Your first cigarette
To be honest, inhaling the fumes from some burning leaves isn't the most natural thing in the world.
Tell us about the first time. Where, when, and who were you trying to show off to?
Or, if you've never tried a cigarette, tell us something interesting on the subject of smoking.
Personally, I've never ever smoked a cigarette. Lung damage from pneumonia put me off.
( , Wed 19 Mar 2008, 18:49)
To be honest, inhaling the fumes from some burning leaves isn't the most natural thing in the world.
Tell us about the first time. Where, when, and who were you trying to show off to?
Or, if you've never tried a cigarette, tell us something interesting on the subject of smoking.
Personally, I've never ever smoked a cigarette. Lung damage from pneumonia put me off.
( , Wed 19 Mar 2008, 18:49)
This question is now closed.
Also....
I'm not really a druggy person either..... my brain appears to be wired up differently to most. I had what I shall describe as "an experience" with marijuana that is really best forgotten, and vowed never to touch it again.... we ate it though so it doesn't fit the question.
However.
Years later, buoyed up by some vodka and convinced by my mate that my little "turn" had only been a one off, I gave some smashing top grade grass a go, through my mates lovely big bong.
After all, I was a man of the world now wasn't I? Hahaha. Oh yes. I could handle some insignificant puffs on a grass pipe, no sweat. Wait..... there is a little sweat.
And now my mouth has gone dry. I need a drink. I NEED A DRINK! Wait. Someones talking to me...... I better reply...... fuck, I can hear my own voice echoing in my head.....
Yes, I was absolutely stoned out of my tiny mind. The taxi ride into the club we were going to was a nightmare. The whole way there was disjointed.... I couldn't get my bearings at all. My mates were passing round a bottle of booze... I couldn't get the lid off, and this became THE MOST IMPORTANT THING IN THE WORLD TO ME! I HAD to get that lid off or we would all be arrested! Then, somehow, I was in the club. I found the toilet and sat there for what seemed like hours but was in fact about a minute.... back in my seat at the bar, conscience screaming at me that we're all gonna be thrown out at any second, just act normal just act normal, they're all laughing, they know THEY KNOW!
Then suddenly, it was like someone turned the volume up in the club. I could focus on people and was able to hold a conversation again, felt totally normal in the blink of an eye. I started apologising for behaving so badly, but everyone was baffled.... apparently, I had been completely normal the whole time, quietly sipping away at my drink. Bit quiet, that was all anyone noticed.
For 3 days afterwards, I couldn't focus properly or concentrate on anything. Three whole days.
My brain is not wired up the same way as most people's, as I said.
Vodka will do me fine from now on thanks. :)
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 18:27, 2 replies)
I'm not really a druggy person either..... my brain appears to be wired up differently to most. I had what I shall describe as "an experience" with marijuana that is really best forgotten, and vowed never to touch it again.... we ate it though so it doesn't fit the question.
However.
Years later, buoyed up by some vodka and convinced by my mate that my little "turn" had only been a one off, I gave some smashing top grade grass a go, through my mates lovely big bong.
After all, I was a man of the world now wasn't I? Hahaha. Oh yes. I could handle some insignificant puffs on a grass pipe, no sweat. Wait..... there is a little sweat.
And now my mouth has gone dry. I need a drink. I NEED A DRINK! Wait. Someones talking to me...... I better reply...... fuck, I can hear my own voice echoing in my head.....
Yes, I was absolutely stoned out of my tiny mind. The taxi ride into the club we were going to was a nightmare. The whole way there was disjointed.... I couldn't get my bearings at all. My mates were passing round a bottle of booze... I couldn't get the lid off, and this became THE MOST IMPORTANT THING IN THE WORLD TO ME! I HAD to get that lid off or we would all be arrested! Then, somehow, I was in the club. I found the toilet and sat there for what seemed like hours but was in fact about a minute.... back in my seat at the bar, conscience screaming at me that we're all gonna be thrown out at any second, just act normal just act normal, they're all laughing, they know THEY KNOW!
Then suddenly, it was like someone turned the volume up in the club. I could focus on people and was able to hold a conversation again, felt totally normal in the blink of an eye. I started apologising for behaving so badly, but everyone was baffled.... apparently, I had been completely normal the whole time, quietly sipping away at my drink. Bit quiet, that was all anyone noticed.
For 3 days afterwards, I couldn't focus properly or concentrate on anything. Three whole days.
My brain is not wired up the same way as most people's, as I said.
Vodka will do me fine from now on thanks. :)
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 18:27, 2 replies)
An older neighbour...
...convinced me it would be a great idea if I, at the age of 7 or 8, stole a packet of 20 Red Band from my mothers handbag and would meet up with him a while after.
So ofcourse being the guliable cunt I seem to be, I did. I forgot about them for a few hours and kept them in my bag, the very same friend invited me to go swimming with him that very afternoon.
Off we totted to the local pool, started changing to go swimming and came upon the stolen fags. We smoked all 20 of them, in the changing rooms. Turning green and coughing like a miner as we did so.
