Man it was cold out today. But by watching my coworkers, I’ve concluded that it’s never to cold for cancer. Every hour on the hour, they run out and form their “cancer clutch”, puffing and bitching, me along side smoking by proxy. Now, I don’t smoke, at least not directly. And it seems, from my old job in the toxic smog of an OTB parlor, to hanging around with my best friend of 20 mrrrphhh or so years, I always put myself in close proximity of nicotine slaves. (Sorry man, I love ya but I’ve been telling you for years to quit). Anyway, my old friend has always been impervious to the cold. I remember when we were in our late teens, we’d be hanging out in his car bullshitting. It could be 14 degrees Fahrenheit outside, he would open his window all the way while he smoked. I used to say, “Hey Zool!”, we used to call each other Zool back then – but that’s a whole nother story – “ Zool close the window. Cancer’s tomorrow, cold is today”. I later shortened it to “I’ll take the cancer”. To this day, he knows what I’m referring to when I say that.
These days I’m thinking, maybe I should take it up. You know, cut out the middleman. It’s like I’m getting all the cancer and having none of the fun. Ah... I think not. But I really feel kind of left out. I don’t know why. Could it be that cancer loves company?
Today’s blog was brought to you by the Phillip Morris co. Working today for stronger cancers tomorrow! ©
1 comment:
I miss you Zool. I really do. I'm sorry I got my douche on when it was important. I'll forever regret it. I still smoke. My doc asks, every year, you still smoke? I say, yes sir, heavily. He's all, shaking his head, I can't tell. WTF?
I love you brother. I'm sitting here in my home up in Kings Park, head low, missing my Zool, missing you calling me "gorgeous" when I am the farthest thing from it. I got caught up in my own shit and forgot who needed me at the most important time. FML for that. Fuck me hard for that mistake.
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