Vincent Likes The Bed Making Game

All this scar tissue bubbling over the loss of simple plastic tube technology, but the Aero filled in the gaps from the e-vapes, and I became dependent on both cigarette technologies to keep me away from traditional tobacco. Vuse is nice, and I am switching over to it from blu cigs, but the Aero simply worked for me, and I cannot back slide back into 3 packs a day. My lung decline is too advanced, aside from the children I must soon give up, unless the sliver of my mind left still convinced of my tragic mental acuity can pull a stroke of genius out of my life long location misery. Tony Stiles is the most recognized libertarian following me on twitter. I took a few days to digest this, think about it, schedule a slot to listen to his broadcast, or flag my time to do so, at some point, but let me say this: The one thing we all know is if you break your leg, you can no longer run the Olympic marathon. Liberals out of sympathy create the Paralympics so the gimps can imitate what they once were, and a conservative might say amputation is the better part of valor-- so, there are politics around these broken bodies, and my desire to get out of Riverside Presbyterian is not a denial of the fact that I'm over 50 but a recognition of it: I want the housing authorities to stop criminalizing my limitations and I want to decline without constantly being threatened by Protestants modeling me on their "good works" doctrine (through terrorizing me for 30 years, that will do it), first under Caucasian hypocrites, then under black liberation theology, which has its own pretensions that personal responsibility burrows over African psychopathy. Like Stacy Head, I know it doesn't, but unlike Stacy Head, I am unapologetically racist.  Philadelphia's minority majority encrypted that codex for me, and the city of New Orleans is a disease I am buoyed not to know, just as sibling frictions are complex. I apologized to my sister for going overboard with her in 2007. My life was in jeopardy, seriously, and I lost it, but this isn't to recognize simmering resentments.

Stephanie married badly, and her husband is placid but also white trash, and having four children in rapid succession dampened her aspirations. What they were I can no longer say, since she enrolls in college, drops out, takes a nursing degree but has to end her career for the sake of the husband. In her book, I have unenviable freedom, and we both accuse each other that these are the lives we made. I know I need technology I can no longer afford to stay independent. Christ knows I've grown old with militants like Cassie James frightening people and my former editor Josie Byzek preaching catechism to the choir, but I'm of an age where I make the decisions: look at how many layers of government direct how we live our lives, SSA, HUD, the VA, the IRS, and the favorite of drug dealers, public welfare. This is why I spent my childhood under the knife, so that I could provide a house nigger like Trudy Richardson a job telling senile people how to handle their ovens in a kitchenette. This is it, that's all I am, a problem that justifies her salary while I was doing home economics before she was born, in rehabs, when I was fourteen. Freedom is making the bed on my time, thank you, and saying let me go when it it time instead of medically torturing me back into bed ridden containment. I've considered accessing 4 chan to help me get out, even for a short time. I know it is a risk, but this is how much I want to breathe without regulatory dictation at my back, though it could be too late, could be.

Adaptation Deficit

The Aero is not a perfect cessation crutch, but my physiology is now in serious trouble with Woodleaf's holiday announcement. E cigarettes are unreliable. Plastic tubes are not. I am not going to take the time right now to surf for a replacement, but if you have any recommendations, I utilize the vapor.

Curse of Sinn Fein

Perhaps my coconut milk curdled, but suffice to say I cannot attend to group this afternoon. Used to a troubled bowel as I am, the virulence of this attack frightened me to the point that if I want to return to Italy to die, I'd better start focusing on getting that done. I'd dive into racism in the 21st century, but should wait to see if I have gone viral in the tradition of an influenza.

It is official: I am sick beyond the normal parameters of COPD, and over-utilizing blu and its glycerin atomizers may have contributed. Again, I cannot work, again.

But since I cannot find the post I am looking for, and what else is new, let me make some slight observation about attuning our addictive propensities to alternate and digital technologies: these and these each have strengths and weaknesses. Aero is simple and portable and can be taken anywhere, but does not last long and generates pressure on the need to recycle. The electronic version is stronger and closer to the stabilization of tobacco, but binds the user to the grid with greater necessity, and I am not entirely sure this is much better than the rise of the tobacco industry, though its torturous fall is a utilitarian virtue for public health. As Aaron Eckart in his didactic mode illustrates, however, many of our modern conveniences have pitfalls.

And I am unsure what the left thinks it will achieve in the attempt to regulate vice and negative behaviors out of existence.