I AM A FAG XXXIII

Let me begin now by alerting you to the fact that i have been rather absent from the blogging world for the past, let's say, 3 months. Now although i'd like to think the world has been a cold, dark and seriously under-entertained place during my AWOL stint, i'm sure realistically you've barely notice my absence. Whether or not you've been feeling IAMAFAG withdrawals, I can now happily say that with the repair of my laptop, i am once again able to vomit words for your eyes only. Promising more vulgarity, sexism and social ignorance and less cold hard facts, the continuity of my blog is sure to once again waste my unvaluable time and hopefully distract you from much more important things.

It's difficult now to choose where i recommence. Seeing as i have continued (when financially able) to purchase varying types of cigarettes, i now find myself chronically behind. A common case of 'too many cigarettes, not enough access-to-a-functioning-laptop-and/or-an-internet-connection'...

I am pleased to report that there have been many a good event, cigarette-wise, occuring in the past quarter.

Firstly, i have resisted the begs/pleads from various members of my family and social circle to quit. I am sure that both the Government (especially the treasury) and Phillip Morris are forever thankful and greatful for my continued funding and support. Equally as pleased is the not-yet-known GP who will no doubt reap financial benefit off my deteriorating health and counltess physical ailments in the years to come.

Secondly, our cigarette dispensary localities have been blessed with a few more very welcome additions- nothing gets my heart beating quite like a fresh carcinogen on our behind-the-counter supermarket shelf.

Thirdly and perhaps most notably, i am but a few packs away from completing my cigarette artwork. Rivaling Van Gough (a drastic understatement), this visual feast incorporates an impressive amount of cigarette packs, arranged in a deliciously tempting fashion. Needless to say this Monet hangs proudly above my bed. (As soon as i get my fucking camera back i'll photograph the thing.)

With an itty bit of procrastination undertaken, i have to now decide decide decide who shall be first cab off the rank for the IAMAFAG rebirth. Stab in the dark, let's recommence with Deal Blue.

Now Deal is a range new to us. It's name gives a sense of "do it, yup, decision made", as if i could give the middle-aged, peroxide-blonde, perennially-tanned, Indianish Coles worker a laugh (or at least a snigger? let a fucking smirk break his incessantly stern face please?) by cheesily uttering "Oh it's a DEAL, gimme a pack of DEAL blue thanks.."

Its $8.95 price tag cements it at the very bottom of the cigarette price range, offering value-for-money unrivalled by its competitors, but also suggesting a mediocre smoking experience. Let's crunch some numbers.

Attractiveness of Pack- Basic and slightly bland. Nothing exceptional or notable about the outer shell of these pleasure sticks. The 90degree clockwise rotation of the title adds a degree of interest, however it may just be a design or printing error made by a group of first year design students in a Korean back-alley sweat shop. 1 out of 5 malignant tumours.

Smoothness and Flavour- The flavour is notable but not overly pleasant. Similar to easter egg chocolate- the first bite is delightful, the second satisfactory, but with each additionaly morsel consumed, the compound chocolate and low-grade cocoa tends to fuck with your taste buds and leave you feeling a little filthy. Smooth enough however, but there's little use having a smooth inhalation of a substance that tastes a lot like rotting shit. 1 out of 5 malignant tumours.

Burning Time- Here Deal recovers a little, withstanding consecutive long 'first-smoke-of-the-day' drags and a good hard pull. However, long is not necesarrily good. As we know, it's the whole package that makes the man, i mean smoke, worth sucking. Still, Deal is worthy of 3 out of 5 for the time it takes to finish him, um, them off.

Lingering Taste- Hangs around for a commendable amount of time. But like many situations that arise in life (a deja-screw that didnt quite go as well as you remembered, mistaking a short, butch, cropped-haired person for a man with moobs rather than frighteningly masculine female, getting caught checking yourself out in the reflection of a car window then noticing there are people inside..) it's often more desirable to just cut it short, get the fuck away, and never speak of it again. 2 out of 5.

AVERAGE SCORE FOR DEAL BLUE- 1.5 out of 5. Yep. I would have no problem never ever seeing Deal again. I would not remenisce our 25 short and sweet moments together, nor would i fantisize about would could have been. As quickly as Deal came into my life, they have disappeared. (i was foolish enough to try it's more exuberant brother, Purple. WELL! a classic case of "what WAS i thinking!?".. that's for next time though..)

Speaking of brothers, David, you rock. i love you.


Anyhoo, i do realise i am a little rusty and this blogging mumbo jumbo. I'm sure my months away have allowed my brain to lose even more of the little knowledge it contained. A combination of consecutive days of viewing day-time TV, Pepsi-goon mixes and a general lack of mental stimulation will hopefully one day bring me down to a state of intelligence mirroring Paris Hilton. Hey, she seems happy enough.

Love to you my dears. I have some tonic water that needs drinking before the bubbles all jump out of the glass. BASTARDS.

X. M