Money For Nothing, Chicks For Free, And All The Tobacco You Need Is Just Lying In The Street

Poverty, as they say, is a great way to learn the difference between a habit and an addiction.

Okay, they don't say that, I did, but I'm pretty much one of them, so I'll occasionally speak for us (they).

And I think they (I) speak the truth. For instance, did you know that cigarettes are addictive? You find this out when you're poor and have a 30 year habit to support, all the while the state is trying to tax your habit out of existence. What to do? Well, it turns out that there are cheaper solutions, and at least one essentially free way to keep Mr. Jones at bay.

Smokers: did you know that all tobacco you need is lying in the streets, in gutters, in parking lots, in driveways? Just sitting there, waiting to be gathered in?  This world has only produced one smoker who ever learned how to dispose of his butts somewhere other than at his own feet, and that's me, and I don't live in your town, most likely.

But everywhere else you look, people have tossed their cigarette butts, with numerous puffs of the good stuff still remaining, in the street, the parking lot, and anywhere else relatively horizontal. And really, twenty minutes of work can easily net you a stash that would fetch a good three or four dollars at the tobacconists, were there still tobacconists. So what are you waiting for? That tobacco is rightfully yours.

There are, however, a few pitfalls to this method, and you'll want to be aware of them before you set out on your quest.

1.  I'm sure I hardly need mention the most obvious  danger in scrounging the streets for tobacco, so well known is it for the horrors it has inflicted upon generations of smokers: that dreaded scourge known as menthol.

This noxious substance is added to many cigarettes, and often with a butt found in the gutter, there may be no way to tell it apart from  those not so laced. One way is to examine the filter and the end of the butt for the presence of the color green, often used for the brand lettering on these abominations, and, for fancier cigarettes, a colored band where butt joins filter.  If this color, or the color of the lettering is green, beware--you may have a menthol dreg. And if anything in this world  is lower than a dreg, it's a menthol dreg.

So be on the lookout for anything green, and test any suspicious tobacco in a pipe or bong before rolling an entire cigarette out of it. So you don't forget, just repeat this simple rule to yourself a hundred times or so: GREEN:  BAD.

What to do if you find yourself smoking your second gen ciggy and it tastes like mouthwash? Well, my advice is this: power down and finish that sucker. It's still reasonably effective as a nicotine delivery system, you probably can't reuse the rolling paper, and let's face it: one menthol cigarette does not reflect on your manhood, your character, or anything else of importance. It's only a preference for menthol that makes you a douchebag.

2. Never, ever put anything in your mouth that you've picked up off the street; this goes double for cigarettes, as they are known for a fact to have been in someone else's mouth at some point, and you know that's a much more germ and vermin infested environment than any street could ever be. And while, as they say, "you don't know whose mouth that's been in," you actually know everything you need to know: it has been in the mouth of a smoker. And remember: in today's world, only people like you still smoke cigarettes.

You want to roll them into new cigarettes, or use a pipe. Or a bong. Or, I don't know, an orange. Anything.  Unwrap the leafy stuff, throw away the filters, and wash your hands. Get rid of nasty germs once and for all, leaving only the harmless tobacco.

3. Yes, people will see you doing this. And they will know. You can pretend to be picking at your foot all you want, but it is what it is. And no, they will not fall for any "I'm picking up litter" pretense you may try to pull off; to be believable at a glance, this would require at least a prison jumpsuit, and wearing this alone on the street creates its own issues.

So just do it. Who cares? Hell, they probably think you're scum for smoking already. They're the people who look at you like you're Hitler every time you light up! Probably. And fuck that shit. You need cigarettes!

YES!

4. There will be obvious places where cigarette butts are tossed on a daily basis. These are the dependable sources of clean, fresh butts, where regular smokers work and must do their smoking outside. You should avoid these places.  Why? Because others with the same idea as you will be there, waiting like hawks. Hawks that smoke cigarettes. Intimidating, right? Not only does this become a competitive smoking situation, something to be avoided, but you will have the uncomfortable experience of seeing others like yourself, doing what you are doing. In other words, you will see how you are. And, possibly even worse, you will see how you used to be. Those gainfully employed workers, smoking fresh, virgin cigarettes they paid for with their hard-earned money? That was you, maybe, once upon a time. As much as you might want to claim their dregs, it is not healthy for you to see exactly how far you've fallen, to have it so quantified and laid out in an easy to read bar graph.  Also, as I'm sure you'll remember, some of those workers are douchebags.

Addendum: Wow, turns out that caffeine is addictive, too. And there's none to be found lying in the streets. I mean, who knew, right? Who would have thought that ingesting a stimulant multiple times a day for 30 years would create some sort of dependence? Damn. This world is a freaking minefield. Well, you live and learn, I guess.

Still Raining, Still Dreaming

On the slim chance that I have any readers left here after six months of inactivity, I want to update those happy few on my current condition.

