Turning Over a New Leaf...of Tobacco...?
Recently, I read through all of my old blog entries and, in addition to the shame I feel for only having accumulated a little over 20 posts in A YEAR AND A HALF, I noticed that a majority of my ramblings communicate a very negative tone. I wouldn't hesitate to describe myself as acerbic, sarcastic. My friends, I'm sure, would jump at the opportunity to share stories of my bitchiness, but I'd like to think that overall I'm a pretty positive person. I'm definitely ecstatic to be living in New York and that is why I have decided to make the new majority of my blogs about the wonderful and exciting instances I observe in this city.
But first...
I just have onnnnne more issue to get off my chest and it pertains to those arrogant asses (99% of the time men... not bitter...) who walk down the street smoking CIGARS! Cigars. They smell. Really really bad in my opinion. Let me rephrase, cigars smell really really bad out of the context in which they are usually enjoyed. Sure they can be fine relaxing on a deck with a tumbler of scotch and bowl of warm nuts. Or maybe in a shop where business men meet after work to discuss their busy days spent on the stock exchange floor. But on 54th street at 2 in the afternoon, overwhelming cigar smoke is NOT what I want to be inhaling for ten blocks... AFTER the smoker has passed me. I am not exaggerating, I counted, 54th, 55th, 56th and by 63rd Street, I could, YES, still smell that dumb suit's cigar. Honestly men, what on earth could you have to celebrate at two in the afternoon that can't at least wait until you have a stool to sit on and a bourbon to sip?! I can guarantee you that no one on the street accosted by the smoke of your cigar is hip hip hooraying for YOU.
I sincerely doubt that any of the offenders I've described above will ever happen upon my little blog, but in the case that it does occur, please heed this statement: Poo poo to cigar smoking on the street, you are ruining my walk through this gorgeous city in which I am soooo happy and positively charged to be living...
which is EXACTLY what my next entry will reflect...
unless something else really PISSES me off in the meantime...
:) Smiley face.
But first...
I just have onnnnne more issue to get off my chest and it pertains to those arrogant asses (99% of the time men... not bitter...) who walk down the street smoking CIGARS! Cigars. They smell. Really really bad in my opinion. Let me rephrase, cigars smell really really bad out of the context in which they are usually enjoyed. Sure they can be fine relaxing on a deck with a tumbler of scotch and bowl of warm nuts. Or maybe in a shop where business men meet after work to discuss their busy days spent on the stock exchange floor. But on 54th street at 2 in the afternoon, overwhelming cigar smoke is NOT what I want to be inhaling for ten blocks... AFTER the smoker has passed me. I am not exaggerating, I counted, 54th, 55th, 56th and by 63rd Street, I could, YES, still smell that dumb suit's cigar. Honestly men, what on earth could you have to celebrate at two in the afternoon that can't at least wait until you have a stool to sit on and a bourbon to sip?! I can guarantee you that no one on the street accosted by the smoke of your cigar is hip hip hooraying for YOU.
I sincerely doubt that any of the offenders I've described above will ever happen upon my little blog, but in the case that it does occur, please heed this statement: Poo poo to cigar smoking on the street, you are ruining my walk through this gorgeous city in which I am soooo happy and positively charged to be living...
which is EXACTLY what my next entry will reflect...
unless something else really PISSES me off in the meantime...
:) Smiley face.
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