LIAH #968

I quit smoking cigarettes. Yes, I quit smoking cigarettes. I want a medal, parade, statue, and a blowjob. I'm not feeling good, and I read it's helpful to write a good-bye letter to cigarettes. Sounds ridiculous, but it sounds like a good LIAH. This is more for myself and it's not going to be funny or anything. If the Jets win tomorrow I'll write about how happy I am and include a joke or two.

Dear Cigarettes,
Where to begin. It all started in 10th grade. I was on a date with an ex girlfriend. I don't know why I was there, but I was. She ended up getting mad at me and ditching me, for really stupid reasons, but that's when I first found your comfort. I was with Z-man afterwords and this kid Johnny Bave, and I wanted a cigarette. I don't know why I went to you but I did. What followed was about five years of smoking.
I went to Djarums first, kind of like clove cigarettes. Before I would go on dates with another girlfriend(the girlfriends stopped happening after this one, related to smoking? i don't know) I would have a Djarum and feel suspicious smoking it. I wouldn't look at people in the street as if they were looking at me with disgust. After that I slowly moved on to Marlboro Lights.
I feel like everyone's first cigarettes were Marlboro Lights. They were nothing exciting, and which is when I had my first solid loyal cigarette in Marlboro Menthol Lights.
During Junior year of high school they were my cigarettes. That was until I quit for two weeks my Senior year of high school. I was quitting for a girl and that was stupid, I wasn't doing it for myself. After two weeks I had a Marlboro Menthol.
I was a Marlboro Menthol guy for the rest of high school.
Upon going to college, I moved over to Camel Lights. Camel Lights were the shit and I stayed with them until yesterday.
Until yesterday, because now I am an ex smoker. Cigarettes, you made me feel good many times. There were times where I felt I needed you, but I'm afraid waking up every morning hacking up a lung is not something I want to deal with every day.
I've dumped way too much money on you. I'm not going to calculate how much, but at 8 dollars a pack, I just don't want to know.
We're done. It is you, not me. This is your fault. You're really bad for me and I'm not dealing with it anymore. Every day I feel like shit and it's your fault. No more.
Here's to the future.
Andrew