On ode to Marlboro
If you’ve met me, and you may well have done so, you’ll know me by my sunny disposition, snappy wardrobe, vertical hair and constant consumption of various stimulants that make me awesome. Indeed I was often advertised for my end of the pier show with the slogan “a smile, a song, a faint smell of Marlboro”. Well those days are over kids. I’ve quit. So naturally I wrote to Philip Morris to let them know.
Dear Philip Morris
I’m not certain how many letters like this you get but I’d guess it’s probably not many. I’m not writing to you today in any litigant fashion, nor am I going to yell at you folks for the nature of your products, I’m neither buying nor selling. I’ve decided to get in touch purely to thank you for your Marlboro brand of cigarettes which, until one month ago, I was an avid consumer of.
The propagandists have done a thorough job of undermining smoking as a pastime claiming that it is not cool, sexy, social or any of the things I know from personal experience and as a fact it is. It’s hard to deny that smoking is pretty bad for you, but then I’d be most surprised if anyone who took up the hobby of setting fire to things and putting them in your mouth was unaware of this. Hell, I started smoking when I was 20 so I really have no excuses with regard to it being a bit harmful or a bit addictive.
Personally I’ve always felt that people without any form of self destructive streak are not to be trusted, perhaps you guys feel the same?
I digress, as I often do. No, I’m writing to thank you for Marlboro cigarettes because for the past 16 years they’ve been a fairly significant part of my existence, and they’ve never let me down. If ever I was bored or relaxing or under pressure, happy or sad, they’d be exactly the right mood enhancer for the moment. No matter the weather, or the country I was in Marlboro cigarettes hit the spot first time every time – and let me tell you that there was no real upper limit on how often every time was, the only thing holding me back was my own limit of a pack a day.
Ever wonder why my site is red/white/black?
Suffice to say I have been defined by many who know me by my vociferous pro-smoking stance, one that I still have even now. I was famed for my “breakfast of champions” the double tap and bull (translated, back to back Marlboros and a Red Bull), because it is frankly, and please excuse the language, a pretty significant fuck you to the planet. It’s a breakfast statement that shows a significant disdain for the safety net and has the added advantage of getting you fired up to face the day, irrespective of what time that day is starting.
As you may have gathered by now, much of the above refers to my consumption of Marlboro cigarettes in the past tense, and somewhat regrettably I have decided to leave my reliable companion behind and press on without him, so I have now been one month defying expectation and not smoking. Some quit-smoking experts describe the sensation as being a “happy non-smoker” but frankly I wasn’t that happy a smoker, so I’m not especially chipper without it. No, I am instead a hungry non-smoker. What is never mentioned by the non-smoking gestapo is that it is very much like vampirism – no matter how much you eat or drink you continue to feel hungry once you’ve knocked the smoking on the head.
I’ve gone from a pack of Marlboro to a pack of Crunchy Nut Cornflakes a day, and I can’t say I feel any more healthy as a result. Next stop, quitting eating I guess.
Anyway, I wanted to thank you for your product which has brought me a great many hours enjoyment and ask that you guys get cracking on the cigarette that tastes like a Marlboro but is infused with vitamins and suchlike that actually keep you alive longer so that the government here won’t tax them quite so severely and I can resume my relationship once more.
Best wishes
Sam
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