Eventually all 20 had gone and we got into the pool feeling a little worse for wear. After a good 10 minutes, I had a coughing fit in the pool, followed by a 5 minute spout of projectile vomitting. Running back into the changing room in shame after turning the pool a bile yellow, I slip and fall and break my ankle.
To make matters worse after getting back from the hospital my mum decided being in a cast for 8 weeks wasn't punishment enough for stealing her fags, and forced me to smoke another 20.
Ouch.
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 18:25, Reply)
...convinced me it would be a great idea if I, at the age of 7 or 8, stole a packet of 20 Red Band from my mothers handbag and would meet up with him a while after.
So ofcourse being the guliable cunt I seem to be, I did. I forgot about them for a few hours and kept them in my bag, the very same friend invited me to go swimming with him that very afternoon.
Off we totted to the local pool, started changing to go swimming and came upon the stolen fags. We smoked all 20 of them, in the changing rooms. Turning green and coughing like a miner as we did so.
Eventually all 20 had gone and we got into the pool feeling a little worse for wear. After a good 10 minutes, I had a coughing fit in the pool, followed by a 5 minute spout of projectile vomitting. Running back into the changing room in shame after turning the pool a bile yellow, I slip and fall and break my ankle.
To make matters worse after getting back from the hospital my mum decided being in a cast for 8 weeks wasn't punishment enough for stealing her fags, and forced me to smoke another 20.
Ouch.
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 18:25, Reply)
I have never smoked.
Never. It's just not something I've ever been into. I'm not a rabid anti smoking nazi or anything, in fact when they brought the smoking ban in up here in Scotland, I thought it was pretty much unworkable and a bit unfair on those who smoked.... it IS nice to have a quiet drink without hacking my lungs up now, but more often than not I either find myself sitting on my own while my mates have a crafty fag outside, or more usually standing in the pissing rain having a chat with the smokers in the smoking area.
It does, however, raise a question. Since I am not a smoker, have never been a smoker, and am incapable of breathing smoke without coughing great grebs of phlegm over everyone, why then are there so many photographs of me smoking lots of lovely big fags whenever I'm drunk?
The answer has dawned on me recently. My mates are cunts. They make me smoke their fags and take pictures of me. Next time they do it, I'm soaking their filter in lots of gooey man-spittles.
I have had the odd cigar though, but who hasn't?
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 18:14, Reply)
Never. It's just not something I've ever been into. I'm not a rabid anti smoking nazi or anything, in fact when they brought the smoking ban in up here in Scotland, I thought it was pretty much unworkable and a bit unfair on those who smoked.... it IS nice to have a quiet drink without hacking my lungs up now, but more often than not I either find myself sitting on my own while my mates have a crafty fag outside, or more usually standing in the pissing rain having a chat with the smokers in the smoking area.
It does, however, raise a question. Since I am not a smoker, have never been a smoker, and am incapable of breathing smoke without coughing great grebs of phlegm over everyone, why then are there so many photographs of me smoking lots of lovely big fags whenever I'm drunk?
The answer has dawned on me recently. My mates are cunts. They make me smoke their fags and take pictures of me. Next time they do it, I'm soaking their filter in lots of gooey man-spittles.
I have had the odd cigar though, but who hasn't?
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 18:14, Reply)
I was 16, I believe...
on study leave and wandering the streets of Newcastle in a few hours' break with a couple of friends. We'd already been to Costa Coffee, as ever, laughed at a man in a kilt (the coffee stains were still on the window frames when it closed, some months later) and were prowling the record shops.
And there it was, outside Steel Wheels, lying on the ground, a whole, unsmoked fag. I was dared to take it, but none of us had a lighter, and in school uniform, we wouldn't get served, would we? It went into my blazer pocket with promises that it would get smoked, no, I wouldn't pansy out.
At home, it was shoved in a drawer and forgotten about.
I don't know how many days/weeks/months passed, but I was alone in the house and rifling through my drawers (minds OUT of the gutter), when it fell into my hand. I'd stolen a lighter off my sister, and since I was in the house alone, well, why not smoke it now? But where? I didn't want the house smelling of smoke when my parents came in.
I knew it! My brother's bedroom! He was at uni at that point, so nobody would go in there, and there was a massive sash window that I could open fully and lean out of to smoke it.
So I did. And once I'd finished, flinging the end right across the back yard, into the back lane, I felt...no different. I didn't feel relaxed, or get any rush people talked about. What was the point of that?
'Were you actually inhaling?'
'Yeah.' No.
Also, smoking a pen casing filled with paper, lit off a bunsen burner, is pointless. What else was there to do in physics lessons when the heating had failed and the teacher had done her usual trick of pretending to set us work then pissing off for the rest of the lesson?
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 18:08, Reply)
on study leave and wandering the streets of Newcastle in a few hours' break with a couple of friends. We'd already been to Costa Coffee, as ever, laughed at a man in a kilt (the coffee stains were still on the window frames when it closed, some months later) and were prowling the record shops.
