Music

Day 21, bagged and tagged, mother fucker.

That's right, that's a week three is supposed to be in the lore of quitting smoking.

Week three is a lot of times what you're, you know, it's it takes 21 days to get that out of your system.

Everyone's a fucking doctor. Everyone's got mother's home remedies.

But yeah, 21 days is always since the first time I remember trying to quit smoking in 1990.

Four I'm guessing I remember it was right after the whole Bobby Barnett thing.

Because that was another girl I was in love with the perfectly good stuffed animals girl.

Christina Sparillini who's a midwife in Seattle now doesn't return my calls.

Wait, I don't have her number but my Facebook's.

She used to come out when we were in Seattle.

I remember we're going through a vintage suit phase at the time around there.

Underground or was that giggles?

You know, when we went out with her and her friend.

Yeah, right.

I don't remember anything about it other than they were ranking and I like I can't wait to get the fuck out of dinner because

you used to drink a little bit and then you stopped drinking at all and then you stopped smoking cigarettes and then I just was a fucking worthless piece of shit around you.

But you did make me funny.

I love you, Christine, but those days are over ever since you've spent years avoiding me.

I'm going to move on anyway.

I'm with my good friend Greg Chaley here in the funhouse full of fucking booze because I had to go out and I just keep buying all these accoutrements because we keep finding every recipe we find has one little thing.

Comparry.

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