I AM A FAG XIV

Yesterday morning I was looking through the past months in my "2009 Teddies of the World" calander hanging insultingly close to my bed head, (always there warning me how quickly the days pass and how little i manage to achieve in the given 24hrs of each day) and made the near gut-wrenching realisation that yes indeed, november comes before december, and december indicates hustle and bustle, noise and incessant green-and-red sparkly/shiny/silky/furry/jingly shit everywhere-all of which as a result of christmas.

Although i'm the first to admit i do actually like the damned festivities, I am also frighteningly aware that post christmas comes new years, and new years inevitably brings with it a demand for change. Now they say a change is as good as a holiday, but they also say "you better shake up ooh ooh ooh, cos i need a man, and my heart is set on yoooooou" and well that's just queer. So let's discount anything 'they' say and i will continue by explaining my fear of the thought of new years resolutions....

In the past, i am sure many of you can relate, my new years resolutions have not stuck much past the first few days of our fresh new year...in fact my last years resolution to quit smoking lasted all of, what, 2 minutes when i decided to fag up to, well, celebrate the new year. ahh the clear-minded thoughts induced by sufficient beer consumption to drown an elephant..

As i was saying, I find myself in november 2009 already (i suppose we all do. Unless you're michael J Fox, back to (or from? or past? forward to the past? ah my brain hurts) the future.which in that case, stop shaking my hand.no really. stop shaking. what, stop it. stop nodding at me. stop jiggling your pelvis. oh what? you can't? fail. ) and cant stop thinking about all the enviable things i have achieved in my 19 years of life.
..
the birth of my lovely mutant child iamafag.
...

oh like that time charmed my way into scoring a free wheel alignment.

...

(well that sure makes my hit list look comparitively long..)

and now I have another achievement to add to the long and colourful list: leaving the Gats with more money than what i arrived with.

So what did i spend the $20 gifted to me on? why no, not lego. not even pot pourri. Cigarettes. (wow no way?!)

aaaanyway somehow my smoking/buying of cigarettes has been dominating my writing speed so i have fallen 4 blogs behind. i better get to it. chop chop. Like brock trimming his bonsai and rozzle trimming her pubes for a big bone last night.... word.

A morning of chemistry and 3 coffees comfortably in my system found me craving more than caffeine. As only to be expected. And so while topping up my go-card at 7/11, my thoughts once again turned not to katy perry's luscious cleavage, and not even to my mounting credit card debt, but instead, to cigarettes. and just to keep on the safe side, i selected Winfield Golds to suck and score.

I have an entrenched admiration for 'gold' cigarettes, as this usually indicates a smooth flavour while still delivering a semi-decent to decent bang. Therefore i was as sure as the fat in a big mac that i would not be disappointed with my selection. AND, i am happy to report, this was the case. In most aspects, these cigarettes delivered enviable quality and a decent sense of satisfaction.

Visually they offer little appeal, a little on the bland side. Playing it safe, a little like spiking your own beer with vodka to ensure messiness. Like hiding that extra dollar coin in your bra for when the pokies urge becomes insupressable. Like watching the barrista make your coffee from start to finish to ensure the cunt heats the milk right. Like sticking to 99 in a 100 zone so your licence isnt revoked. Like triple-coating you eyelashes with mascara to ensure a nice panda-eyed look the next morning. Like watering your herbs with a mixture of water and love just to keep them happy.. and such..

Now, less blah blah blah more numerals.

• Attractiveness of Pack- As I said, it tries, but it's bland. However at least it's not IN YOUR FACE AAAH and over the top, or frightfully patterned. Though more than 2 cannot be awarded. Sorry. It takes more than trying hard to impress me.

• Smoothness and Flavour- Very smooth, subtle yet satisfying flavour, (a hint of caramel popcorn at the back of the throat. no, really). I do wish, however, for a little more strength. But that's the job for blues and reds i suppose..... 3.5 out of 5 malignant tumours.

• Burning Time- Impressively steady. AND in addition, regardless of the direction/strength of the wind, these babies tend to light up with great ease, burn evenly, and not smoulder unless really sucked on. A bonus in my opinion. 4 out of 5 malignant tumours.

• Lingering Taste- Still detectable after a round of breathes and even an accidental gulp of seawater. (oh and i was strutting so confidently into the waves, until a bastard dumper proceeded to upturn me, dack me, and make me look like the fool i really am) The caramelly flavour i spoke of before tends to hang around more than the tabacco. Though overall, s'alright. 3 out of 5 malignant tumours.

AVERAGE SCORE FOR WINFIELD GOLD: 3.125... again with the 'gah about 3' scores. Well the results may be all too similar but, wtf do you want me to do about it? eh? huh? yeah.

Well after a little too much sun today (and by a-little-too-much-sun i mean sunglasses tan/sunburn and a striking resemblance to a rock lobster), i sit in slight agony, bra-less and baggy-clothed, reaping the benifit of a soothing westerly wind. On ya Kenmore.

oh and segue- need a place in Brisbane to stay? Join me.

luff,

missy.

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.

I AM A FAG XII

Well i speak to you about 400kgs lighter than i did last time we conversed, having spent much of the past 2 days shitting out my entire digestive tract and wallowing in self-pity. Nothing that a good 30 solid hours of sleep cant heal, right? So here's to you Mcdonalds-or-possibly-M&M-yogo-or-whatever-happened-to-make-my-insides-so-upset. You shitted me off quite a bit (pardon the pun) but have not defeated me.. yet..

In a feeble attempt to errm 'dry up' my insides, i have been smoking perhaps more than usual in my wakeful hours...the thought of smoke and ash fragments meandering aimlessly in my body inspires me to think that somewhere along their journey they may heal or numb the pain..

