Once upon a time, about a decade ago, I started smoking (gasp!). But, you say, weren't you just a wee gel then? And yes, yes I was, I reply. I decided, one day, when I was bored and skipping social studies lecture, that I needed a new activity to burn off the nervous energy all that excess coffee and Surge gave me. (Remember Surge? Pre-Red Bull super caffeinated nuclear green soda pop? Ah, those were the days.) So, I went to the local bodega-that-sells-to-underage-kids, and bought a pack of Newports. Why Newports? I dunno. I liked the package. After the first few horrible puffs, some dry-retching, and initial light-headedness, I was, once and for all, a Smoker. This, I thought, is what I want to do for the rest of my life. And so far, so good. I eventually learned to hate menthols, and went for regular and extra-strong cigarettes, experimented a bit with roll-your-owns, dabbled in lights, tasted some novelty flavours, and eventually settled happily with cherry-flavoured kreteks.
Cherry Djarums firmly in hand, my habit soon settled into delicious routine; a routine which would carry on, I thought, indefinitely. Until Obama signed into law the Family Smoking Prevention and Tobacco Control Act in May of 2009. Now, a warning: it's very very dense, and super long. Boiled down though, it pretty much prohibits tobacco advertising around schools, imposes larger warning labels on tobacco packages, and (this is the important bit) BANS ALL FLAVORED TOBACCO PRODUCTS -- except for menthol. Supposedly, because flavoured tobaccos attract children. Right, 'cause kids love them some cloves. Suffice it to say, Indonesia, the primary exporter of kreteks to the U.S. was fucking pissed about this. And who do you think the foremost lobbyist of this act was? Fucking Phillip Morris. A company that makes menthol and unflavoured cigarettes. Sounds fishy? Well, it is. This act, supposedly, was instated to cut down on underage smoking. Well, we've already got laws for that, how about enforcing them?
But no, says Our Wonderful and Infallible Government, let's put in some new laws to get rid of all the delicious cigarettes on the market. Oh, but not menthols. Too many people smoke those; we'd have a riot on our hands. Nevermind that menthols are the most popular amongst young smokers, and are scientifically formulated specifically to attract the younger crowds, while also being harder to quit. Yeah, let's not talk about that. Now, go to any high school or junior high, and look at the half-smoked cigarette butts littering the sidewalks. For every hundred Newport butts, you might find one clove butt, and that one was probably enjoyed by a passing college student. An increasingly disgruntled and annoyed college student. A college student who, without her delicious tasty nicotine sticks, might well snap and pummel an unsuspecting octagenarian for wheezing too loudly. And why? Because her favourite smokes are nowhere to be found. Banned. Illegalized. While the pubescent teenager is still loudly enjoying a menthol cigarette made to suit his or her sensitive palate. However, my fellow downtrodden clove-lovers, a solution presents itself to mind! Let's band together and FUCKING MAKE OUR OWN!
So stay tuned, kiddies, and I'll work my twitchy, caffeinated little ass off to find the perfect recipe for the perfect flavoured clove cigarette. My experiments, successes, and failures shall be chronicled here, for your smoking pleasure. Oh, yeah, and an added bonus? It'll almost definitely save you money. Cigarettes are fucking expensive. DIY is cheap.
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