When last I posted here, I informed the world that I was having a physical issue known as sciatica, which is caused by a nerve in my lower back being impinged and which resulted in my right leg going haywire.

The (mostly) good news is that, all these months later, the pain has receded enough that painkillers are not required most days, I can walk a bit, and can ride my bike a dozen or so miles in a day without paying too steep a price.

The bad news is that I need to get back to work, and I need to do it soon. Unless my readership here jumps a few thousandfold in the next week or so.

But I must say, this whole experience hasn't been without its bits of entertainment. For some reason, ever since I went down with this condition back in September, I have been dreaming and remembering dreams at a furious rate unprecedented in my life. In those six months I have remembered (and jotted down notes on) roughly three dozen dreams. There was a plane crash, several encounters with zombies, and at least a couple of childhood friends who turned up.

So I thought I would share a few here. And yes, I know other people's dreams are boring, so I'll limit it to my five favorites, the ones that really made me sit up and wonder "where the hell did that come from?"

The Sciatica Dreams

5. Is My Safety Off?
Okay, I'll admit it--I've been watching way too much Walking Dead since I got laid up. Zombies have turned up to threaten me and friends/family members on several occasions. And, at least this once, a character from the TV show was included.

Zombies were coming at me. I had a handgun, which is a device I have never used in my life. My first concern was that I had not left the safety on, which many years of TV viewing has led me to understand prevents the gun from firing. I clicked a little switch on the thing, and noticed that a little red dot appeared.

I then asked Rick Grimes, character from The Walking Dead TV show, if that indeed meant that the safety was off. "The red dot means it will fire, right? That's what you told Andrea."

Apparently I was correct in this, because I then raised the gun, squeezed the trigger, and blew a zombie's head off.  Success!

At this point, a former co-worker (whom I haven't spoken with in five years) congratulated me for "shooting a zombie in the face."

4. Why Can't I Walk Underwater Like Everyone Else?

In this one, myself and as many as a few hundred other people were heading out to watch some sort of display being put on over Coos Bay, in Oregon (the bay, not the town). And to get there, we needed to across a stretch of water.

For some reason, everybody but me had the ability to walk underwater, quickly, easily, and without needing to breathe. I did not possess this ability, forcing me to try to swim. This is something I'm not good at. As I flailed around in the water, my right foot began to cramp up, making things really dicey.

Yes, that's the foot/leg that has had the problems in the real world. Sometimes, my dreams try to explain real things to me. Unfortunately, my dreams know nothing of Occam's Razor.

3. Wait, I Thought The War Was Over

This dream consisted entirely of running around my old neighborhood in Coos Bay, attempting to find a place to hide from the Japanese soldiers that had invaded the west coast and wanted to kill me, what with me being a dangerous subversive intellectual and all.

I started out hiding in a hedge, but another person was living in it, and went in and out of it so many times that my covering vegetation was getting thin. I also looked at a concrete shed, but someone was already hiding inside, and it had too many openings that required only a flashlight to see into.

It ended after I ran into the neighbor's back yard, failing to find a good hiding place.

I blame the remake of Red Dawn for putting this in my head. Yeah, maybe it wasn't really responsible, but I'm doing it anyway. Ideas like that movie deserve all the criticism they get.

2. Do Not Mess With Me In Dreams, Especially When I've Just Done Something Vaguely Heroic

This dream began inside a building, one I had no familiarity with. I heard someone outside yell "emergency!" and ran out a door. The first thing I saw was a helium balloon beginning to float away. I jumped and grabbed it, only to begin floating away with it.

Then, some quick-thinking person shot the balloon, and I fell back to the ground, landing on my feet. I thanked the shooter for landing me in the grass.

The next thing I know, I'm back inside the building, and I see at the other end of the table the curly-haired guy from the show Bones. Hodgins, I believe his name is. He is pulling something out of a backpack; my first thought is he's going for a weapon, but no, he pulls out a ping pong paddle and serves the ball to me. Of course I have nothing to return that serve with.

So I turn around and look for something to play with, and a find a little tiny guitar, about six inches long. I pick up the ball and serve to Hodgins, acing the little bastard.

Hodgins then goes to his backpack again, only this time he pulls out...a chainsaw.

I say "are you serious?" and I run over and knock the chainsaw away. I pin the little jerk to the wall and suggest we have this fight straight up.

Do not mess with me in my dreams.

Then, Hodgins and someone else I can't identify are talking to me, and their voices echo strangely, like they do in movies and TV when people are going crazy. Everything takes on a purplish, underwater hue and the voices are echoing around me.

I realize, though, that it's just the two guys trying to convince me that I'm crazy by somehow altering their voices. With this realization, I wake up.

Fucker's lucky I woke up before kicking his ass again.