Since reporting to you about the glory of Pall Mall Menthols, I have been hot on the trail of Choice Blues..... As you may recollect among my previous posts (and BY GOD you better or fuck off now and stop calling yourself a fan/human/worthy of life) I have already given Choice Silvers the once-over....and in doing so had my spectacular revelation about their insanely frightful and too-coincidental-not-to-be-planned likeness to Marlboros. A step up from silvers (well two steps up if you must be so pedantic), Blues have the promise of more wail kick and scream than silvers. Did they deliver? The questions hanging on the lips of man woman and child alike. Well it's not a yes and no question in my mind. Not definite. Unlike the certainty that yes, Delta Goodrem blows and no, i'm not going to buy Nintendo/Sunsilk/So Good/Proactive products just because she tells me to, it's difficult to judge Choice Blues as either hit or miss.

Today, while feeling game enough to venture more than 3 ft away from the sanctuary and safety of the bathroom, i decided to pop down to the Botanical Gardens out umm that way, you know, towards the 2pm sun.. and have a good lie down, embrace the fresh air, wrap up my latest novel and drench my lungs in the goodness of tabacco shhmoke. I'm determined not to whinge (about the chirpy children, canoodling couples, monsterous mosquitoes, incessant insects) rather speak fondly of the relaxation I gained from lying (vulnerable) out in the open of this great grand city of ours.

While i switched my "maybe i can meet a nice boy here" thoughts to a more likely and achievable "maybe i wont scare masses and masses of frightened humans away today", I took a moment to reflect on my achievements thus far in swimming through my ocean of cigarette brands. Then i realise how far i have to go. I have merely dipped my big toe (deformed and scabby at that) into the very edge of this great wide body of water. Though as i have said, i am dedicated. Nothing will stand in my way. Through cough and splutter, cigarette price-rise and shabbied, beer-ravaged packs, through bumming and lending lighters and sharing smokes, i shall not be deterred.

Right so off the path less-travelled thank you very much and back from the beaten track, we're left with the issue at hand- Choice Blues. With each new pack i select, i find it more and more difficult to me surprised, and more so, impressed by them. It's as if the majority of cigarettes end up in the "meh not bad" pile, and less and less make me go "BANG BOOM that's good tabacco".. Which is disappointing to say the least.

And no exception to this rule are Choice Blues. Yes you may say smoking is smoking is smoking, but every now and then i do wish a cigarette would talk back to me, you know. Say "hey bitch, suck me" while rolling it's tongue around it's lips suggestively and thrusting vigouresly with it's flat and ripped pelvis. hm. (Here lies the reason i am single...?) Although it may be considered shameful to want to share a special moment with a cigarette, I can honestly argue that it is NOT criminal or illegal for me to want 'something more' from an object i care so deeply and whole-heartedly about.

Me trying to get to the point is like driving from brisbane to sydney via darwin- You know that may possibly be the long way, but by god you waste a glorious about of time doing it that way....

So let's throw some numbers in, just to keep our old Maths teachers happy and possibly to attempt some FOCUS and DIRECTION amongst the rambling..

• Attractiveness of Pack- Arguably plain. You may think Robert Pattinson is attractive (i wouldnt admit it though unless you want me hunting you down in the middle of the night with a jaggerd wooden stake as my weapon of choice and all but foul words hurling un-edited from my vicious mouth) , though i think his resemblance to a short-snouted seahorse to be quit uncanny. You say banana, i say penis. Pretty dang darn sweat-shop mass-produced b-grade. i'm sorry. Simple but un-satisfying. 2 out of 5 malignant tumours.

• Smoothness and Flavour- It's a bit like corn on a cob without salt. Like weetbix without umm soggy soggy. Like shaving your legs to below your knee. Unfinished. Incomplete. There's just something missing....Flavour exists, but is slightly unpleasant really..This cigarette really leaves a fair bit to be desired.......2 out of 5 malignant tumours.

• Burning Time- Picks up a few lost marks here. Sticks around long enough to swap at least first names and phone numbers... However it seems the tabacco is pretty loosly and inconsistenly packed? or something.. because at times, ashing causes the 'whole bloody lot to fall out'. or something.... either way, burns more slowly than skinny bitch pall malls. ummmm let's say 3 out of 5..

• Lingering Taste- Not too bad really. The flavour hangs on the underside of your tongue and in the very fleshy mass of your cheeks. Through sip of water, coffee and even chewing gum for a while, the flavour remains. Kudossssss ssssssss. 4 out of 5.

AVERAGE SCORE FOR CHOICE BLUES: 2.5? something un-impressive. "Average". Hiding in the corner behind the trash can to avoid being picked on for your bogus glasses and ridiculously hideous face. I would not recommend this cigarette, BUT for it's $3 less a pack than Marlboro, it's not ummm toooooooo bad.. really...

So on this sunday night, while my insides are slowly solidifying and the tap is turning off, finally, i wish you all a happy week ahead of you. Get down get down get down.

misssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssy.

I AM A FAG XI

Re reoow. Hi hi hi hi hi hi. Excuse me Mr President.

Well what can say? so many cigarettes, so little time.
Since my last post (circa 3 days ago? maybe four if you're lucky..) I have chewed through 3 different brands. So less chat more rating. Down to business. No time for sitting on the boss's desk with my pencil skirt slipping up my thigh ("oh Mr. CompanyDirector you dont really want to fire me...") ... Just into it. Straight in. Like diving under a frothing wave at the beach. No time to appreciate the iciness of the water, head under, no fooling around. No funny business. "Yes please i'll have that coffee before next christmas if you don't mind". *tap tap tap of foot impatiently. "Why yes i AM actually in a hurry.."