And there it was, outside Steel Wheels, lying on the ground, a whole, unsmoked fag. I was dared to take it, but none of us had a lighter, and in school uniform, we wouldn't get served, would we? It went into my blazer pocket with promises that it would get smoked, no, I wouldn't pansy out.
At home, it was shoved in a drawer and forgotten about.
I don't know how many days/weeks/months passed, but I was alone in the house and rifling through my drawers (minds OUT of the gutter), when it fell into my hand. I'd stolen a lighter off my sister, and since I was in the house alone, well, why not smoke it now? But where? I didn't want the house smelling of smoke when my parents came in.
I knew it! My brother's bedroom! He was at uni at that point, so nobody would go in there, and there was a massive sash window that I could open fully and lean out of to smoke it.
So I did. And once I'd finished, flinging the end right across the back yard, into the back lane, I felt...no different. I didn't feel relaxed, or get any rush people talked about. What was the point of that?
'Were you actually inhaling?'
'Yeah.' No.
Also, smoking a pen casing filled with paper, lit off a bunsen burner, is pointless. What else was there to do in physics lessons when the heating had failed and the teacher had done her usual trick of pretending to set us work then pissing off for the rest of the lesson?
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 18:08, Reply)
They told me it would be cool.
All my mates said I'd be cool if i took a few long drags.
Years later i found out that cigarettes aren't pink,
Or leak white liquid.
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 17:22, Reply)
All my mates said I'd be cool if i took a few long drags.
Years later i found out that cigarettes aren't pink,
Or leak white liquid.
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 17:22, Reply)
Can I have a history lesson please....
Who started all this smoking shit anyway - who do we point the finger of blame at? Sir Walter Raleigh or whoever he got the idea from. Who the fuck do I castigate?
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 17:08, 9 replies)
Who started all this smoking shit anyway - who do we point the finger of blame at? Sir Walter Raleigh or whoever he got the idea from. Who the fuck do I castigate?
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 17:08, 9 replies)
Probably bindun...
... but I might well have to take up smoking as I feel a slow death from lung cancer is preferable to the horrendous QOTWs some cunt is coming up with recently.
Christ.
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 16:40, 4 replies)
... but I might well have to take up smoking as I feel a slow death from lung cancer is preferable to the horrendous QOTWs some cunt is coming up with recently.
Christ.
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 16:40, 4 replies)
Smoke bubbles!
I don't actually smoke but I still have an interesting fact to tell! If you get a tub of bubble solution (the stuff kids use) and try blowing a bubble just after taking a drag, the bubble will fill up with the smoke! This causes it to float off in a mass of swirly, toxic shimmeryness. It is the most beautiful sight ever! ^_^ Until it pops and someone a few yards away gets a face full of fag :P
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 16:28, 3 replies)
I don't actually smoke but I still have an interesting fact to tell! If you get a tub of bubble solution (the stuff kids use) and try blowing a bubble just after taking a drag, the bubble will fill up with the smoke! This causes it to float off in a mass of swirly, toxic shimmeryness. It is the most beautiful sight ever! ^_^ Until it pops and someone a few yards away gets a face full of fag :P
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 16:28, 3 replies)
Berkley Superkings
Is it just me or do they taste exactly like whelks?
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 15:19, 1 reply)
Is it just me or do they taste exactly like whelks?
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 15:19, 1 reply)
The start of the affair, and hopefully the end too
Had my first one at 13, Consulate menthol fags that I've since found are excellent when rolled with 'ahem' other materials.
A bunch of kids would go down to the river and smoke and I joined in, partly because I was curious and partly to avoid the traditional mid-afternoon kicking from my hateful stepbrother.
After a couple of tries I got the hang of inhaling and got the nicotine hit. Fantastic stuff, vision and legs going and a massive headrush. I've been hooked ever since.
25 years on and I'm giving the little buggers up in a few weeks. I've managed to stop for a week or so at a time and always come back to them but have come up with a cunning plan.
I'm moving to California, where asking to smoke is a faux pas equivalent to asking if you could pop upstairs for a quick one with your host's daughter. Hopefully a year in a state where smoking is social death should do it.
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 15:18, 3 replies)
Had my first one at 13, Consulate menthol fags that I've since found are excellent when rolled with 'ahem' other materials.
A bunch of kids would go down to the river and smoke and I joined in, partly because I was curious and partly to avoid the traditional mid-afternoon kicking from my hateful stepbrother.
After a couple of tries I got the hang of inhaling and got the nicotine hit. Fantastic stuff, vision and legs going and a massive headrush. I've been hooked ever since.
25 years on and I'm giving the little buggers up in a few weeks. I've managed to stop for a week or so at a time and always come back to them but have come up with a cunning plan.
I'm moving to California, where asking to smoke is a faux pas equivalent to asking if you could pop upstairs for a quick one with your host's daughter. Hopefully a year in a state where smoking is social death should do it.
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 15:18, 3 replies)
Of ex-wives and cannabis
About, ooh, 19 years ago, I had just started seeing the ex. Now, her friend Nicky's parents owned a luxury caravan on a site just outside my home town, and every so often Nicky, the ex, and another mate, Kim, would pile into an ancient green mini and spend the weekend in the caravan.
