Survey Team

Anyone else out there absolutely despise surveys?

Amazon:  Please rate your recent transaction… Shit received.  The end.

Etsy :  Don’t forget to leave a review… Shit received.  The end.

The oil change place:  How was your visit?   Shit received.  The end.

All good feedback, no?

The Census Bureau:  Your address has been randomly selected to fill out this 19 page, incredibly intrusive document demanding various snippets of very personal information about you and all occupants currently residing at this address to better allow our political units to fuck the little guy.  (slight embellishments may have been added).   Oh…and if you don’t comply – we’re gonna send agents to your home to bang on your door for 20 minutes in an effort to annoy this information outta you.

Topping it off – this official request for information was addressed to ‘Current Occupant.’

Ya wanna know what I do with any mail that ends up in my hands sporting those words?

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If it’s an official Government demand (complete with fines for non-compliance) you’d think they’d at least put a NAME on their documents.   I guess cutbacks are a good excuse for laziness in paperwork.

When they’ve acknowledged that there’s an actual person at the receiving end of their badgering…I’ll give them the information they’ve demanded.  But…they’re gonna EARN it the hard way.

Anyway – Government-agency annoyances aside – The ever-so-famous Blair of The Shameful Sheep had some fun with a survey that’s going around in the Blog-o-sphere…and since I’m needing the practice of filling out and publicizing personal information…I figured I’d give it a whirl, too…

