Archive for the ‘Winners Never Quit’ Category

Lent: Winners Never Quit

March 6, 2008

Day 21.


My best friend is a real asshole. He used to be a pack-a-day smoker. I can’t recall how many cigarettes he bummed from me over the years. For more than 10 years, we were brothers in arms.

Then one year he decided to give it up for lent.

Now, let me take a moment to point out that my pal is only religious during Christmas, Lent and Easter. He’s your average Occasional-Catholic.

What I’m saying is, he didn’t give up smoking because Jesus spent 40 days in the desert.

He did it to piss me off. He just…stopped. Bam. Non-smoker, just like that.

He quit specifically to show me how easily he could quit.

And he’s not the only one.

Another close friend decided to quit, and just like my friend the Occasional-Catholic, he just…stopped.

This particular son of a bitch is the friend that got me smoking in the first place, which is ironic on numerous levels, the least of which is the fact that his Mom believed that I was the bad influence in that friendship.

One day he just decided that he didn’t feel like smoking anymore, and he was done. Just like that.

They both just…stopped. No harm, no foul, no pain, no suffering…no babies crawling across their ceilings–no nightmares or cold sweats. No withdrawals—no crying themselves to sleep. Just pink lungs and a new lease on life.


On day 2, I didn’t want to get out of bed.

By day 5, I had been reduced to a nervous wreck. It felt like I was eternally at the top of a rollercoaster, just before the big drop.
It felt like life was always hiding around the corner waiting to jump out and yell, “boo.”

I could have run a country mile, and still been no further from the edge.

By day 10, I could have foreclosed on an orphanage without feeling bad. I was fast becoming a Disney-esque villain.

Day 12 saw me easily agitated by just about everything. My fuse was short. My thoughts went back to killing a care bear.

By the time I made it to day 15, I was just angry.

About everything.

The weather, my career, reality TV shows, Hillary Clinton’s pant-suits…you name it, it pissed me off.

Now it’s day 21. I feel like my spirit and soul have been crushed.

Like a child who’s just learned that Santa ain’t real.


I know I want a cigarette, I know I hate the rest of the world, but I simply don’t have the energy.

All I can do is sigh quietly, and remember the good times we shared.

Quitting would be so much easier if I didn’t have to drive or work.


Tourettes: Winners Never Quit

February 15, 2008


It was one of those mornings where I woke up confused and disoriented…devoid of coordination, motor skills and rational thought.

I missed a step on the way down to the kitchen. I then proceeded to spill my coffee all over the counter.

I also over-sugared, and I’m sweet enough as it is.

Crap on a hockey stick.

The shower decided to play evil mind games with me, giving me two options: scalding hot or freezing cold. Lord knows I could usually use a cold shower, but that’s more a figurative thing.

I opted for flesh burning hot.

Piece of monkey shit.

I left the house late, forgot my cell phone and spent an hour scraping ice off my windshield.

Every dumb bastard on the face of the earth was in front of me on my commute, driving 10-30 miles below the speed limit, because two days ago it rained or something. I really knew I was in trouble when I noticed the handicap tag hanging on the rearview mirror of the car swerving between two lanes, directly in front me. She, of course was a part of the “Greatest Generation” and therefore, older than dirt. She was also on her cellphone and applying lipstick simultaneous to “driving”. I’m fairly certain that she was also doing her taxes.

Directly in front me.

Jesus Harold Christ.
Goddammit all to Hell.

Someone took my parking spot at work, so I had to park around back and hike through the rigorous January cold to get to my fabric lined den of despair. A large pile of work was sitting on my chair, just waiting for my arrival.

Why the chair? I have a perfectly good desk, perfect for putting things on. Putting it on my chair will not make me notice any quicker.

The steaming pile of work not sitting on my desk, of course, was a hot project. That meant working at the speed of light to meet the unfeasible deadline set forth by another.

Son of a bitch.
Biscuit-eating fart bubble.

It’s a translation project, so I’m staring at 5 different foreign languages, of which I know none, blindly cutting and pasting with an imaginary gun at my head.

Suck my White Ass.
Merci du tabagisme.

I worked through lunch as the guilty party responsible for the hot project and unrealistic deadlines dined with the management team at a fancy restaurant for an extended period of time on the company dime.

J’essuie mon âne avec le jour.
danke für das Rauchen nicht.

Ellie from Product Development can’t use her inside voice, and Dan from Design’s cell phone is on it’s last dying breath, resulting in an annoying *Bee-Boop* every five minutes. The combination is like a paper cut on my ear drum.

können Ihre Füße verwandeln in auspumpen.
Crap-flinging chowder-kicker.


And through it all, the only thing I can think about is how much I’d enjoy a cigarette right about now.


Growing up, my dad always said, “Winners never quit, and quitters never win.”

los ganadores nunca paran
gagnants non jamais stoppés
Sieger nie beendigt
vincitori non rinunciati mai

I don’t want to be a quitter. I love smoking. I love to smoke. If I died of emphysema tomorrow, I’d still love smoking.


I don’t want to die of emphysema tomorrow. Or the next day, for that matter.


Cockleberry crunch.
Ass-flaming poople berry.
Merde sur un baton.

In my lifetime, I’ve smoked somewhere around 175,200 cigarettes. That can’t be good.

So I’m a quitter. Good-bye, Flavor Country.

Because I’m old enough to know better.

Gracias por no fumar.

Today I hate the world and everything on it, especially cute and heart warming things. I want to strangle a wood sprite, and eat a unicorn.

The Care Bears had better watch their backs.

Fucking fucker.


I can only imagine how day two’s gonna be.