Wednesday, July 12, 2006

Girl, You Know It's Vrai


The finest tobacco in the world, as my palate discerns, is... Amsterdamer a Rouler. Having lived for a spell in Paris, there's nothing more relaxing than sitting back in a cafe or tabac, sipping a nice cappuccino, perhaps a glass of biere, and rolling, then smoking, a fine cigarette stuffed with said tobacco.

Unfortunately, you can only purchase this wonderful goodness in Europe, so in order to get ahold of such splendor, you must order online from wholesalers, and buy in bulk.

Thusly, four years ago, I came into possession of twelve packs of the eponymous goodness. Perhaps these days you can get it somewhere in major American cities (probably New York, Boston, etc..) but that was not the case then. So, as I am not much of a smoker, and usually smoke American Spirits when I do, for the last four years I have had this stuff in my freezer, slowly making my way through its wondrous, lung-buttering pleasantry.

Finally, I am on the second to last pack.

Which has absolutely nothing to do with this blog posting, other than the fact that I just smoked one. And it was wonderful. Especially with a beer, on a beautiful summer day, in my backyard, having worked a long 8 hour day, and, most importantly, after my self imposed sobriety ban - which was supposed to last at least six days, but made it three. Apparently, my body (or intensely racing mind) has not figured out how to sleep without drugs in it, so after a few three hour of sleep nights I had to put the k(i)ybash down on that one. At least I made it to to hump day, damnit.

My backyard is an interesting amalgamation these days. First of all, there's some construction going on. Namely for Suzie the Turtle, who lives in this aquarium, which the cats decided to investigate.
















Soon, however, she will live in the splendor of the Turtle Pit...
















.. situated immediately beneath the tree house.
















Finally, for all you lovers of fine art, I present you my latest glass creation:

I call him Resin Man, or what happens when you get high, accidentally break a bunch of shit, then stick it all together. In a 2,000 degree flame of Oxygen and Propane.
















You can't inspire everyone with such greatness.

















Sobriety Ban, eat shit.

9 Comments:

Blogger copyranter said...

Is that a pitchback in the second backyard pic? jesus, I miss my pitchback.

07:40  
Blogger David said...

It's what us (former) Northerners call a "Southern Pitchback," i.e., the gate door from a chain link fence.

15:50  
Blogger Candy Minx said...

Darlink, you've outdone yourself...and a cigarette topic too. I'll light one up in a few minutes and think upon the splender of the turtle grotto. (I like the glamour of grotto over pit, if you'll allow me some artistic licence)

Much love,
Candy

12:25  
Blogger Candy Minx said...

Hey are gonna take Resin Man out for a night on the town?

17:23  
Blogger Slinky Redfoot said...

is Florida as fucked up as everyone says?

13:36  
Anonymous Melina said...

Your guy's treehouse is absolutely AWESOME David!!!!!!!!!! I want to climb back up there!

11:41  
Blogger David said...

Florida?

Whatchootalkinbout, Slink?

15:24  
Blogger Miss Tanya said...

I love that dog. I'm too hungover to read so I'm just staring at pictures.

08:25  
Blogger Slinky Redfoot said...

i thought that's where you live

05:50  

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