One afternoon, whilst I was still doing my Saturday job in a kitchen, the three of them sauntered into the courtyard - none of them knew that I worked there, and I certainly hadn't realised they were planning on coming up. A last minute decision by all accounts. So, I got a 10 minute break, grabbed a drink and went to join them outside. That night, we all agreed to meet up in town, make a night of it, and I would go back to the caravan.
So that's what happened. Except that Kim didn't come back to the caravan, having instead attached herself to one of the local hippies, Bill - nice bloke. And off she went. This experience changed Kim somewhat as she was introduced to the joys of smoking, erm, non-tobacco products. She resurfaced the next day looking a bit dishevelled, but having obviously had a good time of it.
And so, over the next few summer months, this would be a regular occurence - they would troop up to the caravan, and sometimes they'd come into town for the night, or sometimes I would catch the bus after work and meet them at the caravan.
I've already alluded in a previous post that my ex doesn't smoke, and is / was a bit of a health junkie. However, I lied a bit there. It's true that she had never touched a cigarette, but, Kim's experiences had left the three of them feeling a tad more relaxed on the subject of illicit substances. I had myself dabbled a little by that time (only weed, never anything else), but I was a little surprised when, on arriving at the caravan to be greeted by the scent of something very powerful, and the sight of my ex draped across the couch with the combined look of a slightly bemused puppy and a grin resembling Jack Nicholson in Batman on her face, whilst her mates pointed at me and then spontaneously pissed themselves laughing.
One look in the kitchen sink told me all I needed to know. A plastic bottle with the end cut away, a lighter, and two blackened knives on the draining board. In amongst the giggles from all three, I managed to ascertain that they'd got to the caravan at about 3pm, and had proceeded to spend the rest of the afternoon hot-knifing some particularly powerful resin.
I did what any self respecting boyfriend would do in a situation like that - I made them all a coffee, then when the giggles had subsided I got them to hold the knives in place while I had a go...
Like, whoa.
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 14:28, Reply)
About, ooh, 19 years ago, I had just started seeing the ex. Now, her friend Nicky's parents owned a luxury caravan on a site just outside my home town, and every so often Nicky, the ex, and another mate, Kim, would pile into an ancient green mini and spend the weekend in the caravan.
One afternoon, whilst I was still doing my Saturday job in a kitchen, the three of them sauntered into the courtyard - none of them knew that I worked there, and I certainly hadn't realised they were planning on coming up. A last minute decision by all accounts. So, I got a 10 minute break, grabbed a drink and went to join them outside. That night, we all agreed to meet up in town, make a night of it, and I would go back to the caravan.
So that's what happened. Except that Kim didn't come back to the caravan, having instead attached herself to one of the local hippies, Bill - nice bloke. And off she went. This experience changed Kim somewhat as she was introduced to the joys of smoking, erm, non-tobacco products. She resurfaced the next day looking a bit dishevelled, but having obviously had a good time of it.
And so, over the next few summer months, this would be a regular occurence - they would troop up to the caravan, and sometimes they'd come into town for the night, or sometimes I would catch the bus after work and meet them at the caravan.
I've already alluded in a previous post that my ex doesn't smoke, and is / was a bit of a health junkie. However, I lied a bit there. It's true that she had never touched a cigarette, but, Kim's experiences had left the three of them feeling a tad more relaxed on the subject of illicit substances. I had myself dabbled a little by that time (only weed, never anything else), but I was a little surprised when, on arriving at the caravan to be greeted by the scent of something very powerful, and the sight of my ex draped across the couch with the combined look of a slightly bemused puppy and a grin resembling Jack Nicholson in Batman on her face, whilst her mates pointed at me and then spontaneously pissed themselves laughing.
One look in the kitchen sink told me all I needed to know. A plastic bottle with the end cut away, a lighter, and two blackened knives on the draining board. In amongst the giggles from all three, I managed to ascertain that they'd got to the caravan at about 3pm, and had proceeded to spend the rest of the afternoon hot-knifing some particularly powerful resin.
I did what any self respecting boyfriend would do in a situation like that - I made them all a coffee, then when the giggles had subsided I got them to hold the knives in place while I had a go...
Like, whoa.
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 14:28, Reply)
I think i must have been about 9 or 10
Down in some bushes with the older kids when they were having their first cigarette too. I hated it and i think i near enough shit my pants that i'd get caught or one of them would tell my mum, i'm sure they thought i was cool for a bit though. Looking back, what a bunch of wankers they must have been.
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 13:52, Reply)
Down in some bushes with the older kids when they were having their first cigarette too. I hated it and i think i near enough shit my pants that i'd get caught or one of them would tell my mum, i'm sure they thought i was cool for a bit though. Looking back, what a bunch of wankers they must have been.
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 13:52, Reply)
aged thirteen
watching The Mask.
mum walked in, shocked, and asked what I was doing, to which I replied :
'SAAA-MOKIN!'
sorry about this.
