I AM A FAG XIII

Morning fellow eager beavers. And away we go with the sexually explicit language. Oh Missy you may have set a new world record. (Unlike the measly 200 people that turned out bikini-and-speedo-clad in sydney the other day. Epic failed record attempt guys. Though I understand it would be far more comfortable in an apartment overlooking Martin Place with a pair of binoculars, a box of cheezles, your best pair of ogling eyes and a "Show Me Your Titties" shirt than parading in a newly post-winter early-spring not yet toned and tanned body through the streets of sydney...)

So a new week brings with it a new victim of my scrutiny. Under the recommendation of Ragsy, I fondled my first ever Longbeach Silver cigarette. Painful? not quite. Exciting? Less so. Educating? Yes. I have been waiting for just the right time to "sink" down to the low, commission-home, "sharna go en get ya ma some fags will ya" level of the, let's call it, Horizon/Longbeach income bracket. And though jobless and possibly thieving I technically fit quite comfortably into this socio-economic group, some part of my haggered body still holds it's head above the muck of low-class society and proudly in the "job seeking" not "unemployed" category. Hmph.

With a weekend of excited-colon-syndrome behind me (sorry gayboys, not excited-colon in the prostate-stimulating sense.. rather the more-liquid-than-solid secretion sense. And yet again i have managed to step beyond the threshold of acceptable societal conversation and into the murky, unforgiving depths of vulgarity. Smooth...) , I happily trundled off to Chemistry at 7am on a monday morning with a tall-skinny-flat-white in one hand and a Longbeach Silver in the other. With one eye on left-right-left-right butt cheeks of a nameless hot business woman in front of me, and another on the oh-so-sexy corporate rat walking impressingly beside her, I had all of my senses stimulated. to the extreeeeeeeme. extra large. big time.

Upon first fumbling a Longbeach, my well-seasoned and practiced hand noticed a stiffness and hardness in the cigarette previously unknown to me. (you're thinking it, not me.) Upon lighting, it seems an extra-long pull is needed to really get the darn thing combusting. I deduce that both these factors can be put down to a)tightly-packed tabacco and b)thicker paper. As I had anticipated, there is little kick in this victim. Simply opens the till and hands over the cash. (If you have learnt anything at all from me, it is that 'silver' suggests pussiness/weakness/lightness/mildness/WHERE'D YOU GO, FLAVOUR?) Therefore while I knew what was coming for me, I really was SO surprised at just how mild they really were. hm.

Though here's the twist: These cigarettes burn SO SLOWLY I swear YOU could run twice around the block, while stopping at 7/11 to get me a slush before it's even half-done. Which leads me to think IF ONLY these cigarettes tasted like...umm..cigarettes...then Longbeach would have a brilliant combination of long burning time, and flavour, which spells satisfaction in any language. And in addition, (presuming Longbeach actually has a cigarette in their range with flavour) Longbeach could single-handedly reduce the links in chain-smoking (think of it as lengthening the links, therefore you need less of them, gettttt it?)

WHICH equals less cigarettes munched WHICH equals less money spent WHICH equals less butts strangling our native fish or whatever WHICH, most importantly, equals a satisfied me (harder to come across than an emo with a sense of style).

SO we can say that (Longbeach+flavour) x 20 = Happy Missy + more money + less dead fish.

Said simply, Longbeach have got the batter of a glorious cake, oven pre-heated and cake tin greased, they just need to finish through with half an hour or so at a moderate temperature and a rich glossy icing.
(simply?)

*If you cannot count from 1 to 5, do not proceed beyond this point*

SO, Longbeach Silvers, I hand down my verdict.

• Attractiveness of Pack- Haven't even dabbled in commenting on the visual element of these cigarettes yet, have I? Right, well i'll give them points for trying. AND for being different. The faded light blue/dark blue/grey impression of, wow believe it or not, a long beach on the front offers a pictionary-like description of the product for those who are perhaps slightly illiterate or too damned lazy to read. (can i comment on the irony that the beach on the pack is cigarette-butt free, however have fun trying to find a real-life beach which is butt-less?) ahh. I am impressed, I mean after all, they call an angry mix of bright hues by 'Someone Picasso..' art, so why cant our cigarette industry get away with it? (And in one simple sentence i have managed to show my complete ignorance when it comes to 'art'). 4.5 out of 5 malignant tumours, (the bonus 0.5 for colour matching the barcode to the deep-blue ocean)

• Smoothness and Flavour. As i've quite clearly enunciated, the flavour is barely there. Like a g-string under a tight dress, barely detectable. Smoothness however is optimum. For what it's worth, sometimes all you want is some nice smooth smoke to suck down, not necessarily a tastebudful of "hi my name's tabacco". So dependant on what you're after, it's um not bad. The damn thing still (chemically) satisfies, easing the shakes and steadying the head, even if the tastebuds are screaming for attention. All said, it's diffucult justifying anything over a 3 out of 5 malignant tumours.

• Burning time- Nothing more to be said. Has a likeness to a fucking eternal flame. 5 out of 5 malignant tumours (DING DING DING DING WE HAVE OUR FIRST FULL MARKS!!)

• Lingering Taste- And we're back to less-than-perfect. Unfortunately ANY trace of flavour/taste/essence is irradicated after a few short breaths of fresh air and a swallow or two. 1 out of 5 malignant tumours.

AVERAGE SCORE FOR LONGBEACH SILVER: 3.375. (and as usual, my insane passion and dedication for accuracy and precision makes me go 'meh let's call it 3' )

So there you have it, a cigarette with as much promise as a young, impressionable child. So which way will you turn her?

Toward the path of success, of early nights at home with the family, hours spent cowering over textbooks to further her education, a week packed with extra-curricular activities, a low-fat diet, frilled socks and polished shoes, a dollar a week pocket money, a CD collection including Michael Buble and "French beginners", girl-only sleepovers, caffeine-free coke (only on special occasions though, such as the dawn of a new millenium and for the coming of Halle's Comet)....?

OR,

"come on darlin', let's take you down to the TAB now you're old enough to reach the counter. Yeah go grab ya dad a coaster for is beer will ya? Hang on possum just hold on to this nice man's hand while ya daddy goes out to have a fag.... Darl can you take the wheel, i just gotta scratch me balls...........Waddaya mean ya pregnant, ddn't ya ma tell ya to tell ya bloke to always pull out n say 3 hail-bloody-marys after you rooted?...."

Oh the choice is in your hands.

andagainuntilnexttimepleasedontdoanythingiwouldntdo.

Missy.