Oh dear.
About two years ago I was on my way to work when I slipped on a patch of ice, tearing my trousers asunder.

So that was the first time I Split-me-Kecks.
(Half of Stephen Fry's right buttock pissed on your dog on, Tue 25 Mar 2008, 17:13, Reply)

Guess the punchline…Guess the punchline…

I drank and drank the particular type of Blanco Suave whiskey until I had no alternative but to chunder all over the place…

And that was the first time I was ______________

10 points for the first correct answer...
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Tue 25 Mar 2008, 17:05, 6 replies)

Irresponsible parenting?
When I was a wee young kola, as many girls are, I was a pure daddy’s girl, I wanted to grow up to be just like him. (didn’t help my granddad regailled me with stories beginning “when I was a little girl…” leaving me a gender complex which arguable lasts to this day) and as many fathers do, my daddy smoked. Now cigarettes don’t taste nice, not to a four year olds pallet... at least that’s what my mother was banking on… and after a few attempts of trying to steal a puff. As subtly as a small child can master… my parent’s pretended to not see.

A clever trick I give you. I coughed and spat and I no longer wanted to smoke like daddy…

Fast-forward to some sort of celebratory event, a Christmas, or a paddy’s day or a new year, something of the sort. And the cigars come out. Again, as any self respecting inquisitive child would do… I wanted one.
Pleased with the success of their plan with the fags they repeated their tactics,
And I had a wee puff…

No coughing, no bad taste. I loved it.

Some weird looks were sent across the room with my dad in fits of hysterics, my mother trying to wrestle a cigar off me and myself quiet adamant that they said I could have one and I wasn’t giving it back
(kola, Tue 25 Mar 2008, 17:05, Reply)

Arse.
Once I smoked a cigarette - it was my first cigarette.

Oh.
(Half of Stephen Fry's right buttock pissed on your dog on, Tue 25 Mar 2008, 17:04, 1 reply)

One time
I smoked a tiny cigar.

It was my first cigarette
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Tue 25 Mar 2008, 17:00, Reply)

When I went to Holland
I got my first ever bout of diarrhoea. I went to a local doctor and he diagnosed me with my first zieke reet.
( mistaspakkaman and the inedible shifting caterpillars, Tue 25 Mar 2008, 16:58, Reply)

I had a threesome with
an ex-racing driver and a person with a debilitating illness.

That was my first ever Stig-(Lou)Garrett
(tiger blood and Adonis DNA, Tue 25 Mar 2008, 16:57, Reply)

Although not technically a cigarette
I once wee'd on my moms heater in her bedroom and had the nasty experience of inhaling all the fumes. I was 6 ish.Gawd nows how it didn't shock me.
Later on in life I smoked my first cigarette and realised there wasn't a hell of a lot of difference in taste.
(The Archduke of South London I'm in your Girlfriend eating her organs, Tue 25 Mar 2008, 16:52, Reply)

Mine's a fat one
Being a mover, shaker, and all round big wheel, I am usually to be found smoking one of Senor Castro's finest. The bigger the better.

However, I was in a bit of a rush recently and saved time by smoking a mini version of these. And that's how I came to smoke my first cigar -ette!

Oh hang on. Ahhhh, I see what they've done there. Clever, very clever.
(Hampton St.Roker (has probably had your mum), Tue 25 Mar 2008, 16:46, Reply)

*Grips furiously to bandwagon*
I was at a garden centre, looking at the "grow your own potatoes" and "grow your own onions" sections when I heard a voice accosting me "OI!,FACKINGIVUS50PEEEMISTERGISSAFAGGISSAGAG, OI!".

The voice came from a "grow your own" bin I had never seen the like of before, inside were large numbers of tiny women with peroxide blonde hair and far too much make up, wearing sportswear and massive hoop earings.

"Excuse me my good fellow" I enquired of one of the shop assistants, "what the devil do you do with these?"

"Well Sir." He replied, doffing his cap, "You plant them in the ground and they produce more of what they are, much like with potatoes and onions."

Intrigued I picked some out and purchased them. Upon getting to the checkout I realised I had just obtained my first seed chavette.
( Bazongaloid, Tue 25 Mar 2008, 16:46, Reply)

When I was a kid…
I had an imaginary animal park containing all the characters from Winnie The Pooh

But one of them was my favourite…

And that was my first Tigger-pet

EDIT:

*Notices it's only Tuesday*
*Apologises from heart of bottom*
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Tue 25 Mar 2008, 16:45, Reply)

I remember watching an advert to a BBC Nature documentary.
They were playing Hoppipolla as the soundtrack.

That was my first Sigur Rós
( __, Tue 25 Mar 2008, 16:43, Reply)

Wandering through…

A settlement in Cornwall I found a strange tramp living in the local dump…he seemed almost prehistoric.

Still, I was desperate at the time and decided to let him take my virginity.

And that was my first Stig-Allet
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Tue 25 Mar 2008, 16:39, Reply)

I once had a job driving a bulldozer.
One day, due to a momentary oversight on my part, I managed to drive it onto a football field and ended up in the goal.