Bam. Pall Mall Slims Green. While tsk tsking about the state of our country, (happy couples holding hands, prosperous youth smiling contentendly, old ladies free to walk (crawl, drag along, turtle/snail along) at their own pace..) makes me sick really, I decided i'd hit up Coles for it's finest tabacco. Finest money (um $9) can buy. Because my doctor tells me i'm female, i still have a place in my heart for those skinny slim 'pretty' Pall Mall slims. Subtle targeted marketing which works disgustingly well. AND green=menth menth menthol which ticks me more than Nike. Aaaaoo.

As I realise I have again managed to lose my favourite lighter in the possessed deep dark abyss of my hangbag, I decide to also purchase a mini-Bic to get the fire started.
"whaa colouurrr you waant?" asks Miss Korea at the counter. I laugh incredulously and say "i dont give a shit".. snap. that's what you get for trying to Serve Me Better Coles. Yeah, you'll love it.

Initially I am once again breathtaken by the slender pack's cosy fit in my palm. Curling my fingers tenderly around its smooth exterior, I cradle it toward the exit and immediately undress it from its plastic encassing and fumble greedily for the top. (hey hey hey, it's good enough for Mills and Boon) ...

Prissy, wanky and possibly a little tweeny, it seems these cigarettes must be smoked while humming along to the Ting Tings and must MUST be shared among a group of no-boys-allowed, only freshly-pubescent teenage girls while talking about "how TOTALLY lame Jason was being last night, OH EM GEEE he totally barred me off for COD and i'm SO annoyed because i REAAAAALLY wanted to like take it like further, like i'm like ready to like kiss him and like i even bought new lipgloss and like i asked him to come to the New Moon premier like WITH ME and like now he's making up like excuses and it's so lame cos i just want him to buy me a pink slushy we can like share, yeah i KNOOOW Soph, like it would be the BEST time to start kissing like even before the movie started, like we can share a straw and then he'll lean in and like kiss me and i'll taste sooooo good like cos not only do i have new lipgloss but pink slushies are so totally sweet...."

HOWEVER, I can put an XY twist on this predominately femalesque cigarette-with a beer in my left hand and an almighty belch erupting from the pit of my gut. To be less umm figurative, i overlook the pussiness of the appearance of this cigarette and can take it for its true value-the sweet sweet cool menthol tabacco goodness of its inner core. Never judge a book by it's cover they say, and hell, Stephen King is lucky many eager readers obviously live by this motto, as otherwise 'Misery', with it's cartoon 'angry typewriter' cover would not have sold even a single copy... ... ..

Slim cigarettes take me back to my smoking pre-engrained-habit-life-or-death-i-need-a-fag days... Nights sitting out the back of the One with BB on one side, Zee on the other, puffing happily on a vogue or a dunhill essence... aah. The instant refreshing menthol taste makes me feel like there's a party in my mouth and everyone (oh except him and him) is invited.

The elegantly-styled cigarette is reminiscent of Hollywood golden day movies. Length is obviously an important dimension to have in many every day... errr.. situations. Thinness is apparently admirable. Together they form an unbreakable, porn star team-impressive, desirable and most of all, arousing.

The absence of an orange tip, opting for cloud white from top to filter, is reminiscent of all good menthol brands, and admirable for its streamline and consistent appearance.

It seems there is nothing these cigarettes cant do-soothe the throat, unblock the sinuses, clear the head, refresh the breath and, most importantly, send off a waft of sweetly-scented smoke potent enough to erradicate hayfever and stuffiness for miles around. In addition to their impressive medicinal properties, they offer a buzz close enough to a full-strength cigarette to keep even the most dedicated smokers satisfied and relieved.

Now to convert all these words words words into numbers...

• Attractiveness of Pack- I know I have done a satisfactory job at describing in detail my level of contentment and jaw-dropping impressiveness of the pack in all its glory. It's a big call, but this pack is infallible. Compact while delivering quality. Attractive while remaining solid, sturdy and un-scathed even while wrestling with my wallet, keys, latest novel, plastic knife and fork set, kiwi spoon, cosmetic bag, mirror, brush, perfume, phone, eco-sack, diary, paw paw cream, nailpolish, tissue pack, chewing gum, bobby pins, swiped Gloria Jeans straws, swiped McDonald's straws, swiped commercial/industrial sized roll of toilet paper from the Indroo cinemas (YES, I KNOW, it's a sure-fire sign you need to get a job/money when you're stealing toilet paper) in my bag. So close to perfect it hurts, like a riptide. 4.9999999999 recurring out of 5 malignant tumours. (Just because admitting perfection of anything from me is as rare as me going more than a minute without whinging about something superficial.)

• Smoothness and flavour- The smoothness is comparable to a newly-tarred section of freeway. With your tyres on a recommended 36psi, the drive is bump-free and like sailing on a waveless ocean without a breath of wind... The flavour tingles your tongue nicely, while curving gently downwards into your lungs, drenching them in a coolness otherwise only achievable with Ray Bans and a subscription to Frankie. 4.5 out of 5 malignant tumours.

• Burning time- NOOOOOOOO! well even Miranda Kerr poos. Even the things that appear perfect have flaws. The burning time for Pall Mall Slims is less than impressive. yes yes yes i take into full consideration that these cigarettes are CONSIDERABLY slimmer than traditional cigarettes, it still does not excuse them from the at-least-an-ad-break-long rule:I am shocked and appalled that I can leave The Amazing Race at an ad break to go outside for a smoke and be finished and return before the end of the break! I mean, it is easier for me to blame the excessive duration of ad breaks on Prime, as it's so difficult for me to in any way slander the humble cigarette, but I think in this case I best accept the truth and admit that even this heaven-sent cigarette is flawed. I can only award 2 out of 5 for burning time.

