Smoke ’em if you got ’em

Hey everybody! Britt was too (tired/lazy/naked/multi-colored) to post today, so she asked me to fill in. I’ve decided that this is the perfect time to write Britt a little letter:

Dear Britt,

Today is one week and one day since you quit smoking. And I’ve stood idly by and kept quiet. I’ve thought about it and argued with myself. Is a good friend one who supports someone no matter what, or is a good friend someone who puts his foot down when enough is enough?

I have decided that I can no longer remain mute about something that means this much to me – I care too much about you to just let this lie. It’s time for some tough love.

Here are the top ten reasons that you need to start smoking again:

10. When the occasional ash would land on your nose, it twinkled like fairy dust!

9. I cannot continue to walk around wearing a full suit of protective armor. It’s fucking hot in here!

8. The only time I can convince you to listen to me whine about some girly thing was when you were taking a smoke break. Now I have to resort to IMing you from across the room.

7. I’d rather be lit on fire than stabbed.

6. If I can’t be one of the cool kids, at least I got to hang with the cool kids.

5. I got used to having full conversations in seven minutes.

4. One less vice means you’re that much closer to being perfect. And you let me know that every day. I can’t take it anymore!

3. I lost 30 pounds just sitting outside in the Florida heat at restaurants so you could smoke while we eat. Now I’ve gained 60!

2. Everybody knows lung cancer is just a myth, like the Holocaust.

1. The sound of you chewing celery is not nearly as easy to listen to as the gentle “SHMMOOOOOWAKKABOOOM” inhale and exhale as you smoked.

I only tell you these things because you are my bestest friend and I love you. I want you to be the person that you used to be. Someday we’ll look back and you’ll be all “Aww, Adam, thanks for the tough love,” and I’ll be all, “No problem Brittoni,” and then we’ll get on the backs of dolphins and ride away into the sunset.

Sincerely,

Adam Avitable

P.S. I hid a pack of Marlboro Lights in my shorts. You’ll have to search around for them.

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