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Smoke You!

On my walk to work today, two women, in front of different office buildings on Yonge st, nonchalantly flicked their still-lit cigarettes towards the street, and both almost hit me.  If only they knew how disgusting and filthy they were- oh wait, they do, because I told them both :)

You may look cool, Bette, but if you throw that thing at me, I'll kick your ass.
Supposedly only 21% of Ontarians smoke, but let me tell you, I walk past or behind most of them each weekday.  I'm constantly varying my speed to try to stay out of the clouds of smoke, especially if I've just washed my hair.  Sort of ruins my day to go from smelling like high end shampoo to an ashtray less than an hour out of the shower, you know?

I walk behind them, but I also live below them.  The first thing I do each spring, before planting new herbs and flowers, is dig out the cigarette butts my upstairs neighbours have thoughtfully tossed over their balconies and into my plants.  And I haven't gotten the worst of it; a few years ago, some dick set fire to his downstairs neighbour's patio furniture, and caused major damage to the side of the building.  This has caused me to rethink my long-standing habit of leaving my discarded, dried up Christmas tree on my balcony until April, but that's another story.


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