When it is useful to smoke? Very much I like to smoke
Ya! And in general I refuse to understand how people can not smoke; smoking - rare occupation which can enjoy and alone, and in the noisy company.
People of smokers I put much above people who in life did not touch a cigarette; these are people - constantly improving the imagination, the people of Big Thoughts able to glance in themselves and for the horizon. While the cigarette smolders, the person manages to remember the pukhloshcheky childhood, to imagine himself pining with boredom and money of mademoiselle comme il faut or to outline the plan of vengeance.
And how many revolutionary ideas crept when I thoughtfully shook ashes! “ To Throw out …, to pull out …, to be ruined on …, to demand …, it is more never! … and to leave off smoking, eventually! “
On the contrary, the hypocrites who are going on to us about harm of smoking, making the life us miserable the sanctimonious offers to pass behind them in “ the smoking wing “ restaurant - these narrow-minded, hissing beings through impregnated with envy to us, pride and portly, coward hide hands in pockets, convulsively look around in search of object on which it is possible to concentrate attention, plaintively low, imitating a lively conversation.
Of course, non-smoking people, obviously, pose threat to society. I know it on myself. Old sinewy chickens in the blue coats and boots acquired by the early Cenozoic according to the coupon of trade-union committee so often spitefully askance and splash on me furious saliva:
- The girl, it is not a shame to smoke - that? To you still to give birth to children!
- Is a shame to me, the aunt, it is a shame. - I right there light the second.
Yes, non-smoking make the life of us miserable. They only also wait for the moment to specify, and it is even better to snatch out from a pocket banners “ not to smoke “ and to begin to shake together with them in the next attack of just hysteria.
In my gray, sated with fussy human messing around day the cozy spark of a cigarette blows as the warm house. Or rather, blew - a thin mozgochka of the pompous dolt who is nicknamed my chief, the shrill alarm for health of employees the other day twisted. Shuddering for horror for their days poisoned with nicotinic exhausts, he the regal decree moves a smoking-room to the street. Seven minutes of contemplation turn seven minutes of torture - the discriminated smoking citizens compassionately brattle legs, hasty and thievishly drag on, trying to talk loud vigorous voices. Yes …, the first fight is lost, but I feel that on it enemies will not calm down, and there are rights.
The small group of actively non-smoking counted that we not only shorten life, but also we extend their working days. Say, while we smoke, they have to plow for three. And if to subtract time spent by us in a smoking-room from the general working hours, then the negative result turns out. We are dismissed, and they joyfully clap. Too to me arithmetics miracles!
And if to think, people non-smoking, days without a break anxious with the slender health, steal much more working hours, than we with concentration working waiting for a smoke break. I would not employ non-smoking at all, would not start up them in decent public institutions, and built the fenced shelters where they in plenty would jog, practiced yoga, breathed across Buteyko and had a shower bath Sharko`s shower.
So: “ Smoking all countries - unite! “ ]