• Lingering Taste- Not impressive really. Menthol cigarettes tend to hang on the breath for longer than a traditional cigarette, however in this case it is the menthol taste alone, and not the tabacco at all, that lingers. Of course I don't have a problem with this, but less lingering taste+quick burning time=more cigarettes smoked times more money divided by available funds (answer being somewhere between -$257 and bankruptcy) 3 out of 5 malighant tumours.

AVERAGE SCORE FOR PALL MALL SLIMS GREEN: 3.6..... Won big points for 'prettiness' and taste as you have seen, but the longevity of the glory is less than impressive. Still, highly recommended regardless of final score. Like a hot-tittied girl with a fugly face, don't totally discount it. Sometimes you have to take the good and the bad, and just paper-bag what you dont like and supplement the flaws with some decent fondling and a bit of imagination... you know..

Well for those who know best, take my advice and run with it.

For those who know I don't actually know what is best, or right from wrong for that matter, stay in school eh?

Til next time, say hi to your mum for me. Well actually she's between my legs so i'll just say hi to her myself. geez.

Vulgarly yours,

Missy.

I AM A FAG X

With the official 40th Birthday of Sesame Street being celebrated today, I am honoured to contribute to the festivities with a fresh dose of iamafag- what more child-friendly, educational topic to be preaching about than cigarettes on a day like this? The Count taught us the various numerals between 1 and 100, Cookie Monster subliminly taught our future pot-heads how to satisfy our weed munchies as quickly and efficiently as possible, and big bird taught us that anything large and yellow should be embraced and befriended, and should not be peeled, sliced and blended with natural yoghurt and a drizzle of honey, or even used as an educational aid for demonstrating how to put on a condom.

That said, I'd like to think that iamafag will go on to teach many pure eager-eyed children not only about the glory of time consumption, but also the beauty, elegance, satisfaction, PLEASURE, brilliance, happiness and joy of our blessed cigarette industry.

"here here"...

This morning I purchased Winfield Blues (in addition to buying washing powder, gee it's good having clean underwear again...) Sticking to the 'blue' theme, I thought this a logical step forward in my experiment. Brandishing phrases on its pack like "The Genuine One" and "Force No Friend, Fear No Foe", I was preparing for "waltzing matilda" and an army of Australian Military Soldiers to come rampaging from the pack as soon as i flipped the top. Disappointment. I sure silenced them...

Now I am not the type to 'take the piss' out of Australia, afterall, I was but one home-sick moment away from getting the Southern Cross tattooed on my left shoulder blade when i was overseas rather than my more sensible, pretty choice. And I am bang quick sharp on most questions offered in the theme of Australiana in trivia questions. BUT the fact that Winfield's are "a decent smoke with that same recognisable Aussis taste" in every smoke doesn't necessarily push my buttons. float my boat. raise my flag. hit the spot.. you know.

That said, I kept my mind as open as Pammy's legs. *all together now- SNAP.
So, this is what I found..

• Attractiveness of Pack- The 3D "blockbuster" NOW IN CINEMAS 'title' aka name on the front is a little OTT. As is the ridiculously textured background and the shameless self-promotion decorating every spare square mm of the pack. (not that I am at all opposed to shameless self promotion...) But i'll give it to them, the nasty health authorities have forced their sinful warnings on 3 of the 6 faces of the pack, kudos to Winny for squeezing every penny out of the rest of the space available to them on the pack. This all said, any visual that distracts me from the dying child, rotting lungs, toxic chemical, diseased eye, lardy shit being squeezed from an aorta shamelessly splayed on the pack only contibutes to my stubborn resistance to any desire to quit. Take that government health authorities... Let's say 3 out of 5 malignant tumours, if only for trying. hard.

• Smoothness and Flavour- I dont know quite what Winfield means by 'aussie flavour'-i imagine smoking a thong, kangaroo or VK Holden wouldnt quite compare.. Though I can identify a unique tang that i haven't experienced in other cigarettes. Whether or not this slightly caramel, slightly roast-lame flavour comes from the sweat of 'true blue aussie' workers labouring endlessly over at the tabacco factory is for you to decide. The cigarette is admittedly enjoyable, offering a smooth exhale and a pleasant buzz. This one's getting 4.5 out of 5 malignant tumours.

• Burning Time- Hasty. Swift. *chatty ex-friend approaches "sorry i.. umm.. have to go i have.. umm. an appointment with... umm... my gynecologist....." *sprints erratically in the opposite direction. That sort of thing. It's as if this cigarette is so eager to leave me it would rather self-destruct at a phenomenal rate than linger in my presence a second longer. Rather than take offence to this, I say 'eff youuu'. 1 out of 5 malignant tumours. "TAKE THAT WINFIEEEEEEEELD!"..

• Lingering Taste- Much like the cigarette itself, the flavour really doesnt like to hang around. Doesn't stick around to clean up the beer bottles after the party. Doesn't stay for breakfast. Doesn't call you tomorrow.......sigh. (would a conversion to priesthood or lesbianism help me?.. what?) .... umm so yes taste, taste. It's all gone quicker than the fag itself. 1 out of 5 mlgnnt tmrs.

So although it looked like Winny Blues were gearing up for a decent score, BOOM they desend into oblivion more quickly than my falling bank balance...

AVERAGE SCORE FOR WINFIELD BLUES: 2.375.... umm let's say 2.

So here my creativity and writing stamina has shrivelled up and failed like Mr. Uh-Oh's* member when presented with a nice, young, supple asshole.

*Not his real name.

Now i'm not forcing anyone, not weilding whips and handcuffs, but I would really really really really really really really really really appreciate if YOU show some appreciation if you like what you read..Follow me? Send me a valentine? stalk back and forth past my bedroom window in the wee hours of the morning? In summary, show me some love.......

Til next time baby,

Missy.

I AM A FAG IX

Hoy Hoy.