  1. Who are you named after? 
    1. My parents were Buddy Holly fans…so when I came out, screaming and red-faced, somehow, it was deemed appropriate to name me Peggy Sue.  Yup…that’s the legal name.
    2. The name was so much fun – especially in 7th grade when the choral teacher decided this little archaic ditty would be PERFECT to teach the class.  Gleefully, the rest of the class focused on singing “Porky Sue” instead of sticking to the original lyrics.
    3. Kids are mean-spirited little fucks at that age.
  2. Do you like your handwriting?
    1. Well…doctors look at my left-handed scrawl and proclaim:  I can’t read this shit!   Even I have trouble sometimes deciphering what I’ve scrawled on a piece of paper with pen, pencil, crayon, magic marker, or bloody fingertips.  My handwriting looks funny, weird, sloppy, bizarre and/or totally written in code, depending on my frame of mind.
    2. My ‘I’m pissed at you’ handwriting is particularly messy and completely unreadable…Although, once I did draw out a picture of a hand clutching a rose, middle finger proudly extended, and sent that as a formal ‘fuck you’ to someone who’d irritated me.
  3. What is your favorite lunch meat?
    1. The answer to all meat-related questions MUST be bacon.  It’s kinda a rule.
    2. Did someone say BACON???
  4. Longest relationship? 
    1. The wuzband and I would have celebrated (teeth firmly grinding together) our 13th anniversary had I not decided I needed an actual life.
    2. My current SQO and I are rapidly approaching our own 7 year itch, and have stocked up on Gold Bond Powder for the event.
  5. Do you still have your tonsils?
    1. I am proud to admit I still come with all my original parts.
    2. Oh, wait…wisdom & baby teeth don’t count…right???
  6. Would you bungee jump? 
    1. Why would someone jump off a perfectly good platform?  Unless that thing is on fire – and I’m on some pretty intense ‘controlled substances’ – or I’m seriously distracted by, oh….say….DRAGONS flying in the sky….
    2. no.
  7. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off?
    1. I own no shoes with those ‘laces’ things.
    2. SLIP ON’S FTMFW, baby!
  8. Favorite ice cream?
    1. As I’ve been doing the ketosis thing for 9 months, ice cream is one of the things I had to give up.  It wasn’t a big deal, as the heartburn & headaches produced by consumption of this cold, creamy sweet stuff were fairly prohibitive before keto.  If it was slightly tangy (orange, lemon, etc…), though…I’d dive in.
    2. There’s a place here which serves frozen custard (which most denizens of the Greater Milwaukee Metroplex will agree is far superior to your standard ice cream) called Kopp’s Custard.  They make the absolute BEST Lemon Citron custard around…and their lemon-raspberry cheesecake flavor was a close second.  A Pint (or 2) of that was well worth the pain.
  9. What is the first thing you notice about people?
    1. It depends on the smell.  If they’ve recently marinated in their favorite perfume or axe body spray, I walk the other way before they’re in visual/speaking range.  Nobody wants to be accosted by a chemical shit-storm of fragrance.  Ditto on au naturel – I don’t need my eyes bleeding from your rank sweat.
    2. Bathed and/or otherwise inoffensive people – the first thing I notice are their hands.  You do so much with hands – why not let them lead the way in any introductions.
  10. Football or baseball? 
    1. The wuzband – huge into football, as is most of the state.  Basically, we’re a beer state with a Packer problem.
    2. The SQO – Brewers all the way.
    3. Me – Balls should be played with in the privacy of your own home, dark parking lots, or the back rows of movie theaters…not in a stadium in front of millions of screaming viewers.
  11. What color pants are you wearing? 
    1. Once you go black, you never go back.
  12. Last thing you ate?
    1. See question #3.
    2. Did someone say BACON????
  13. If you were a crayon what color would you be?
  14. Favorite smell?
    1. There are too many to list here.  I love the smell of bacon in the morning (smells like victory!).  I also love my sandalwood soap, the sage I burn prior to whammy-work, and cinnamon or vanilla candles.
  15. Who was the last person you spoke to on the phone?
    1. I.  Hate.  My.  Phone.  I’d rather gouge both my eyes out with a shit-covered pencil than attempt to have a meaningful conversation with a little box of plastic, wire and glass plastered to the side of my head.
  16. Hair color? 
    1. Well…lemme see, here.  I’ve got some red.  I’ve got some brown.  I’ve got some black.  I’ve got some gray.  I’M A MUTT!
    2. Once, I dyed half my hair blonde, the other half red.  That way – if I wanted to be blonde, I’d brush it toward one side, red – the other.  I also had a purple rat tail.
  17. Eye color?
    1. Brown.  I’m THAT full of shit.
  18. Favorite foods to eat?
    1. Say it with me, folks…..BACON.
      1. I’m also currently obsessed with rutabaga.  Slice them things up into fry-like forms, slather with olive oil, sprinkle with as much garlic powder as you can stand, and bake until browned & sizzly.
  19. Scary movies or happy endings? 
    1. I don’t know a lot of movies I can consistently watch to the end, as I tend to fall asleep when I’m all cozy and slightly entertained…so there goes the happy ending part.
  20. Last movie you watched? 
    1. to the end?
    2. Right now, I’m watching, and watching, and watching, and falling asleep to V for Vendetta.  I’ll probably switch it out when Netflix takes it off their streaming menu.
  21. Favorite holiday? 
    1. National Bacon Day.
    2. It should really be bacon month…or just have everyday in the year be bacon day.  Who can I reach out to to get this done?
  22. Beer or wine? 
    1. I’m the oddity in a state which runs on hops….I’d choose wine.  Beer is nasty stuff.
    2. My kids are beer snobs.  They call the commercially available stuff (think Miller or Budweiser) canoe sex…fucking close to water.
  23. Night owl or early bird? 
    1. I consider it sleeping in if I stay in bed later than 7 am.  Been working so long at standardized day shift hours, I wouldn’t know how to stay up late.
  24. Favorite day of the week? 
    1. I lurves me some Sunday.  Not because I can’t wait to be close to the Lord (me & my witchy ways notwithstanding) but because everyone else in the household is sleeping/working/out doing running – and I have the place to MYSELF.
    2. Mondays.  Suck.  For the record.
  25. Which three of your favorite bloggers do you want to know more about? 
    1. Here’s the awesome “PAY IT FORWARD” stuff you see in all of these survey types.  I ain’t gonna inflict this pain on anyone else.  But…if yer a glutton for punishment – knock yer socks off.  I’ll read it…really, I will.

 

Anyone wanna see me take video of dropping a full bag of cat shit out the window the next time the census dorks come ringing my doorbell?

Call Me…on the Line

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Anyone else out there resent their cell phone?

I’ve had a serious hate/HATE relationship with phones since…well…forever.  I was never one of those teens who could spend the entire evening on the phone with this girlfriend or that one, talking about boys or what TV show was currently playing or boys or that horrible little slut in chemistry class or boys or the existential reality of the multiverse overlapping our own reality or boys or clothes or…did I mention boys at all?

