Turns out that, once you stop smoking, everything around you starts to smell bad. And then you feel sorry for the poor bastards around you, whom you can only hope have become so accustomed to the general malodorousness of every day life that they are not burdened, as you are, with all this rottenness.
Posted by Toby Petzold
at 9:08 AM CDT
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Updated: Wednesday, 23 April 2003 12:54 PM CDT
Updated: Wednesday, 23 April 2003 12:54 PM CDT