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 12:38, Reply)
watching The Mask.
mum walked in, shocked, and asked what I was doing, to which I replied :
'SAAA-MOKIN!'
sorry about this.
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 12:38, Reply)
The Impressionable Youth
I buckled under the peer pressure and tried my first cigarette at the age of 12, in some bushes at the end of the school field.
Back then you never actually inhaled,just took pathetic little puffs, and three of us could make a pack of ten last a week.
However my first herbal experience was far more eventful.
I was suitably drunk anyway so when a friend pulled up outside the pub with a bag of skunk I was in no position to refuse.
Not realising it's potency I lugged away on the joint as though my life depended on it, no problem think I, just like an aromatic cigarette right?
For the entire car journey back to my mate's house I was practically becoming the back seat, and had turned an interesting shade of grey.
The rest of the evening was either spent decorating the toilet bowl with the former contents of my stomach, or glued on my back to the armchair, with a glass of water in one hand, and a half chewed Wrigley's in the other.
Hands up who thinks this week's QOTW is a big steaming pile of turd..
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 12:00, Reply)
I buckled under the peer pressure and tried my first cigarette at the age of 12, in some bushes at the end of the school field.
Back then you never actually inhaled,just took pathetic little puffs, and three of us could make a pack of ten last a week.
However my first herbal experience was far more eventful.
I was suitably drunk anyway so when a friend pulled up outside the pub with a bag of skunk I was in no position to refuse.
Not realising it's potency I lugged away on the joint as though my life depended on it, no problem think I, just like an aromatic cigarette right?
For the entire car journey back to my mate's house I was practically becoming the back seat, and had turned an interesting shade of grey.
The rest of the evening was either spent decorating the toilet bowl with the former contents of my stomach, or glued on my back to the armchair, with a glass of water in one hand, and a half chewed Wrigley's in the other.
Hands up who thinks this week's QOTW is a big steaming pile of turd..
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 12:00, Reply)
pretend cig butts
When my Grandmother (R.I.P) was 40-56
she smoked and I was and am against smoking, I still grabbed the gone smoked cig butts and pretended I was Smoking, But hey I was cute and I never really did it. I also pretended
that sticks were cigs too and play smoke them. Now all together now Group AWWWWWWWWWWW.
Also as much as I hate smoking I just love the smell of it.
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 9:00, Reply)
When my Grandmother (R.I.P) was 40-56
she smoked and I was and am against smoking, I still grabbed the gone smoked cig butts and pretended I was Smoking, But hey I was cute and I never really did it. I also pretended
that sticks were cigs too and play smoke them. Now all together now Group AWWWWWWWWWWW.
Also as much as I hate smoking I just love the smell of it.
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 9:00, Reply)
does it count
inhaling so much 2nd hand smoke you cant
tell whats fresh air or not?
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 8:05, Reply)
inhaling so much 2nd hand smoke you cant
tell whats fresh air or not?
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 8:05, Reply)
i was born with bronchitis...
and coughed my way through childhood.
despite this, i took first puff on a ciggie at age 14. we were visiting my grandmother and my aunt was having a nap on the couch so my sisters and i decided to nick a few of her cigarettes and went down to the park under the bridge to smoke them. it was pretty disgusting but i was hooked.
for the first year, i never really inhaled the smoke all the way into my lungs but when i did it the first time, the nicotine rush was amazing. in my first job (data entry clerk) there were 25 girls all in a big room and at least 23 of us smoked - the non-smokers had to just suck up all our lovely 2nd hand smoke.
even with the bronchitis i smoked about 2 packs a day for most of my smoking years. my doctor used to tell me i would be a respiratory cripple by the time i was 30 if i kept smoking. hahahah! the bronchitis just disappeared when i was 29 and i gave the fags up in 1992 at the age of 31.
16 years later, the smell of a match being struck makes my more primitive brain cells cry out for nicotine. i have become the stereotypical reformed smoker who thinks the habit is disgusting and badger my smoking friends to give it up.
sadly, i sometimes smoke when i drink too much. the last time i indulged was 3 weeks ago - just a few puffs and some serious passive smoking due to being in a very smoky bar. i guess the joke was on me - i ended up with a rather nasty case of bronchitis that had me on the brink of pneumonia and required a week off work...
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 5:40, Reply)
and coughed my way through childhood.
despite this, i took first puff on a ciggie at age 14. we were visiting my grandmother and my aunt was having a nap on the couch so my sisters and i decided to nick a few of her cigarettes and went down to the park under the bridge to smoke them. it was pretty disgusting but i was hooked.
for the first year, i never really inhaled the smoke all the way into my lungs but when i did it the first time, the nicotine rush was amazing. in my first job (data entry clerk) there were 25 girls all in a big room and at least 23 of us smoked - the non-smokers had to just suck up all our lovely 2nd hand smoke.
even with the bronchitis i smoked about 2 packs a day for most of my smoking years. my doctor used to tell me i would be a respiratory cripple by the time i was 30 if i kept smoking. hahahah! the bronchitis just disappeared when i was 29 and i gave the fags up in 1992 at the age of 31.