I’ve always been one of them people who, when they NEED socialization, prefer to have such interaction with the other person in person.  This ‘having a piece of plastic crammed in your face’ has always struck me as irritating – and the whole phone conversation process as intrusive.  If I want to have a conversation with someone, I’m gonna go seek them out and get the eye contact, body language, facial contortion and empathetic parts of the interaction experience – rather than just settle for a slightly distorted electronic version of that voice, without any of the other, non-verbal cues.

Having a piece of electronic equipment stand in for a person you want to have a meaningful interactive relationship with is just NOT spot on.

Dare I say…vibrator?

I’m going on record here…for the upteenth time – I.  HATE.  THE.  PHONE.

And it’s not my specific make/model – its the entire concept of phones as conversation pieces.  The phone is annoying when I’m in a good mood, because when the damn thing rings, it pulls me away from whatever I was engrossed in and demands I focus all my attention on it and the verbal-only, half-conversation which ensues.

But when I’m in a bad mood to begin with?  When the demon-tech sings its siren song, I’d rather swallow broken glass, shit it out the other end immediately, and take the conversation time to bleed out from both ends.  It’d be less painful then trying to limp through a conversation without radiating my frustrations over the airwaves.

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At least at work, I can keep it professional.  Keep it short and to the point.  And let voicemail take the call when I’m deep into some project that I can’t be pulled away from.

 

At home?  Whole ‘nother story.  If I don’t answer the damn thing – I get increasingly frantic messages at 5 minute intervals.  I risk a serious shit-show every time I take a 20 minute shower.

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In the 80’s – when I first moved out into the wild world on my own – my Dad installed a phone in my apartment and footed the bill.  He thought it was important to have me ‘connected’ to the rest of the world.  If I’d had to pay for the line, I’d have gone without.

 

 

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In the 90’s – I paid for my own phone line.  Kids and family were factors, but still…when I left the house to go do something, I was unreachable, and the family in particular/society in general were all fine with that.  Everyone was happy to leave a message on the answering machine, or just wait until later in the evening to try to call again.

(for the record, here…in the 90’s, you had to leave me a message – I screened calls through the answering machine even when I was home)

 

nokia-3310In the 00’s – cell phones were dropping price points to become an average-Joe Consumer affordable thing.  After listening to a friend of mine bitching up a blue streak because her husband got pissy if she didn’t answer hers – I swore I’d never own one.  I liked my autonomy too much.

 

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And today?  Yes – I carry around the damnable little tracking device…society and convenience have made the little demonic rectangles useful.  And, with apologies to my earlier selves, I’ve upgraded the hate/HATE relationship with phones to a grudging acceptance/HATE relationship.   The device does have a few positives.  A camera, accessibility to the ‘net, and the portability of the phone number.

I tolerate the thing as long as I don’t have to use it for meaningful interaction with another human being…

 

Rant warning!

I miss being invisible and untraceable in the wild world.  I miss stopping for a late lunch after shopping – knowing that nobody can demand a slice of that time, and that they accept my boundaries.

I can’t go to the greenspace to sit on the dock by the water without that shrill ringtone scaring the shit outta the local wildlife JUST as they were getting acclimatized to my presence…

Nor can I find a real secluded spot to sit in the sunshine and meditate…

At the laundry, I can’t ignore the world whilst in it, with my nose buried in my kindle…

Finally – at home, I can’t work on an intricate chainmaille piece without having to stop the creative flow just to listen to political drivel, yet another history lesson, or constant bitching about how stupid all the other drivers on the road are.

 

***sigh***

Guess I need to have a little chat, no?

 

 

 

 

Pyramid Scheme

In 2005, the USDA issued an updated food pyramid, and created an entire website of clicky-links to peruse in 2011.

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Someone even put the two charts side by side for comparison.

First, the new food pyramid recommended exercise, where the old one only suggested what you put in your mouth.  Yes, that’s a distinct improvement on overall population health, as there’s more to being a healthy human being than what you shovel in.

Second, the new guide gives recommended amounts, whereas the old food pyramid only listed ‘servings,’ leaving the consumer free to wallow aimlessly through the confusing fine print, tastefully photographed ‘serving suggestion’ graphics, and slick advertising offered by various manufacturers to figure out what an actual ‘serving’ was.

Third, they gave some additional information on what to eat within each category (half of grains should be whole grains, sub-categories of vegetables, limit deep-fried products, etc…), where this was also lacking in the original.