1. I Can't Be Dreaming, The Ground Is Solid and Everything

This one happened early on in my convalescence. I was walking down a street in Coos Bay, looking for somewhere to buy cigarettes. I'm walking along, having to problem with my leg--but the knowledge that my leg was actually messed up was with me in the dream. So it occured to me that I might, in fact, be dreaming.
I sat down on the ground and felt the grass beneath me. "Well, it feels real," I say, and I get up to continue walking.

At that point I notice that I'm carrying a big bag of nails. For no reason.

Some time later, I'm still walking but no longer carrying the nails. Instead, I'm carrying my shoes. Since this makes no sense, walking barefoot here, I stop and put my shoes on.

And for some reason, my left foot still feels bare. Even though I can see it has a shoe on it.

I assume that was the foot sticking out from under the covers. As I said, my dreams try to explain things to me.

I never did get any cigarettes.

As for my least favorite dreams during this time, there is really only one candidate: I dreamed that my favorite football team, the Kansas City Chiefs, went 2-14 this last season, never even holding a lead during the first nine games (that hasn't been done since the 1920's), and, to top it off, one of their players shot his girlfriend in front of his mother, drove to the stadium parking lot, and committed suicide.

That was my worst dream. Wait, what? That really happened?

Ladies and gentlemen, YOUR 2012 KANSAS CITY CHIEFS.

Well, it felt like a dream. And I'm sure, with a little help, that I can find a way to cope with this knowledge.

The official 2012 Kansas City Chiefs crack pipe.

And I must sign out again, for now. I promise, really and for true, not to wait another six months before I post again.

Rumors Of My Demise Have Been Mildly Exaggerated

It's been nearly a month since I've posted here, which I'm given to understand can lead people to think maybe the blog is dead and no longer worth checking up on.

This blog is not dead.

I've been dealing with a physical problem known as sciatica for the last three weeks; it's a condition that involves irritation of a nerve running from the lower back down into one of the legs. If the irritation is severe, it can result in that leg going completely gunnybag, often involving cramping, spasms, and serious pain.

So I haven't been blogging. Pain: not funny.

But I'm getting better (albeit very slowly), and I wouldn't want anyone to think I've abandoned my baby.

So here, just for continuity's sake, is a funny picture of Mitt Romney.

"First, you get the sugar. Then you get the power. Then, you get the binders full of women."

How To Draw Jesus

I'm sure you've seen by now the unauthorized restoration job performed on a priceless Jesus fresco by an 81-year old Spanish woman, who after becoming distressed at the deterioration of the 19th century painting applied her own brushwork in an attempt to fix it. I found this to be both funny and sad; funny, obviously, because the resulting image is inherently hilarious, and sad because not only did she mostly ruin a valuable old work of art, there's something about laughing at the ineptitude of old people that I find distasteful.

That is, until I saw in the news recently that the woman is currently suing the church to get a cut of the increased donations to that church that resulted. Really, I was worried that she'd feel bad that she did such damage to her place of worship. She needn't worry about that, as her restoration has increased traffic to the church and brought in a fair amount of money for the institution.

But then to sue? Hell, if she needs the money that bad, there are other ways. Perhaps she or some enterprising patron could commission a set of unfinished copies of some classic paintings, and she could then set about finishing them in her inimitable style. Sell them, charge people to view them, sell prints and maybe even produce a nice coffee table book that we all can enjoy. Who wouldn't enjoy her takes on the great paintings in history?

And someone should really get her working on Gilbert Stuart's great masterpiece depicting first American president George Washington; as it stands, it is unfinished.

I would be proud to hang any of these on my wall.

So I Heard This Funny Joke

I can't take credit for this one, but it's too good not to share. And, to get technical, I didn't hear it but rather saw it on Teh Internetz.

Q: What's the difference between Rush Limbaugh and the Hindenburg?
A: One is a flaming Nazi gasbag; the other is a magnificent German airship.

For direct comparison:

That's Limbaugh in the top photo, positively radiating intelligence as always.

Romney Pledges "Return To Normaldom"

With most national polls continuing to show President Obama leading Republican nominee Mitt Romney in the race for the White House, and having extended his lead since the national conventions ended, the Romney campaign has begun to focus on statements designed to make the candidate seem more "presidential."

In a recent speech to a group of supporters in Fairfax, Virginia, Romney pledged that under his administration America would see a "return to normaldom," a phrase eerily reminiscent of Warren G. Harding's "return to normalcy" statement in 1920 that established a president's power to make up new words.

Other phrases also echoed the statements of past American presidents.

"Ask not what your country can do for you," said Romney to a cheering throng of roughly 3000 people, "but rather ask your parents to loan you money to start a business. Times are tough, but remember: the only thing we have to fear is fear itself, and maybe being strapped to the roof of a car for a long road trip."