16 years later, the smell of a match being struck makes my more primitive brain cells cry out for nicotine. i have become the stereotypical reformed smoker who thinks the habit is disgusting and badger my smoking friends to give it up.
sadly, i sometimes smoke when i drink too much. the last time i indulged was 3 weeks ago - just a few puffs and some serious passive smoking due to being in a very smoky bar. i guess the joke was on me - i ended up with a rather nasty case of bronchitis that had me on the brink of pneumonia and required a week off work...
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 5:40, Reply)
I was completley wasted
SO drunk that I couldn't stand. In the one night, I'd had 4 different types of rum, a cider, a Guiness (I was that wreked that I downed the thing. I HATE beer, lager & ale) and 16 double shots of Amaretto.
I was celebrating my friend being on shore leave and you know what the navy types are like.
So we come to leave and I can't stand. My friends cary me a few miles home. I remember almost none of this, except demanding I be put down for a slash.
Not too long before we get to my house, they realised that if I didn't sober up, they would have to wake my mum. Now, my mum is a very scary person and no-one wanted to wake her. I was way too pissed to get into my house.
My friend decided it would be best if I were to be sick. Now, when I can move, I will never force myself to be sick, I'd rather take the hangover the next day.
So I am handed a cigarette. They thought it would make me vomit. I gathered what their plan was even though I was blootered, because they had been trying to get me to make myself sick for a while.
I inhaled the smoke. I don't think you're meant to do that. They woke up my mum she was cross and I started vomiting in the sink with the water running for me to drink and the plug in. My mum had to put her hand in the sick-water and remove the plug to prevent it from overflowing.
I had a massive hangover the next day and did not leave bed. I swear I could smell the cigarette for days. Horrible.
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 3:38, Reply)
SO drunk that I couldn't stand. In the one night, I'd had 4 different types of rum, a cider, a Guiness (I was that wreked that I downed the thing. I HATE beer, lager & ale) and 16 double shots of Amaretto.
I was celebrating my friend being on shore leave and you know what the navy types are like.
So we come to leave and I can't stand. My friends cary me a few miles home. I remember almost none of this, except demanding I be put down for a slash.
Not too long before we get to my house, they realised that if I didn't sober up, they would have to wake my mum. Now, my mum is a very scary person and no-one wanted to wake her. I was way too pissed to get into my house.
My friend decided it would be best if I were to be sick. Now, when I can move, I will never force myself to be sick, I'd rather take the hangover the next day.
So I am handed a cigarette. They thought it would make me vomit. I gathered what their plan was even though I was blootered, because they had been trying to get me to make myself sick for a while.
I inhaled the smoke. I don't think you're meant to do that. They woke up my mum she was cross and I started vomiting in the sink with the water running for me to drink and the plug in. My mum had to put her hand in the sick-water and remove the plug to prevent it from overflowing.
I had a massive hangover the next day and did not leave bed. I swear I could smell the cigarette for days. Horrible.
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 3:38, Reply)
Mine was in Israel.
On a beach near where my cousin then lived. I was 11 and anti-smoking, but she was 16, had pink hair and was cool. She still took the time to fish, catch crabs with little cuz and offered me tokes on her marlboro lights.
I coughed, spluttered and went back to London even more anti-smoking than I was when I left.
Five years later and I go back for her brother's wedding. She met me at the airport, I produced my pouch of golden virginia and we went outside to smoke. Rolling papers were a rare commodity it Israel, as they may have led to the naughty marijuana smoking, so my cousin had never had a roll-up.
Oh, such crazy times. My hair may have been longer than hers, but it wasn't pink, otherwise the circle would have been perfectly completed. My cousin coughed and spluttered on her first toke, just like I did.
I don't smoke now, not cigarettes. Nasty things.
I know, I know. We weren't on a beach either, we were in the airport. I said that earlier.
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 2:27, Reply)
On a beach near where my cousin then lived. I was 11 and anti-smoking, but she was 16, had pink hair and was cool. She still took the time to fish, catch crabs with little cuz and offered me tokes on her marlboro lights.
I coughed, spluttered and went back to London even more anti-smoking than I was when I left.
Five years later and I go back for her brother's wedding. She met me at the airport, I produced my pouch of golden virginia and we went outside to smoke. Rolling papers were a rare commodity it Israel, as they may have led to the naughty marijuana smoking, so my cousin had never had a roll-up.
Oh, such crazy times. My hair may have been longer than hers, but it wasn't pink, otherwise the circle would have been perfectly completed. My cousin coughed and spluttered on her first toke, just like I did.
I don't smoke now, not cigarettes. Nasty things.
I know, I know. We weren't on a beach either, we were in the airport. I said that earlier.
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 2:27, Reply)
It's not a fag
But I once breathed in loads of smoke from an incense stick.
It was painful.
And I enjoy lighting bits of paper, then putting them out in my mouth. It's a fun thing to do in chemistry practicals and tastes quite nice.
I've only burnt the roof of my mouth once or so.
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 1:37, Reply)
But I once breathed in loads of smoke from an incense stick.
