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Pipe dreams


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Pipe Dreams

 

The thing is: Tobacco is going to be gone. Economic depressions fuel government agendas. People who don't know my middle-name or where I was born will force health upon me with a cocktail of medications: glaucoma, blood-pressure, anti-arthritic, anti-depressant, antiperspirant and after-dinner mints.

 

Leave me to my righteous cones and bowls of pipe tobacco. My occasional beer or two. Some wine and strawberries.

 

I've stocked up on a variety of snus and nasal snuffs. When I can't afford to smoke I'll get through. I have made some judicious purchases and therefore won't get the dissatisfied jitters provided by pharmaceutical gums and sprays and patches. No, mine will be a long slow decline into frustrated good health. The prospect of the long empty hours with no pipe weed. Zapping my brain and calming my spirit with high nicotine snuff!

 

I'll gently fall with the aid of snus. And my home grown tobaccos.

 

Sad times. I think that I may be able to make a few swaps with my organic nasal snuff, flavoured with crushed vanilla bean.

 

Snuff helps sort out the men from the boys, the heroes from the has-beens and those with understanding from those with knowledge. Snuff taking satisfies the spirit without inebriating the mind. Those with an indomitable righteousness and an impenetrable air of defiant sophistication are dedicated snuffers, because snuff transforms mortals into...

 

Sit back. Get yourself comfortable. And sniff the divine powders of satisfaction! Take the air in a tobacco trance. It is always time well spent. A pinch here, a sniff there, its the time tested way of enjoyment. Lay back and let the relaxation loosen your intellect. There's nothing like it.

 

Yes, snuff should be provided to all school children as an aid to overcoming the stresses of modern life; as a panacea against endemic tawdriness. Little kids with their snuffboxes and patterned pocket handkerchiefs. Happy boys and girls, their smiling faces awash with ecstasy and their fingers brown with joy.

 

This is my dream!

 

My advice is to do your shopping now via the web. If things are desperate, purchase some White Ox and dry it inside your house. Top of the refrigerator. Somewhere it will get some air. When dry, crush with mortar and pestle. Shack through tea-strainer. Flavour: spearmint, peppermint, coffee or whatever. Not hard, will blow your head clean-off and will last you many months of satisfaction.

 

I see a bad moon rising...

 

Al.

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I think I'm on the wrong topic, but I'm here now.

You know what I think?

I reckon that frustration frozen in time by the fluorescent street-lights and congregating broken-dreams probably have something to do with it. Down dead-end corridors. Dead-end alleyways. Intellectual rape over the airwaves and snaking along the cable. Cities full of dead-shits.

I call upon all cannabis users.

 

Sorry again if this is the wrong forum. Some things need to be said. Read T.S. Eliot and Philip Larkin. You'll never be the same. High Windows. came across both Eliot and Larkin in the 1980s. Man! And I was so young and impressionable. Nietzsche and Machiavelli. Lewis Carroll.

Mind-fucked!

 

Al.

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