Soooo…baby step improvements…

But for the actual ‘meat & taters’ of the content?  Not only am I deeply concerned, but more than a bit frustrated with what the USDA is STILL telling Americans they aught to eat.

this would be the beginning of a mild rant, fair warning…

Take a closer look…

Grains:  The recommended daily allowance is 6 oz, with half of that in whole grains.  If you dig further, choosemyplate.gov offers further advice:

In general, 1 slice of bread, 1 cup of ready-to-eat cereal, or ½ cup of cooked rice, cooked pasta, or cooked cereal can be considered as 1 ounce-equivalent from the Grains Group.

So – 3 oz of whole grains could be 1 cup cooked cereal (think oatmeal) and 1/2 cup cooked rice.  The other three ounces could be 1 cup ready to eat cereal (think cocoa puffs) and 1 cup cooked pasta.

3.5 cups of grains a day – the largest single portion of your intake out of the different food groups.

ALL.  Carbs.

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Milk:  This weighs in with the 2nd largest portion of your daily consumption with 3 cups.  They further clarify:

Most Dairy Group choices should be fat-free or low-fat. Foods made from milk that retain their calcium content are part of the group. Foods made from milk that have little to no calcium, are not.

You wanna know what’s left when you remove the fat content from dairy products?  Milk sugars, calcium, and a bit of protein.  In other words – carbzilla disguised as a glass of fancy words.

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Vegetables:  The recommendation is 2.5 daily cups, with the stipulation being to ‘eat a wide variety of different veggies.’  If you dig further into choosemyplate.gov, you’ll see they’ve broken down the veggies into sub-groups:  Dark Green, Red & Orange, Beans & Peas, Starchy, and Other.

They spread veggies out further, with suggested weekly intakes within each sub-category…so you get that ‘wide variety’ throughout your week, and additional breakdowns according to age and sex.

The basic ‘ranking’ of veg, from most to least:

Starchy   /    Red & Orange   /   Other  /    Dark Green   /   Bean & Pea

 

 

Starchy is the highest amount throughout your eating week.  “Eat more starch!” says the USDA.  As in potatoes.  As in corn.  As in shelled green peas.

As in pure carbs.

Their second category – reds & oranges, contains things like carrots & pumpkin and tomatoes.  While these do have some redeeming value – the red & orange list is still, for me, mostly avoided, as these are still sweeter vegetables and can easily turn into carb-bombs.

 

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Fruits:  There should be 2 cups of fruit matter on your various plates or in glasses throughout the day.

In general, 1 cup of fruit or 100% fruit juice, or ½ cup of dried fruit can be considered as 1 cup from the Fruit Group.

Say it with me, folks…fruits=sweet=sugar=carbohydrate.

See a pattern here?

So far – there are 11 cups of various foodstuffs on your plate – with, if I’d hazard a guess, a 95% carbohydrate load.  The bits of insoluble fiber, protein & trace elements making up the other 5% has been tossed in there to convince you the USDA actually knows what it’s recommending.

The last two groups, proteins & fats, are laughable in their recommendations.  The two groups total get a recommended allowance of roughly 3/4 cup a day…served with a sermon of how horrible fats are for your body, how they ‘hide’ within other foodstuffs, and how you should seek out and account for these sneaky substances before adding any pure fats to your daily intake.

Think about that – protein (ie:  what ALL muscle material is made of), limited to 5.5 oz per day (and that meat better be lean, son!) & run screaming from any pure fats.

Still wonder why Americans are getting fatter & sicker???

In short, IF intake recommendations have changed at all from the ones I was force-fed as a child, it’s a turn for the worse.  Of the three micronutrient categories,  fats are bad – severely limit them.  Proteins are only slightly less bad – so limit them, too.  Most of your daily intake then has to come from the only remaining category:  carbs.

Coming soon – the new USDA Nutritional Guideline Soundbyte:  

“When in doubt, sweet & starchy eat out.”

What Keto does is take that food pyramid, and turn it upside down.  If the USDA says it’s bad, don’t eat it, Keto says chow down, son!  If the USDA recommends you pile that stuff on your plate, Keto suggests you toss it in the bin and EAT BACON.

Being a person who’s subliminally bucked the system for most of my adult life, is it any wonder Keto makes a twisted kind of sense to me?