Yes, that was certainly my first digger net.

Or what about the first time I played a full-size guitar as a kid? One might say it was a bigger fret.

I once had a cat who could weld. He was a MIGger pet.

I would tell you about the time I went to the horse racing with a black guy, but I think you can all predict the outcome.
(Half of Stephen Fry's right buttock pissed on your dog on, Tue 25 Mar 2008, 16:36, Reply)

Sees the bandwagon…and *jumps*

I wanted to build my own custom home – but what company could help me? And where in the world shall I build it?

I finally decided on the municipality in the district of Ostallgäu in Bavaria, Germany.

So that was where I had my first Seeg-Garrette

…

(Oh, look it up people)
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Tue 25 Mar 2008, 16:29, 1 reply)

I once dropped George's
Marvellous Medicine on a bounty hunter from the Star Wars universe.

Yes, I had my first bigger Fett.
(tiger blood and Adonis DNA, Tue 25 Mar 2008, 16:26, Reply)

My experiments in animal genetics.
In an attempt to produce ready made venison sausages, I cross bred male deer with long thin weaselly type creatures, eventually producing my first stag ferret.
( Bazongaloid, Tue 25 Mar 2008, 16:10, 1 reply)

ahem
Before my current job I lived as a tortured artist in Paris. I was delighted when I moved into an enormous room on the top floor of a house, typically under a pitched roof; an attic.

It was my first large loft space.
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Tue 25 Mar 2008, 16:01, 12 replies)

uncle Herbert
Owned a carpet warehouse and he often swore that carpet - taken orally - was the answer to most of the minor illnesses one suffers. A bit of Axminster for a cold; some wool twist for a fever; a silk rug for leukaemia, and shagpile for almost everything else.

When I had the shits, he gave me my first shag arret.
(frankspencer, Tue 25 Mar 2008, 15:51, Reply)

my first girlfriend was a lovely person,
but she was no oil painting. She had a slight 'hump', and she had this problem with one eye where it wouldn't look at what she was looking at, if that makes sense. She was a bit lacking in dress sense as well - she had an odd 'medieval peasant' thing going.

But as I say, she was a lovely person, and in fact I lost my virginity to her.

No matter how much experience I've had since then, I'll never forget my first Igor-ette.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Tue 25 Mar 2008, 15:45, 1 reply)

I've never smoked personally
well, not first hand anyway. Although I may as well have as I've had a few parties with family members whilst consuming other more dubious substances, which for some reason seem to turn the average smoker into an "uber smoker" who will easily consume a couple of packets of fags alone. Put one out, spark one up, blabber blabber blabber...

I've woke up the next after dreaming of eating the butts out of an ash tray, I wonder why!
( Firkinfedup last shat on your wife's tits at, Tue 25 Mar 2008, 15:29, Reply)

I used to
I used to love shouting random french instructions out of the car window at members of the Grange Hill cast if I passed them by. Once I saw George Christopher running down the hill too fast and I shouted:

"Zig! Arrêt!"
( I have run out of coke is a little sweaty, Tue 25 Mar 2008, 15:25, Reply)

I used to be a fag hag...
But I had to give it up. Gay men are sooooo addictive.
( girlinthehole, Tue 25 Mar 2008, 15:10, 1 reply)

bindun?
My granddad smoked unfiltered woodbines his whole life - 60 a day. He started when he was 3 and was still smoking them at the time of his death... at the age of 129! All this nonsense about cigarettes being bad for you - there's no proof! My uncle smoked 20 a day while he was in the womb, then he started work in a pub aged 4, smoking a pipe in addition to breathing in the fumes of a hundred other people. And he lived until he was 99, wining an Olympic gold for the 100-metres hurdles aged 78. He could hold his breath for 20 minutes and was strong as an ox. Great uncle Harold not only smoked, but was a laudanum addict and drank 4 bottles of spirits each day. He injected pharmaceutical nicotine into his aorta for breakfast and ate cholesterol sandwiches washed down with hydrogenated vegetable oil. And he lived until he was 4000 years old. But my grandmother took vitamins every day, drank blueberry smoothies and did at least 30 minutes of aerobic activity daily. She was a fitness instructor and climbed Everest with her arms and legs tied behind her back. And she DIED aged 34 because a plummeting pheasant landed on her head, breaking her neck. Enough of this fitness nonsense, I say! Any one of us could suffer a muscle spasm while pouring boiling water and gush the scalding liquid into our eyes or on our baby. While chopping onions, any one of us could suffer a psychotic episode and slaughter all of our extended family. Accidents happen, and inhaling toxins is the least of our day-to-day worries. My cousin Bob was killed when a splinter from a fencepost he was fixing turned out to have been dipped in cobra venom. He was dead in 30 seconds - whereas my brother-in-law Miroslav survived being mauled by a bear because he was smoking crack ...etc etc etc
(frankspencer, Tue 25 Mar 2008, 14:42, 3 replies)

Slightly off topic
I smoke, don't really enjoy it but can't be arsed stopping yet ( no kids etc.)
My theory on passive smoking is this:
Life Insurance.
It more expensive if you say you smoke, so people lie. Then get cancer and blame it on passive smoking.
(L.T. Smash Humungous fail since, Tue 25 Mar 2008, 14:41, 1 reply)

Damned Weed
I suppose you could say I was a late starter.