As a leopard never changes its spots, I too must admit my inability to change mine.
Now please dont take this as an admission to being spotty. No, I dont have herpes/measles/liverspots..
I am simply stating that I have reverted back to my good ole Marlboros. tsk tsk. BUT, with a twist, of course, as i never once approach a cigarette counter without thinking long and hard about my life objective, my (greatest, all-encompassing, un-suppressable) priority- IAMAFAG.

I would not abandon my readers...erm..possibly reader,singular, may be less of an exaggeration. So I have chosen Marlboro Blue to test for its roadworthiness, vigor and virility (though virile in the sense of 'tough shit', not in the fertile, masculine, sperm-filled sense.. right) Think of it as a step back in my attempts to lose my bias toward Marl if you will, you pessimistic hag, or as a touching-base retracing back to my roots type movement...mm.

Although I swear to myself bi/tri/quad/hexi?weekly to NEVER purchase cigarettes from anywhere but the nasty big grocery/retail joints aka woolworths, I forgie myself when Night Owl is oh so much closer, i'm there buying lollies anyway, and the $2 extra a pack can go suck it when I need a cigarette. Like a bull at a gate, no reinforced steel or electric fence is sure to stop me.

So night owl takes my money, I take their cigarettes and an assorted baggie of lollies. Done. I see it as winning, even though each credit card statement brings me closer and closer to financial ruin (not far away now) and ultimate suicide.

Eventually I remember my original sunday aim-not lollies, not just to leave the house (though sunday daytime television had me teetering dangerously close to the edge of self-destruction) and not even exclusively to buy cigarettes. No, more than that, my sunday aim was to acquire a fresh new range of stationary from Office Works. Nice.

In an attempt to 'fully psyche up' for the commencement of my bridging course, I thought a new eraser and a sweet set of highlighters would surely start me off on the right foot. Office works is a mecca not only for roaring school children seeking out more more MORE coloured textas and the bendiest ruler money can buy, but also for such hopeful, possibly deluded types as myself.

Something about the wide open spaces inside Office Works always gets my heart a pounding and my head filled with hope and belief in the glory of living. No exaggeration. The aisles and aisles of dedicated (though often overpriced) goods makes me froth. Zoo eat your heart out.

My pulse quickens as I pass tresstle tables packed with colour-coordinated office organisation equipment. "You dont need it, you DONT NEED IT" I repeat to myself in order to avoid falling for a beautiful new $49 leather-bound diary (which i would only fill with pictures of boobs and song lyrics that probably dont exist anyway)..When passing by the post-its and pushpins i avoid eye contact and quicken my pace ("no, resist, you must RESIST")..
Finally i arrive at the pencil, eraser and pen aisle. easy right? At this point I take a moment to wipe the sweat off my brow and contemplate just how close i came to maxing out my credit card on an assortment of 'oh so pretty' stationary goods. Phew.

("hey ma, Missy's gone bonkers, she's sposta be writin' 'bout fags n now she's ramblin' on 'bout farkin paperclips!!") Yes I am very aware I have fallen off topic.

Back on the horse eh? Right so where were we? Right so the POINT of this was to say that after Officeworks I somehow decided to drive to ipswich. Look i dont know why, ok. I was just on the M5 and didn't feel like getting off. AND here's the segue, while driving on the good ole Centenary Highway, I once again had an opportunity to thoroughly try and test my Blues. To wrap this all up into a raggedy and slighty frazzled bow, I am happy with what I found. Here we go...

• Attractivness of Pack- As I have previously stated, Marlboro packs are a little like steamed rice. Arrowroot biscuits. Boiled broadbeans. Mischa Barton. Plain. Unremarkable. However "hip hip horray" for blue. Blue Blue Blue here's to you. I really do enjoy blue. 3 out of 5 malignant tumours

• Smoothness and Flavour- mmmhmm that's good tabacco. Soft enough flavour to offer a gentle caress through the mouth and into the lungs, though gutsy enough to remind you you're killing yourself. The smoothness is questionable however, not harsh by any means but slightly bumpy on the exhale. Is it just me or is there a hell of a lot more 'smoke' in these cigarettes than usual? Again it could simply be the direction of the wind or the play of the evening light, but i feel like more of a billowing smoke-stack than i'm used to. BUT all this said, if you smoke, you smoke, so I cant be whinging about the...erm...smoke. AND it makes me feel even cooler, when my exhaled smoked curls up around my eyes, I take on a watery, squinty-eyed look and instantly resemble an uber cool audrey hepburn or, probably more of a resemblance here, a cranky John Daly. All said, 4 out of 5 should do it.

• Burning Time- enough time to light, drag, ash, indicate, turn up music, skip track, turn up music more, adjust mirrors, drag, death stare bogan in ute, ash, drag, indicted, accelerate, turn music up, repeat track, drag, indicate, brake, merge, check speedo, ash, drag.. you get it. Long. Good. Happy times. 4.5 out of 5.

• Lingering Taste- AAAOOOOOOOOOOOOooo oooo oooo. alright ya. No, I haven't chewed tabacco before, but let's pretend I have. I would imagine that little bits of it would get stuck in your teeth, allowing you to taste that shit long after it's been "pah taaaanged" out of your mouth in an almighty spit..The flavour from a Blue is similar to the flavour i imagine from a good ole chomp on tabacky. SO yes. Impressive lingering taste. 4.5 out of 5 malignant tumours.

MARLBORO BLUES AVERAGE SCORE: like 4.

*Dear Reader. I am frightfully aware that my ratings have all basically been rounded to about 4. I am also aware that a rating system out of 5 might not have been the best way to accurately judge such a broad variety of cigarettes. If you have a problem with this, that makes two of us. As I have said to all who have complained, i'm saving the 1's and 2's out of 5's for when I get desperate and hit up the real dodgy brands. I'm talking Horizon 40's. Longbeach. Enough to make me gag and cough in preparation for what my lungs are yet to endure. But i'm steadfast. I'm dedicated. I'm on a mission, call me Apollo 21 for fuck sake just believe that I will not stop until I sink my scraggly fingers deep into every pack of sssshmokes out there.*

Now that's all cleared up, bye.