 

 

But here comes the weird part:

That ‘recommended by the USDA,’ carb-heavy, ‘master plan?’  It will work – if you’re EXTREMELY active.  I’ve done it.  You’ve done it.  EVERYONE has, at one point in their life or another, eaten their way straight up the pyramid without deviation, and has been active enough to offset the load of starches in their diet.

The last time I lost a significant amount of weight, I was eating mostly raw foods & breads (read, veggies & starches), managed to maintain a strong Pepsi addiction, and even allowed myself time to socialize at the local bar. (burgers & booze & fries…oh, Myyyyy!)  When you live alone without any romantic interests, in a tiny studio apartment that’s easy to keep clean, the gym is an acceptable substitute to having the walls close in around you.  I spent 4-5 hours a week swimming laps in the pool when wasn’t out exploring my town on foot.

If you’re going to eat the Standard American Diet (S.A.D. yea, I know…a perfect summation!) – you HAVE to keep your body in a near-constant state of movement to prevent ballooning into size 24 pants.  While this is perfect for those who have an active job (construction, assembly, service, landscaping, etc…), are socially isolated, or into body-sculpting…this is NOT representative of the majority of citizens living in the States who are either too busy, too tired, or too jaded to keep their asses moving.

As people age, they tend to move out of extremely physical jobs and into more sedentary ones.  Over time, people generate a wide circle of friends with backyard BBQ’s, built in kegs & really comfy lounge chairs.  They go tailgating with ‘naughty’ cuts of meat, liquid bread (aka:  beer) and crunchy starchy things.  They pour gallons of pure sugar water (aka:  soda) into their over-carbohydrated digestive systems while sitting in front of the computer at work, and spend thousands of recreational dollars in S.A.D. eating establishments, sandwich shops, and sun bathing on pristine beaches.

Most people don’t consider the local gym a second home or have an after-work schedule that prevents the activity needed to support the recommended carb-heavy diet.

Think housework.  Think kids.  Think quality time with a significant other, an artistic endeavor, or the boob tube and Facebook if you’re missing the disposable income necessary to indulge in recreation.

When real life gets in the way – our dietary guidelines turn from helpful to hell-full.

WHY????

I want to know why there is only ONE recommended guideline, and everything else is considered fringe, fad, freaky, or just f*ckin’ WRONG.

Why does the USDA insist that the same diet which works for a 20-something who likes to participate in extreme sports will work for the 40-something housewife with 3 kids who spends 6 hours a day in her mini-van shuttling those kids around to their various academic and sporting activities?

And I really want to know WHY society has been programmed to demean that housewife for having a butt the size of Tex-ass?

Well, she’s just lazy and doesn’t deserve buttcheeks you can crack walnuts between…

 

What happened to body sciences in this country, and where is the quality information this kind of research was developed to distribute?

I suspect its buried in a mountain somewhere – replaced with a useless, flashy graphic and fat-shaming programming.

Finally, I want to know why I’m getting cynical in my old age???

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Death and Taxes

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Yup – it’s April 15th.  In the US, this is the deadline to declare to the Gov’t that you’ve earned this much money last year, and through various loopholes, deductions, and laundering schemes, this is how much you have to give to the Gov’t to keep the country moving.

Somehow – I think the country would move a lot better if we didn’t have to spend so much time and effort trying to avoid paying taxes.  The list of deductions is impressive, indeed, and gets longer each year.

Are taxes necessary?  Unfortunately, I think they are.  They pay for schools, streets, sewers, police and fire protection, etc…

But what the US tax system has evolved into is taxes and spending of said monies without any accountability whatsoever.

Time to change out the system.

Beating up the Fags

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**Warning*

*Disclaimer*

*Abandon all Hope ye who Enter Here**

This is not a typical post for me – this is a very political, very social, very disparaging rant – consider yourself warned 😀

A friend of mine across the pond was on a bit of a cigarette regulation rant himself the other day – and called an e-cigarette the Electrofag – which is why the British slang for a smoke is floating around in my head.

So – as Heisenberg says – ‘Relax…..’  This is a rant about cigarette regulation…not about the homosexual population – some of which I consider great friends.

I used to smoke.

I liked to smoke.