"I cannot tell a lie. I sold that cherry tree,
along with the rest of the farm's assets."

Romney paused to soak in the applause, then added: "Our long national nightmare is coffee."

The candidate also sought to defuse criticism of his business practices while CEO of Bain Capital, as well as defending the seemingly low tax bill he has paid on his considerable income. "My fellow real Americans, let me make one thing perfectly clear: under the current financial sector regulations and tax laws, I am not a crook."

Romney concluded by displaying a small plaque that he promises will adorn his desk in the Oval Office should he be elected, a plaque which reads: "The buck stops here." The plaque currently resides in Romney's wallet.

Republicans Show Their Understanding Of The Democratic Process Again

This adorable political ad has been showing up around the 'net recently:

(Chip Cravaack is an incumbent Republican congressman from Minnesota.)

Welcome to Republicanland, where a political party trying to garner enough seats in congress to establish a majority is seen as an attempt at a takeover. Loaded word much?

Yeah. Obviously the Democratic Party is a dark conspiracy, a bunch of like-minded individuals banding together to gain legal authority by...winning elections. Eleventy!!!!

Meanwhile, Republican primary runner-up Rick Santorum was recently seen and heard decrying the fact that smart people aren't on his side:


Understand that this is a wealthy white man with three degrees from public universities, including a law degree, who thinks our laws should be derived from the holy book of his religion, complaining about "elites" who want to tell you what to do. Of course this is vastly different from people like Santorum, who merely want to be elected to positions in government where they have the authority to make laws and shit.

These people are about a hop and a skip away from accusing their opponents of being practicing thespians who are sometimes guilty of exacerbation.

Wait, sorry--I forgot that understanding what words mean makes me "elitist." Yeah, I went to college. Better take my vote away.

To sum it up: a political party is a conspiracy, and trying to gain a majority in congress is a takeover attempt. Wanting exceptional, intelligent, educated representatives in government is elitist. Elected officials drafting and passing laws are telling you what to do. Judges who issue legal rulings are activists legislating from the bench.

Next week: How Obama stole the 2008 election by getting more people to vote for him than his opponent did. Clearly he could only have accomplished this by using persuasive techniques. Did you ever think such a thing could happen in America?

Republican Celebrities Set To Debate Furniture, Appliances

After a successful national convention, the Republican party is gearing up to begin the campaign for the White House, Senate and House of Representatives in earnest and plans to leave no stone unturned.

Taking a page from that convention, and one of its most memorable moments, the Republican National Committee announced today that it has lined up a series of debates seeking to emulate Clint Eastwood's impressive performance against an empty chair last Thursday night. The 82-year old actor had no trouble trouncing the piece of furniture on every point that came up, creating one of the great storylines of the convention and giving the Republicans some new ideas as they go forward.

An impressive lineup of Republican celebrities will be debating various articles of furniture, several types of kitchen appliances, and other well-known objects.

"Eastwood's performance was so impressive, it's shown us that we have a great untapped resource in today's Republican party," said National Committee Chairman Reince Priebus. "We have a powerful contingent of aging white celebrity men who are especially gifted at debating inanimate objects--they know how to prepare, how to do their homework, and especially how to think on their feet much better than any appliance or furniture that the Democrats can trot out. We plan to use this resource."

While details of the debate schedule are still being worked out, a few Republican celebrities have already signed up to participate.

"We already have Eastwood, and he's agreed to debate an entire dinette set," said Priebus. "This will be more of a challenge than what he faced at the convention, but that's what we want to do--line up appropriately tough opponents for all our celebrities. In the interests of having lively debates and really raising the level of political discourse in this country, we want to put our people up against the toughest opposition we can find."

"For example, talk-show host Rush Limbaugh will be matched against an open refrigerator. Full of food. And while we feel this will not be easy, we feel confident that Rush will eat that refrigerator's lunch. Another event will feature Hank Williams, Jr., discussing Constitutional law with a partially deflated football. You know he'll be ready for that."

The toughest challenge will likely be faced by actor and martial arts expert Chuck Norris, who will square off against a blender. "That will be a real challenge for him," said Priebus, "especially when you remember that the blender can perform four functions (blend, liquefy, puree and whip) against Chuck Norris' three (eat, sleep, kick people in the head). But you know Mr. Norris will not back down from a challenge."

Other matchups will include Megadeth guitarist Dave Mustaine pitting his brain against a bag of wet firecrackers, 1970's guitar hero Ted Nugent doing battle with a fencepost, and child actor Kurt Cameron debating some toast. Also being featured is comedienne Victoria Jackson, who will attempt to avoid walking into a wall for 45 minutes.

"We want to showcase our best thinkers," said Priebus. "We want to challenge them, but we are confident of victory. These people are truly exceptional, and will represent today's Republican party in a way that will make us all proud."

Below: Clint Eastwood takes on the chair.