I've been smoking since I was nine, toking since I was fourteen, and I ain't gonna quit. When the doctor tells me there is nowt more he can do, I will repond, hoarsely thru a hole in my throat, "Yes there is; get me a priest right the (deleted) now, and make sure he has some fags and a bottle of Pussers with him.
I'm lucky enough to live close to the rez, so I got my smokes for 20 bucks a carton. No warnings. No piscs of the dying. Just four words: "Made on Mohawk Territory."