I wasn’t one of them weak-willed cig-suckers who bemoaned about addiction, and wanting to quit, and how awful the Corporate Tobacco masters were to make us their collective bitch, and how everyone should shed a tear for the poor, pitiful smoker who tried to hork out a lung when waking up in the morning because it WASN’T OUR FAULT!

mutter your favorite word for fecal material here…

I didn’t want pity.  I didn’t want a solution to my ‘horrible problem.’  I just wanted to exercise my right as an adult to perform this habit I chose to indulge in.

I.  Liked.  To.   Smoke.

I knew what it was doing to my body, and every once in a while, I’d get sick and tired of feeling a bit sick and tired, and put the smokes away for a few months.  But I was always back for 20 of my little white cylindrical buddies sooner or later.  Cold turkey was always my preferred method of quitting, as I had to get in the ‘I don’t wanna do this anymore’ mindset.

I.  Liked.  To.   Smoke.

Any time I bowed to societal pressure and attempted to quit ‘because everyone was doing it,’ ‘do it for your loved ones,’ or any of the other claptrap created to guilt smokers into giving up their habit, I was back at it within days…especially when using the NRT products offered by the friendly neighborhood Pharma House.

I.    Liked.     To.     Smoke.

When I got pregnant with both my boys – I gave up smokes.  Those were the easiest quits I did – the smoke made an already unstable stomach even more unstable.  Nothing like hugging Ralph (the porcelain god) after every cigarette to persuade oneself to give up the habit.  But after the kid popped out…here come my little round buddies in their square packs.

I.  Liked.  To.   Smoke.

It was the habit, the ritual, all the little quirky mannerisms that come WITH a cigarette that I desired more than the nicotine or the TSNA’s (Tobacco-Specific Nitrosamines) IN the cigarette.  Smokers will know exactly what I mean – the rest of you have no business judging until you’ve tried to give up an ingrained ritual of your own…say that first morning cup of coffee, the daily 5 mile run, or Saturday Night Sex-athons.

I.    Liked.    To.     Smoke.

Which is why it is so surprising to me that I am nearing my 6th year in a row without lighting a carbon-based plant substance on fire and sucking the results of that combustion deep into my lung tissue.

I quit smoking by finding a substitute which allows me to indulge in all the mannerisms and ritual, without that pesky smoke stinking up the place and coating my lungs with a layer of tar.  I use a vapor product.

And now – by some twisted quirk of fate – those same arrogant bastards who spent decades demonizing the lowly cigarette are intent on painting my shiny new habit with the same tarry brush.

Why?  Money.  Power.  Arrogance.  Chutzpah.  Compensating for smaller genitals or lack of a sex life?  At this point, anything is possible.

I watched the war against cigarettes unfold in all its ugly incarnations as one of many receivers of unwanted attention.  While it started with good, simple, and attainable directives (educate the public about the dangers of smoking, and more of the public will choose not to smoke), it has slowly morphed into a witch hunt reminiscent of the Salem Trials.  If things continue on down the same path they have been, I firmly believe the endgame will be to burn smokers at the stake – using their own brand of coffin nails instead of wood or straw to set the bonfire.

No…dammit…they won’t.  Second-hand smoke and all that might harm the cheeeeeeeeeeeeldren.

Believe me, or not, your choice.  But before you toss off a hate-filled rant in the comments section, stop.

Just for a second.

Stop.

Think.

Is your reaction to the smoking issue quick and heated?  Does your mind fill with various sound-bytes and memes demonizing the average Joe-smoker?  Guess what?  You’ve been groomed to respond in this manner – without thought, without introspection, without REALLY thinking it through.

Marinate on that for a bit….I’ll wait.

Just like Pavlov’s dog was taught to salivate at the sound of a bell…the majority of people who DON’T smoke have been conditioned to bare their fangs and growl at the slightest whiff of smoke – the very sight of someone lifting a cylindrical object to their mouths will ignite a deep-seated desire to prove they are less than you, beneath you…a proto-human it’s OK to hate.

And those who used to smoke?  That’s a combination of unfulfilled desire to once again partake mixed in with that same smarmy superiority ego-trip.  If I can quit, anyone can.  Just man up.

Have I gotten you to start thinking outside the programming yet?  Or – will you continue to let the architects of Public Hate Health ignite the flames (using specially-prepared ‘clean-burning’ wood so as not to add to the carbon-footprint of the world), certain they’ve got them damn smokers ground to a paste under their well-polished heels?

Time to shake off the programming, people…