NFR Humor (No political jokes)
- Thread starter Buzzy
- Start date
Non-fishing related
Jim in Anacortes
Life of the Party
Jim in Anacortes
Life of the Party
That's the brand that got me hooked when I was 15. I smoked for the next 15 years, and have chewed nicotine gum for 20.
Went to an estate in Prescott,AZ. last year. The home was owned by the original "Marlboro Man".
Yep! Both he and his wife died of lung cancer.
Yep! Both he and his wife died of lung cancer.
Started smoking when I was 17. Smoked them for nearly 25 years , that ,and Lucky Strike , but preferred Camels . My wife , had to been around the late 80's , you gotta make a choice , it's either golf or cigarettes , can't afford both .
I chose golf , quit cold turkey , never smoked again .
What probably helped as much as my wife saying I had a choice , was the fact I never enjoyed smoking, Iv'e heard people say I enjoy a cigarette , that wasn't me . As a lot of young people do , I got the habit , once I decided to quit it was not difficult .
Fun fact. Sam Darnold's grandfather was the Marlboro Man cowboy.Went to an estate in Prescott,AZ. last year. The home was owned by the original "Marlboro Man".
Yep! Both he and his wife died of lung cancer.
Porter2
Legend
Something reminded me yesterday of this true story:
A bit of context: first, I'm a woman. Second, for reasons lost to the mists of time, my immediate family has called me "Otis" since I was a toddler. No one remembers why.
Fast forward to when I was a petite, kinda cute twenty-something with an impacted wisdom tooth, late last century.
Just after the anesthetist had administered nitrous to settle me before whatever they use to knock you out for the surgery, this huge, Barry White-looking guy with voice to match, and wearing floral scrubs, enters the room and purrs in a serious baritone: "Hello. I'll be your nurse today. My name is Otis."
I responded immediately with a slight slur "What a coincidence. So is mine."
He gazed at me for several seconds with an expression that was tinged with clear suspicion that I was mocking him, glanced at the clipboard in his hand, and then replied in his slow, deep tones, "Suuuuuure it is."
As my drug-fogged brain slowly caught up to the conversation, I distinctly remember thinking that I wasn't going to even try to explain myself while stoned, and just let it hang there, giggling helplessly under the laughing gas.
I never did see him after waking up.
A bit of context: first, I'm a woman. Second, for reasons lost to the mists of time, my immediate family has called me "Otis" since I was a toddler. No one remembers why.
Fast forward to when I was a petite, kinda cute twenty-something with an impacted wisdom tooth, late last century.
Just after the anesthetist had administered nitrous to settle me before whatever they use to knock you out for the surgery, this huge, Barry White-looking guy with voice to match, and wearing floral scrubs, enters the room and purrs in a serious baritone: "Hello. I'll be your nurse today. My name is Otis."
I responded immediately with a slight slur "What a coincidence. So is mine."
He gazed at me for several seconds with an expression that was tinged with clear suspicion that I was mocking him, glanced at the clipboard in his hand, and then replied in his slow, deep tones, "Suuuuuure it is."
As my drug-fogged brain slowly caught up to the conversation, I distinctly remember thinking that I wasn't going to even try to explain myself while stoned, and just let it hang there, giggling helplessly under the laughing gas.
I never did see him after waking up.