The title of this blog could just as well be Why I Can't Stop... drinking, gambling, shopping, fucking, eating, working, medicating, doing crank—whatever the obsession might be. Addiction is kind of generic. So last weekend, four of my friends—two with class A addictive personalities like mine, two without, decided that I needed to be saved from myself. They are actually afraid that I have pneumonia or cancer or emphysema or something on account of this truly awful cough that I've had for a couple of months. Also, they think I'm an alcoholic.
An intervention was scheduled.
Unfortunately for them, I knew about their plans in advance, and so I arrived prepared (above). I mean, I was prepared to concede smoking (I'm not an idiot and in fact, I had stopped in advance) but an addict has to have something. Their various suggested crutches—AA meetings, hypnosis, vegan diet, retreat in India—didn't do it for me. Any other notions?
Why I can't stop smoking: I have this jones.
5 comments:
Yes, but you now also have The Executrix on your case. Martini, anyone???
I think everyone is stunned commentless by this photo. Why is it only me, miss Constant Comment, who writes in? Come on, guys... is there anyone out there who can type? or drink as much beer as Claudia?? I mean, as much as Claudia used to drink. Intervention, anyone?
Janis J is back?!
All you need is that Mercedes Benz, baby
My friends all drive Porsches
The picture is wonderful and while maybe in your heyday you could drink all that...it was the thought that you could rather then actually doing it that matters.
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