Quitting

I want/am going to try to quit smoking. The thing is though, I'm really good at it. You see, I fail at oh, just so much. My short stories are dully predictable. I write them with the hopes of getting a tortured, yet still Bronsonly attractive and abrasively charming, hero to the climax (of the plot and the inevitable gratuitous sex scene) as quickly as possible, then I tie up the loose ends, tell a joke about baseball and its refreshing pointlessness, and move on. I buy wheat rye bread so I have an excuse when it turns into a charcoal briquette instead of grilled cheese. I am always buying new furniture because I am such a slob, everything rots. I am hopelessly in debt because of this. I've considered getting a job. I have at points. I never keep one for longer than six months.*

But smoking! I'm great at smoking. I have a meerschaum pipe with a really long tube, and sometimes I smoke it and pretend I'm a wizard. I can roll cigarettes that look factory made. I've been solicited by cigar companies on several occasions.** And now I've bought these great diesel jeans,(edit: Oh! And the most best part is that I bought them at the most vile conscription store in columbus and they're the second best find ever from their at 1/8 of the price) and they're boot cut, and I'm going to look so damn desirable smoking a cigarette in them. I could lean up against a wall, maybe a lamppost, and put one boot on the thing I'm leaning on, and tada!
And the whole coffee and people watching thing. As previously noted, people watching is pointless without the coffee and the cigarette. If I just took the coffee out there, people would think I was some creepazoid for drinking hot fluids on a hot day.

I could stop wearing the "I <3 Students" shirt.
Ah, but whatever. I really do want to live forever. This is the last one. I quit buying comics. I quit smoking pot. I quit playing video games. (which, btw, are eerily accessible) I can quit smoking cigarettes.
*This is actually true.
**This is totally false.