It was painful.
And I enjoy lighting bits of paper, then putting them out in my mouth. It's a fun thing to do in chemistry practicals and tastes quite nice.
I've only burnt the roof of my mouth once or so.
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 1:37, Reply)
Well...
I first started when i took ecstasy as all the cool older boys said it felt good.
Then everytime me and my friends took pills they used to become a necessity. Richmond superkings cos they lasted ages and you couldnt taste them while high
Then my first one that was sober(ish) was when we were tramping out. We'd finished all the weed and I thought "don't smoke them while sober, should have some effect"
Edit - All this talk about smoking has made me get one now. i was going a week without one. bastards =p
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 1:23, Reply)
I first started when i took ecstasy as all the cool older boys said it felt good.
Then everytime me and my friends took pills they used to become a necessity. Richmond superkings cos they lasted ages and you couldnt taste them while high
Then my first one that was sober(ish) was when we were tramping out. We'd finished all the weed and I thought "don't smoke them while sober, should have some effect"
Edit - All this talk about smoking has made me get one now. i was going a week without one. bastards =p
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 1:23, Reply)
My first actual cigarette? Well, it's not something I've told anyone but
My first, my very first I had right after I lost my virginity.
I can remember so many things about it, the damp sheets and the musty smell of sex that hung in the air like some kind of sweet fog which almost overcame me.
I lay there just thinking about the feel of a womans thighs rubbing against my legs, about taking someone's knickers off for the first time, the feel of someone's tongue and lips on my twitching knob, about all those things your mind is filled with after your first time. And whilst she stroked me playfully I started to feel a bit weird about it all, but it was only when my mum asked if I wanted a fag that the spell was broken, I realised I probably did want one, I can just remember croaking 'yes please'. - I finished the rest of the packet the very same day.
This is how I became hooked.
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 1:06, Reply)
My first, my very first I had right after I lost my virginity.
I can remember so many things about it, the damp sheets and the musty smell of sex that hung in the air like some kind of sweet fog which almost overcame me.
I lay there just thinking about the feel of a womans thighs rubbing against my legs, about taking someone's knickers off for the first time, the feel of someone's tongue and lips on my twitching knob, about all those things your mind is filled with after your first time. And whilst she stroked me playfully I started to feel a bit weird about it all, but it was only when my mum asked if I wanted a fag that the spell was broken, I realised I probably did want one, I can just remember croaking 'yes please'. - I finished the rest of the packet the very same day.
This is how I became hooked.
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 1:06, Reply)
Ooo
This one hurt - not my first, but not nice.
One evening, I was at some random club in Grantham - Ok, I'm sorry I was even there, but I went to college there so I had to go out there a few times.....
I was out with my classmates and we'd met up beforehand for a pre night-out drink. Well, it was cider in the carpark, but I was 17...
Anyway, I drank the cider and felt ill, very quickly - I think I threw up, but I carried on like the trooper I am.
This **is** a smoking story BTW.
In the club, I was handed a rollup - I didn't think anything of it, but the nicotine rush entered my mind and I carried on. However, I did not feel well all night and I ended up throwing up down the side of a friend's car and being "talked to" by a passing police car.
A few days later, I'm just getting over it - and I mean 3 days later, not metaphorically.
I found out a couple of weeks later that my drink had been spiked with gin, vodka and bacardi (I hate cider so I held my breath while I was drinking it anyway).
I then found out that I had been smoking, not a plain cigarette as I had been told it was, but a joint. A heavily loaded joint at that.. I wasn't happy to say the least as my friends (former friends) knew that I didn't smoke and didn't want to, but knew of my stance on drugs (anti, specifically).
The point of this long and rambling story? I smoked when I didn't want to and it was a joint when I don't, by choice, do drugs.
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 0:34, 2 replies)
This one hurt - not my first, but not nice.
One evening, I was at some random club in Grantham - Ok, I'm sorry I was even there, but I went to college there so I had to go out there a few times.....
I was out with my classmates and we'd met up beforehand for a pre night-out drink. Well, it was cider in the carpark, but I was 17...
Anyway, I drank the cider and felt ill, very quickly - I think I threw up, but I carried on like the trooper I am.
This **is** a smoking story BTW.
In the club, I was handed a rollup - I didn't think anything of it, but the nicotine rush entered my mind and I carried on. However, I did not feel well all night and I ended up throwing up down the side of a friend's car and being "talked to" by a passing police car.
A few days later, I'm just getting over it - and I mean 3 days later, not metaphorically.
I found out a couple of weeks later that my drink had been spiked with gin, vodka and bacardi (I hate cider so I held my breath while I was drinking it anyway).
I then found out that I had been smoking, not a plain cigarette as I had been told it was, but a joint. A heavily loaded joint at that.. I wasn't happy to say the least as my friends (former friends) knew that I didn't smoke and didn't want to, but knew of my stance on drugs (anti, specifically).
The point of this long and rambling story? I smoked when I didn't want to and it was a joint when I don't, by choice, do drugs.