My little pink lungs were smoke vigins until I smoked my first joint when I was 17. I can't say I remember much of the experience as the Red Lebanese resin turned my young mind to mush for an hour or so.

For the first few weeks of my introduction to smoking spliffs, I just smoked spliffs ... nothing else. 3 or 4 spliffs over a weekend.

But then, as I suppose is the same for many, the nicotene monkey was on my back and I started buying and smoking regular cigarettes to tide me over during the week until I would have my weekend spliffs.

It started with a pack of 10 bensons on a monday morning, which would last at one or two a day until the weekend.

Then of course, that rapidly grew until within 6 months of my first spliff I was a regular 20 a day joe!.

I gave up smoking marijuana by the time I was in my early 20's, but the nicotene monkey was well and truely entrenched on my back and as a souvenier of my heady pot smoking teens, I had a 20-30 a day cigarette habit.

I thought nothing of it to be honest. I met and married my Wife, she did not smoke, so I restricted my habit to the basement.

Once we found that my Wife had fallen pregnant, I moved my smoking habit into the garden where it stayed for a few years.

Then came the fateful day!.

I was bathing my Daughter (now 4 years old) and she was playing with some foam letters that stick to the side of the bath. She picked up the letter "I" and put it in her mouth and said " look Daddy, I have a cigarette just like you".

I took her out of the bath, dried her off and sent her down to Mum, then threw my cigarettes in the bin, followed by lighters, ashtrays etc and had a little wobbly teary eyed moment.

I have not smoked since ... no patches, no gum no nothing ... just the memory of my dear little girl sat in the bath pretending to smoke "just like Daddy" is enough to keep me stopped!.

Almost a year since I quit, best thing I ever did.

I totalled up how much money I had spent over almost 25 years of smoking.

FUCK!
( RadG Drinking Mojitos in the sun, Tue 25 Mar 2008, 14:21, Reply)

I don't smoke, and I never have...
...but one night many years ago, I went out for the night with my friend Glen, for a few beers and games of pool.

For some reason whilst quite quite pissed, I smoked an entire packet of Glen's Marlboros. Apparently, I did indeed smoke them properly, every single one of them down to the butt, plenty of inhaling, etc...

The next day brought the worst hangover of my life, ever. The smell of cigarettes made me physically heave for weeks afterwards, and worst of all, on Monday morning when I saw Glen at work he made me buy him a new packet of fags to replace the ones I'd smoked.
(Professor Kenny Martin Hmm? What?, Tue 25 Mar 2008, 13:47, Reply)

I started whilst attending a private school in the west country.
There was little else to do inbetween latin prep and double calculus, so for a meagre sum, a packet of players could be purchased from the local stores by the boys of the upper school and one could spend a happy afternoon puffing away to ones hearts content behind the latin block.

One time a lorry containing a shipment of Marlboro jack-knifed outside the school drive and every boy in the school took advantage of a free hundred cancer sticks which were liberally smoked on school premises.

At that time it was like a very smokey version of Whiskey Galore as scores of boys gathered in the midst of thick clouds of fug and drew carcinogenic quantities of waste into their lungs. At one point there was a plume over the first year boarding block to rival Buncefield.
(Vic Flange, Tue 25 Mar 2008, 13:41, 1 reply)

i don't smoke
except when very pissed. I crave ciggies for their uplifting dizzying feeling.

But my ex... Christ. Chimney-tastic.

I think Kuwait must be the shittest place to live on earth; sharia law and all, aside. The most exciting thing for people to do is smoke.

She'd smoke a pack a day.

Have the cravings, the irritability.

Never really need to eat.

Berate me when i did.

Have to leave the cinema midway through the film.

Have to drag me out of pubs/clubs for ciggies.

Made my room smell like fetid ash.

Goddamn i'll never date a smoker again.
(Schumann makes awesome quiches., Tue 25 Mar 2008, 12:27, Reply)

Mmm... Tasty!
When I were but a mere whelp of a lad, my family used to holiday in Menorca.

I don't know if you can still get them, but in those days you could get chocolate cigarettes. They were little cylinders of chocolate wrapped in sugar paper, and even came in branded packs.

My chocarette of choice was a Marlboro Red (a choice that translated to my cigarette of choice as an adult), and I spent days lounging around the pool, chocorette hanging languidly from my lips, like some kind of really really crap James Dean.

So, my first cigarette was made of chocolate and I ate it. My first real cigarette experience was, er, different - but I've told it before anyway...
( Devil_In_Tights the *real* DiT!, Tue 25 Mar 2008, 12:11, 1 reply)