Post by judyb on Mar 18, 2018 7:22:00 GMT -5
The nicobeast. I hate the SOB. I hate what he has done to me, I hate what he has done to
people who are close to me. I hate what he did to people that were close to me but who are no
longer on this earth. He took them from me as sure as he put a gun to their heads and pulled
the trigger.
The nicobeast is like a spy and a thief. He is able to get close to unsuspecting people and take
what he chooses. He first enters the curiosity by convincing his victim that he is a source of
comfort and relaxation. He enters the subconscious where he turns his evil charm against
confidence and common sense into arrogance and eventually into aggressiveness. He preys on
the psyche and turns a friendship into a monster which spins his victim into an uncontrollable
addict.
The addict must have the fix. It doesn’t matter when the nicobeast calls. He could call in the
middle of the night. He could call during the most terrible blizzard. No matter, the addict will
seek and then find the potion. The solution will be disguised in a slender white wrap of paper
with tobacco inside. It may be in a store miles away, it could be in a crunched mess bundled in
the bottom of a coat pocket. It could be a smashed glob of crap pushed into the bottom of an
ashtray by someone else. All sense of cleanliness, health, self esteem, and pride are quickly
forgotten in this frantic search for at least one hit.
The addiction has no boundaries. Even while walking down the street, it is hard to escape the
lure of the nicobeast. People who have quit smoking can feel his calling months and even years
after having tossed the last cigarette aside. Tobacco shops are everywhere, people are always
blowing smoke your way, cigarette butts are in abundance all over the streets and sidewalks.
The constant remembrance dares to pull you aside and gobble you up and swallow you whole.
It is almost as though the nico beast is even calling you from the smoker standing beside you.
The aroma of his magical stick, the romance of its fire, the peace it seems to embody
continually waves its ugly head towards your senses. He does this with the charm of a prince,
enticing your every emotion. The nicobeast knows only too well the path to your heart and has
the wherewithal to slice through to the deepest parts of your soul.
Beware of him, he will stop at nothing to control every part of you. He will cause you to self inflict
wounds during your every waking moment. Not with the violence of a dagger or the subtlety of a
gun, but with unseen poisons that take their toll over time. It will all end in a nightmare of
sickness, after he has drained your body of its future, all its life, and all its vigor. He will steal
you from your family, your friends. He will kidnap you from this earth and send you spiraling
into the abyss. Fear him, loathe him, but most of all, fight him like no other. Fight him to the
death and never again allow him to prevail. Kill the SOB.
Bubb
Two months, two weeks, one day, 2 hours, 31 minutes and 56 seconds. 2283 cigarettes not
smoked, saving $325.53. Life saved: 1 week, 22 hours, 15 minutes.
people who are close to me. I hate what he did to people that were close to me but who are no
longer on this earth. He took them from me as sure as he put a gun to their heads and pulled
the trigger.
The nicobeast is like a spy and a thief. He is able to get close to unsuspecting people and take
what he chooses. He first enters the curiosity by convincing his victim that he is a source of
comfort and relaxation. He enters the subconscious where he turns his evil charm against
confidence and common sense into arrogance and eventually into aggressiveness. He preys on
the psyche and turns a friendship into a monster which spins his victim into an uncontrollable
addict.
The addict must have the fix. It doesn’t matter when the nicobeast calls. He could call in the
middle of the night. He could call during the most terrible blizzard. No matter, the addict will
seek and then find the potion. The solution will be disguised in a slender white wrap of paper
with tobacco inside. It may be in a store miles away, it could be in a crunched mess bundled in
the bottom of a coat pocket. It could be a smashed glob of crap pushed into the bottom of an
ashtray by someone else. All sense of cleanliness, health, self esteem, and pride are quickly
forgotten in this frantic search for at least one hit.
The addiction has no boundaries. Even while walking down the street, it is hard to escape the
lure of the nicobeast. People who have quit smoking can feel his calling months and even years
after having tossed the last cigarette aside. Tobacco shops are everywhere, people are always
blowing smoke your way, cigarette butts are in abundance all over the streets and sidewalks.
The constant remembrance dares to pull you aside and gobble you up and swallow you whole.
It is almost as though the nico beast is even calling you from the smoker standing beside you.
The aroma of his magical stick, the romance of its fire, the peace it seems to embody
continually waves its ugly head towards your senses. He does this with the charm of a prince,
enticing your every emotion. The nicobeast knows only too well the path to your heart and has
the wherewithal to slice through to the deepest parts of your soul.
Beware of him, he will stop at nothing to control every part of you. He will cause you to self inflict
wounds during your every waking moment. Not with the violence of a dagger or the subtlety of a
gun, but with unseen poisons that take their toll over time. It will all end in a nightmare of
sickness, after he has drained your body of its future, all its life, and all its vigor. He will steal
you from your family, your friends. He will kidnap you from this earth and send you spiraling
into the abyss. Fear him, loathe him, but most of all, fight him like no other. Fight him to the
death and never again allow him to prevail. Kill the SOB.
Bubb
Two months, two weeks, one day, 2 hours, 31 minutes and 56 seconds. 2283 cigarettes not
smoked, saving $325.53. Life saved: 1 week, 22 hours, 15 minutes.