Missy.

I AM A FAG VIII

It's days like these that make me believe that there is a god and he is pumping my veins with heroine (NB No, this is not an admission to a belief in a higher power. Agnosticism still shits on any sort of belief system not centred around looting and sacrificing animals.)

Everything went my way. Bing. zoom. everything pleasant that could have happened, did.
a) I woke up, alive, even after a full night of torturous dreams (vanessa amarossi songs on repeat, 85year old men driving '88 datsuns in front of me, the closest overtaking lane kilometres ahead, and general knife-wielding, guns-blazing, punani-raping, ugly children nightmares you have from time to time.)
b) I craved avocado and tomato on vita-wheat crackers, and what do you know, the avocados were ripe and ready to mung on. Nice
c) Leaving Lismore at the nice ripe time of 9pm meant zero-to-less-than-zero traffic on the roads.
and d) I FINALLY FOUND A CIGARETTE WITH THE PROMISE OF RIVALING MARLBORO. But really. REALLY.

Name? Choice-how appropriate, (soon they may be my everyday choice eh? )
While perambulating around Lismore Central Woolworths, cracking my knuckles in a 'i-need-a-cigarette' way, I thought it would be appropriate to a) take advantage of the 20cent-ish discount generally found on cigarettes in NSW and b)choose my next victim for testing, as my Pall Malls were all but gone.

Scanning my eyes over the myriad of 'pretty colours' aka poisonous cigarettes, I instinctively dropped my eyes down to the price-tag ("WOW, coles brand cashews are 0.02c less per 100g than Nobby's Nuts, SCORE") and found a price in the single digits. $9? fo serious? Nice. And so "pack of Choice Silvers thanks"left my lips and a delicious new pack of ciggy babies (ew) left the register lad's hands into mine.

First impression? "Veni vidi vici?" wtf? The same Marlboro crest and motto blazened the pack. WHAT? AND in addition, "Phillip Morris" as the company which produces them... I smell a rat. It's almost as if (and like i know i'm right) 'Phillip Morris' make cigarettes packaged as both Marlboros (for $12 a pack) AND Choice (for $9)....The moral? (said in deep southern-American accent) "Hell yeaah ma i just saved me 25% at the checkout."
-Shove that in your pipe and smoke it Coles Dollar Dazzlers Woolworths Red spot Bi-Lo big brand sales..

With this new discovery, i just dont see any possible way life could get better. So this is what they call nirvana. Nice.

I'd like to say that I have thoroughly tried and tested these cigarettes all day. My favourite passtime just so happens to be freeway driving in conjunction with chain smoking-nothing else in life gives me such pleasure. No nothing. No not even that. Nothing.
Playing "empty" with Colin and thanking him with ever extra 10kms he powers on, long after the empty light has come flashing on. The "Chinderah Service Centre 21kms" sign gives me new hope. Cheap thrills idealising actually arriving at the petrol bowser without the needle on the petrol gauge truly sitting well below 'E' . Cheaps thrills indeed.

So with Colin having half a belly-full of Ethanol-Fuel mix and me a belly and a half full of double-shot-skinny-flat-white-no-sugar-thanks, we're on the road again.

The joy I gain from night driving can be put down to the false sense of security i get thinking 'ah it's night, no police would be so foolish as to cross me this evening'..... Something so empowering about driving that sneaky 12kms over the speed limit that gets your heart a racing and your egotistical head growing second by second. But undoubtedly THE MOST satisfying aspect of night driving is seeing the orange glow of cinder fly out my window when I ash. Like a personal fireworks display. hm.

Ok so enough anecdotes and into the serious stuff.

• Attractiveness of Pack- Meh. Nothing special. But the Marlboro-esque seal and straight-up honest 'take me or leave me' attitude of silver colour wins points for blatent obviousness. Nothing more than a 3 out of 5 malignant tumours however.

• Burning Time- Fine. As good as Marlboros (did i fucking mention i'm convinced they're the same cigarette??!!) 4 out of 5 malignant tumours.

• Smoothness and Flavour- Smooooooth as 007 (if these cigarettes had a pair of arms and a shaken-not-stirred martini in its grip I am sure it could bed me within 4 seconds flat). Flavour is milder than i prefer, though of course this is only to be expected from light/fine/pissy/man-boy/girly/virgin-bride cigarettes. However not bad, a leader among it's class. To refer back to a previous simile, it's "like sucking fresh air (BUT with the kick of a small mule) through a straw"....They easily rate 4 out of 5.

• Lingering Taste- Well to be honest the taste had little-to-no time to linger at all before another cigarette was shovelled hastily into my mouth (sorry, but the rule while driving is a new cigarette for every overtake/reflector pole/tree/roadsign...) so I dont really have much of an idea... However the tabacco can still be tasted through the kick of caffeine and after deliriously singing along to Darryl Braithwaite, AFI, Ball Park Music ( www.myspace.com/musicfromtheballpark ), Smashing Pumpkins, Regina Spektor, and an assortment of (very compatible and similar. ha) artists on my most current driving compilation....So kudos for that. 4 out of 5 malignant tumours.

AVERAGE SCORE FOR CHOICE FINES: about 4. 'now we're talking'

Well now i am almost ready for bed. With a bellyful of McCafe Hot Chocolate (with marshmallows thank you very much) and a sinful serve of Chocolate jaffa cake (for DINNER non the less) there is little more contentment i can gain from this evening.

