Spike's Bitches 47: Someone Dangerous Could Get In
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
Huge, huge, huge, Teppy. Good for him, and good for you for the long talk and the love, and tons of vibes to him and your SIL.
And many ongoing non-smoking vibes to smonster. I just found out that my dad, who has had weird lung issues for the last several years despite being fit and active and scarily vigorous for a 70-year-old with prostate cancer, officially has emphysema, because of the decades of smoking that he only kicked about 12 years ago. The general good health and fitness will help him compensate for it, but there's no curing it, and in the long run it'll have a much more shitty, permanent impact on his life than the prostate cancer.
So please, please, keep kicking the cigs to the curb. Even if you dodge the cancer bullet, smoking has more ammo on hand to fuck you up with.
Hey, I have been crying in my car 2x a week for a few weeks, so truly I think this is a new trend! I even went to the local drugstore to buy visine before I went to work so they wouldn't think I have a serious hangover.
If I look like I am hungover, I'd like to have fun the previous night first please.
'ma to everyone and all concerned. Happy Healing vibes.
Visine! I didn't think of that! LeN, that's depressingly genius.
Perhaps oddly, the theoretically more ergonomic layout of my desk at work causes me more pain and discomfort than curling up on my lounge at home with a laptop in my, you know, lap.
your eyes still look puffy if you have been crying a bit, but at least the whites of your eyes are clear.
there is something to do about the puffiness, but I am not interested in being THAT prepared for crying jags.
Smoking is a total asshole. My dad is pretty upset - when he broke up with smoking almost a decade and a half ago, he took the high road: didn't talk smack about smoking, didn't bitch it out to mutual friends, just politely said, "We used to be a thing, smoking and me, but we grew apart." Held no grudges, played no games.
And now, all these years later, it turns out smoking had booby-trapped his lungs with very long-range detonators way back when. Smoking always knew it would end someday, and smoking didn't give a crap. Smoking was playing the long game, that fucker.
Also, I declare Crying In One's Car to be a bad trend, and I give the stinkeye to any employer who pushes any Buffista to that extremity.
For me, it isn't because of my employer. I have a couple of asshole coworkers, but they aren't the ones making me cry.
Man, smoking is a jerk.
Smoking is a total asshole fuckhead. I'm trying to reconcile myself to knowing that I may always want a cigarette, and that I can want it without trying to suppress the desire (guaranteed to fail anyway) or giving in. I am more addicted now than I ever was. I don't really have any confidence that this time quitting will succeed permanently, but I figure quitting when I can and limiting when I can't will help minimize my nastiness chances.
And maybe I'll suprise myself and quit permanently.
I was a health ed teacher. My grandfather died of lung cancer decades after he quit. I know all the diseases, all the risks, both health and aesthetic. But when I really want one, especially if I've had some alcohol? Doesn't fucking matter.
Then I redirect the stinkeye to the persons or life circumstances responsible, and vibe for less stress and grinding and difficulty in general.
Oh, yeah, it's not my job that makes me cry. It's just about everything else. I'd be crying wherever I was. It's just that at work I need to re-enter civilisation shortly afterwards.