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 0:34, 2 replies)
Tea bag fag
No not a sexual reference!
When I was about ten my friends and I used to roll up tea bags in paper sellotape it together and plunge the make shift tab with cotton wool for a filter and smoke them, it tasted awful. It became quite an obsession we even took to colouring the butt end in with yellow felt tip.
Sad but true.
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 0:00, 1 reply)
No not a sexual reference!
When I was about ten my friends and I used to roll up tea bags in paper sellotape it together and plunge the make shift tab with cotton wool for a filter and smoke them, it tasted awful. It became quite an obsession we even took to colouring the butt end in with yellow felt tip.
Sad but true.
( , Fri 21 Mar 2008, 0:00, 1 reply)
I think I've just had my last one
And nicotine patches made me bork. WHY THE FUCK DID I START SMOKING?
If any non-smokers are reading this, or any other posts like this, then for god's sake, it's not worth it!
-shortness of breath
-generally unfit
-eyes start fucking up
-chest infections come like anything
-chest infections take longer to go away
-immune system just packs in
-you turn into a nervous wreck when you haven't had one
-you fucking stink!
I'm only 20 for fuck's sake!
( , Thu 20 Mar 2008, 23:35, 2 replies)
And nicotine patches made me bork. WHY THE FUCK DID I START SMOKING?
If any non-smokers are reading this, or any other posts like this, then for god's sake, it's not worth it!
-shortness of breath
-generally unfit
-eyes start fucking up
-chest infections come like anything
-chest infections take longer to go away
-immune system just packs in
-you turn into a nervous wreck when you haven't had one
-you fucking stink!
I'm only 20 for fuck's sake!
( , Thu 20 Mar 2008, 23:35, 2 replies)
LUNG DAMAGE FROM PNEUMONIA NEVER DETERRED ME, PATSY
I remember it well. I was 15, leaning against the wall in back of the local K-Mart with some friends. I started to take a small drag and thought "well, this isn't so bad." Therefore I sucked in as much as my lungs could handle and spent the next ten minutes coughing until I was red in the face and drooling. Oh, the shame. I was not cool enough to handle smoking.
I actually officially started smoking almost exactly a year ago. I should buy my lungs some flowers or something. The reason? Well, there was a man involved.
Click "I like this" if you were also young and naive enough to start smoking because of another person, and ultimately failed to get in their pants but did develop a lovely cough, an aversion to exercise, and a hole in the bank account. God damn.
( , Thu 20 Mar 2008, 23:28, Reply)
I remember it well. I was 15, leaning against the wall in back of the local K-Mart with some friends. I started to take a small drag and thought "well, this isn't so bad." Therefore I sucked in as much as my lungs could handle and spent the next ten minutes coughing until I was red in the face and drooling. Oh, the shame. I was not cool enough to handle smoking.
I actually officially started smoking almost exactly a year ago. I should buy my lungs some flowers or something. The reason? Well, there was a man involved.
Click "I like this" if you were also young and naive enough to start smoking because of another person, and ultimately failed to get in their pants but did develop a lovely cough, an aversion to exercise, and a hole in the bank account. God damn.
( , Thu 20 Mar 2008, 23:28, Reply)
My First Ciggy
My first ciggy was one I stole from my step father and smoked with a friend hiding behind the back fences of the gardens on my street at about 12 years old.
Excellent feeling of chemical warmth and dizzyness, I went back instantly and stole another for more. Then started doing it in school... now Im on 10-20 a day :(
( , Thu 20 Mar 2008, 23:18, Reply)
My first ciggy was one I stole from my step father and smoked with a friend hiding behind the back fences of the gardens on my street at about 12 years old.
Excellent feeling of chemical warmth and dizzyness, I went back instantly and stole another for more. Then started doing it in school... now Im on 10-20 a day :(
( , Thu 20 Mar 2008, 23:18, Reply)
Things I learnt at school
besides the usual, 1 + 1 = 2 and 'wrap your pecker before you deck 'er' I learned that smoking made you look cool, and allowed you to hang out with the elite badasses (OK, drunken, stoned morons, but it was fun) trouble is, when I left all that behind, I realised that I love smoking, theres nothing finer than the sharp taste of a rollie on a cold day, even better if its sub zero or raining, no idea why. and 3am, when theres nobody outside but you and your ciggy and you can just relax and enjoy the silence and be with your thoughts.
I will quit one day, but until then, smoke em if you got em
( , Thu 20 Mar 2008, 23:01, Reply)
besides the usual, 1 + 1 = 2 and 'wrap your pecker before you deck 'er' I learned that smoking made you look cool, and allowed you to hang out with the elite badasses (OK, drunken, stoned morons, but it was fun) trouble is, when I left all that behind, I realised that I love smoking, theres nothing finer than the sharp taste of a rollie on a cold day, even better if its sub zero or raining, no idea why. and 3am, when theres nobody outside but you and your ciggy and you can just relax and enjoy the silence and be with your thoughts.
I will quit one day, but until then, smoke em if you got em
( , Thu 20 Mar 2008, 23:01, Reply)
This question is now closed.