Until next time, I command you all to enjoy the rest of your weekend and 'dont do anything i wouldnt do'. Which basically rules out anything educational, enlightening or any positive contribution to mankind.

Later,

Missy.

I AM A FAG VII

With a storm a-brewing, study hanging depressingly over your (yeah not mine, sorry. Lucky me) head, and an eager eye for any sources of procrastination, I am hoping you have stumbled across this, my blog. Let me tell you, I have never been so proud to offer a means of distraction. Ever. "I'll show you UQ, i'll have the last laugh. mu ha ha cough cough splutter die"..
How my life is filled with purpose..

ANYHOW it's time I finally put a bit of a spanner in the works. Menthol. ("AAAAAAH RUN CHILDREN RUN")

Because i believe in honesty and honesty-in-a-bottle aka Beer, I must admit that for a good 4 months of my life Marlboro Menthols were my poison. I still get my dear friends reminding me how ridiculous i am when i confided in them that "i've switched to Menthols because i have a sore throat". nice.

But hear me out. (or go listen to Michael Buble for all i care, do whatever you want. fark.) Menthols have a pop and sizzle unlike your average purely tabacco (plus a few gentle mild ingredients, you know, cyanide, rocket fuel and solidified death) cigarettes.

Breathe in. Feel that coolness? Well, now your throat mouth and lungs are as cool as you are, you fag-guzzling legend. Rock on.

Menthols have a homely aroma that just screams comfort. Warmth. A perfect winter cigarette. Mittens on your hands, menthol in your cells. Second only to shagging on a shag in front of a raging fire, or alternatively and even more orgasmically, a snug pair of undies straight out of the dryer. Moan.

Dont get me wrong, anytime's a good time for menthol time. However after a while, aka 4 or 5 months, a menthol just doesnt hit you like a bus anymore. Not even like a shopping trolley up the ankle. zip nothing nudda. May as well inhale flaming Buttermenthols. sigh.

It's actually very difficult to rate a menthol using the same criteria as my previous brands. The complexity of flavours is almost incomparable, but hey, i'll give it my best shot.

• Attractiveness of Pack- As with other Marlboro strengths, the pack is simple and relatively un-impressive. However, it's minimalist design and easily distinguishable colour coding floats my boat. Just to be fair and HONEST, the only buzz i get from a Marl pack is the knowledge that it contains my dear Marlboros. In an effort to be objective, i rate the pack 2.5 out of 5 malignant tumours as realistically, Marlboro could do much better.

• Burning Time- Nice. Because the tips on Marl Menthols are white, there tends to be an optical illusion making you think you have more cigarette left than you actually do. Tear :( . This said though, the burning time is excellent, offering many drags and countless moments of thorough enjoyment. 4 out of 5 malignant tumours.

• Smoothness and Flavour- Ay. Now you're talking. As i previously tried to explain, it is near impossible to accurately compare a menthol cigarette to your average straight up tru blu yeah yeah fag. Starting with smoothness, Menthols tend to caress the throat, numbing the gums slightly and cooling your respiratory tract. Exhaling through your nose while smoking a menthol borders on orgasmic. The tingle and burn reminds me of the saying ''there's a fine line between pleasure and pain".. Flavour. damnnn. Let's define 'flavour' as 'tasting something' (duh missy you dong) so let's say that you taste A LOT while smoking menthols. Overall it's an impressive balance between zing and pazazz. 4 out of 5 malignant tumours.

• Lingering Taste- reow. Hangs on and on and on. (like, perhaps, a drunk girl- "oh em gee you're going, please dont go baby, stay with me, dont go dont go DONT GO babeeeeeeee"). eh. I like it (not my inner missy, the lingering taste) 4 out of 5 malignant tumours.

MARLBORO MENTHOLS AVERAGE SCORE: 3.625. Um. Let's say 4? yeaaaah ok.

So kids, what i should say is "study hard, go on, off you go, heads down, books out. one plus one is two. "

What i will say instead is, i have a carton of Blondes on my floor. help yourself.

Next time fuckkkkers.

missaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay.

I AM A FAG VI

WELL FUCK ME.


apple pie+ shite load of beer in my belly.
what better time to fill in my blog, surrounded my equally minded friends,
roadtesting the FARK out of a selection of cigarettes?

So Dale just wacks out M gold. He know's my weak spot. so to speak. Bringing me back to my roots. Marrrrrlboro ("hey remember that time that i would only smoke, MAAAAARLBORO")

Rather than reset my bias towards all (inferior..snigger) cigarettes, it has refreshed my aim to seek a better cigarette. Here we go.

Pre wednesday night Triv at the KT, i find myself short of cigarettes and pro cash, so hit up Woolies, scare the shit out of the poor woolies employee, and ramble something along the lines of "gimmee a packo of dose orangee Pall Malls right over there love.." and she obeys.

Slims. Pall Mall Slims.

Initial reaction? "SEXAAAAY". Even Rachel, cigarette hater or at least detestee, says so. HOT.

The pack is "clearly targeted at females"... good on you the state of NSW, Eastgarden in fact, for your targetting of us vulnerable man-needing females. "honey i'm home" type shit.
Nice. Even Germain Greer has a vibrator in her top drawer. As if that feminist bitch can deny it. Don't even try. Listen to "Tomorrow never Knows"-Beatles , in reverse, and there's a snippet in there about how Greer wanks off over the thought of a man telling her to 'cook my dinner bitch' while bending over in a less-than-ass-covering apron and some sexy handcuffesque oven mits and a shitload of Taft hair spray holing her perm in place.

umm sooo...

orange does not push my buttons. at all. doesn't hit my G. doesnt make me "AWWWWWW MMMMMMmmmmmmmm hmmmm" .At all. But its resemblence to a pristine Brisbane sunset hits all the right notes. So plus 20 points for that.

