Thanks, kid!
I started smoking to impress a cute girl back in the mid-80s. Just a smoke or two in the evenings, and next thing I know I was a broke, three-pack-a-day smoker.

What finally made me kick the habit was an event in April 1995. The cute girl, now known as Mrs. Yank, came from the doctor's office, said, "I'm pregnant." and handed me her pack. I quit a few months later, and I owe my daughter a big thanks.

I'd tried a dozen or more times to quit in the past. I tried electronic rationing gizmos, Cancer Society programs, setting a "quit date," eating sunflower seeds, smoking less, switching brands... Finally, I tried the gimmick of going cold turkey and still carrying around an open pack of cigarettes. I had to convince myself that I could have the forbidden cigarettes whenever I wanted, I just didn't want one.

After a month or so I was out drinking with friends. I caved in and had one. It scorched my throat, tasted like hell and about made me pass out. The magic was gone. I was an ex-smoker and have been for the last 13 years.
(Yank, Thu 18 Dec 2008, 21:28, Reply)