'Slims' make me froth. The idea of slimness obviously sits very well with me. (no i didn't just swipe a weeks worth of Arnott's from the KT what are you talking about?) So i wont hold it against you baby.

The hit is sincerly honorable considering they physicalogically have so much less tabacco space to impress me with. Shits all over PJ silver. Marl silver even (though i havent even rated that. next project eh?) Kudos.

Before we get into rambling (what? me, rambling? sif)

• Attractiveness of Pack- Off. totally nice. unfortunately i was scarred with a vagina at birth, leaving me rather vulnerable to use 'pretty' as an adjective to describe..anything. The shrink wrap rivals Marls. Big commendation for that. BIG. BIG. Nothing to bitch about. As i said orange is weak but sunset 0rang puts a positive spin on it so i'll overlook this. 4 out of 5 malignant tumours.

• Burning Time- Not bad. as i have already stated, slim means small. small means less to offer. But even for a skinny bitch she puts out. Even though her last meal may have been a peanut 3 days ago, still a commendable amount of stamina. 4 out of 5 malignant tumours.

• Smoothness and Flavour- Enough to write home about. Impressive amount of flavour. Smooth enough to roll off my tongue. "sliding into a slut" type stuff. 3.5 out of 5 malignant tumours

• Lingering Taste- Still there. a fair few fresh-air breaths and savouring sips of Pure Blondes later, it still holds its ground. Commendable to say the least (cant believe how positive i am being with an 'inferior' product!) compared to let's say PJ or B&H it wins a meritable 3 out of 5 malignat tumours.

AVERAGE SCORE FOR PALL MALL SLIMS: Let's just say four because fuck, who's averaging these days?

In great conclusion, Pall Mall blew me away like a $1 peep show, or a skirt-rustling wind on a mild spring day.

Keep it up yes?

Till next time my fellow fiends. and as usual find me on FB to converse about the glory of slow-suicide-by-tabacco. Missy Chapple..

Follow me for the ultimate hit. aa.

Regarddddds,

Missaaaaay.

I AM A FAG V

Well, after neigh wins (get it? nay? no? 'neigh'? horse noise? oh shit let me just give myself a farking medal for that pun) on the Cup today, I find myself in serious need of umm a bit of exercise?fresh air?a long piece of noosed rope? um no believe it or not, a cigarette. wow. Right out of left field that one...

Let me set the scene-
TAB. Kenmore Tavern. Rozzle. Beside me nursing a $50.50 winning slip. Me. Suicidal. Deep within the blackhole-esque vortex of depression. Close to tears. In Debt to ANZ $40. Thinking "ok break the window and plunge a large sharp shard of glass into my heart? Barge myself head-first into the TAB counter? Make a mad dash and throw myself before the 444 on Moggill rd? Or the worse imaginable suicide ever-A grangus/mangus/fangus feast at McDonalds?"

But no. I fought off the intense urge to decapitate myself with my in-debted credit card and almost contained my disappointment.
"Rozzle I'm going for a fag"....and in my ear, a smug voice of a (thank god) stranger says "cigarettes are bad for you, you know?" Hardy ha ha. Just then my suicidal thoughts temporarily turned murderous. Once again, and self-kudos for this, I resisted. Powered on if you like.

Talk about rambling...
ANYHOW, the transition back onto topic- Benson and Hedges Smooth.

Now the Grates say 'lies are much more fun' but i'll be truthful- B&H smooths were my victims previous to the last two reviews. However i simply overlooked them. So i'll rate those brutes now.

Initially, i'm literally in awe at their packaging. Crisp. Pristine. Insert additional synonyms here. Simply put, they look pretty. Gold makes me feel glamorous, sought after, blessed with many a wonderful material posessions, like Rose Porteous and her mansionfull of shoes. errrrr. Gold makes me think of Goldfinger. Goldfinger makes me think Bond. Bond makes me think Daniel Craig. And it all gets very explicit from here on.

The shrink wrap is purely disasterous. Flimsy. The kind of thin plastic film that becomes static and sticks to you and makes you all too flustered really. The position of the pull tab is just gay. Though when you battle past this, you again are able to marvel at the pack. mmm.

Inside, the cigarettes take form. No complaints about the foil. Nothing commendable or unique about the design of the cigarettes themselves.
First drag-Not bad....my expectations were low. All the B&H smokers i've ever met are shallow, dimwitted, ugly, possibly ranga, cranky, have a bad vocabulary, have issues, smell odd, speak without charisma, dress like it's halloween 24/7, use the word "bullshit" to describe any phenomenon (positive or negative) , and finally, are unable to admit that they ARE lesser of a human being because they smoke B&H.

So with all that said, the cigarette left me feeling rather indifferent.
Now down to the scientific analysis-

• Attractiveness of Pack- Impressive. Like a big pile of reduced to clear goods at the local fruit shop. Like 185's on Colin's wheels. Like Dan Salami (umm NO not a typo). 4.5 malignant tumours out of 5.

• Burning Time- Average, if anything a little bit quick. And we all know that let-down feeling when things are over and down with a little bit too quickly.. hm... 2.5 out of 5 malignant tumours.

• Smoothness and Flavour- Shit all flavour. Too smooth. Packed with tabacco or shredded loose-leaf paper? 2.5 out of 5 malignant tumours.

• Lingering Taste- You say that as if there was a taste initially. nudda. nothing. zip. 1 out of 5 malignant tumours.

BENSON AND HEDGES AVERAGE SCORE : 2.625 (Nice clean number eh?) We can round it down to 2.5 really, i mean really. really.

Well that's it for another day. Since i'm $40 down as of 2pm today i might ease up on the cigarettes the next week.

'lol'. cracked a funny.

*insert shameless self-promotion here* If you like this shizz, let's chat. On FB- Missy Chapple.

Ta,

Missy.