The majority of smokers that I know, don't smoKe in the house anyway, we go outside.

I can't be bothered to type the full stories as I've done it before, but I knew one man of 42 years of age, about 5-11, and 12 stones, pretty fit, non-smoker, occasional drinker, ran half marathons (13 miles) for charity. Died watching the television on a Saturday afternoon.

Office worker in my old firm, in his early 30s, newly married with young baby, 5 feet 6, about 9 stones soaking wet. Non-smoker, non drinker. Had a massive heart attack and died while he had his baby in his arms.

An old friends brother, late 40s, 6-2, slim, non-drinker, non-smoker, collapsed in street and died before the ambulance got to him.

Enjoy what you like, you're only here once.

I don't have any friends who smoke. Very difficult to understand why anyone does in view of the statistics.

I think one of the problems is that people start smoking when they are young when death and illness dont exist. When they are older and realise the damage it does it's too late and they cant give up.

Bill Hicks, smokers vs non-smokers routine.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pZTSfkNc1bQ&feature=related

Smoking doesn't affect my judgment of anything.

It has been proved that heavy use of marijuana causes slower reactions and paranoia.

Hang on a minute.

Ffs skip, couldn't you tell I was building up to a hilarious slow, paranoid reaction there. Nearly an hour that took, wtf are you doing posting in the middle of the night anyway?

I was going to say there was a plot by SF or something. It would have been really funny.

No problem, skip. I may have been a bit drunk.

Car drivers mangled on UK roads on a daily basis. I'd say the odds of just one being a mary joanna smoker are not that long.

As for paranoia, I recall a nutjob on the London Underground running full pelt from the carriage he was in, screaming something like 'Why don't you all leave me alone.' and running head first into a chocolate machine mounted on the wall.  Could have been worse, he could have run into one of my young daughters.

For me

Bob Marley died of Melanoma. Cancer of the skin started in his big toe and within 4 years tumours had spread to his liungs and brain. He was 36.

Mother smoked until her mid-50s, including while carrying me. She enjoyed remarkably good health, until succumbing to acute leukaemia at 81, and dying within a matter of days.

Father smoked until his mid-70s. Died of a heart attack at 86 or 88 (it was never clear which of his dates of birth was the real one). He was an interesting case, because he spent the last year of the War in an elite unit of the German armed forces, and consequently had access to virtually unlimited beer. When he was withdrawn from the front-line for a period, he found himself guarding Australian and French PoWs. The French, he said, were miserable so-and-so's, uncommunicative and shuffling around in their greatcoats. The Australians, however, were very different, and had access to vast quantities of Red Cross cigarettes. They were keen to barter the cigs for beer, and that way my dad gave up alcohol virtually completely, and switched to tobacco instead. Of the two addictions, my dad was convinced that tobacco was the better, simply because cigarette addicts are a hell of a lot easier to live with than alcoholics.

I smoked throughout my twenties - Camels and Gitanes. I just loved the taste of both of them, never mind the nicotine addiction. I used to stop occasionally, then start again when I found myself chucked out by girlfriends, or in employment, or in similarly hopeless situations.

I stopped for good during the bitter winter of 1990-91. I'd had a stupendous day one afternoon at Newbury in November, and by February it was clear I'd finally cracked the game and wasn't going to have to get a job again. I'd had another decent day at one of those AW hurdling cards at Lingfield, and was running to catch a connecting train at Clapham Jnctn on the way home, when I found another racegoer, a little chap, about 80, comfortably keeping up with me.

'Bloody hell,' I thought. 'I've got everything I ever wanted here - making a living from going racing. I want to enjoy it like he is, when I reach that age.'

So that was that. I was lodging at my mate Pete's house at the time, and he was married, so he found it a bit harder to give up, but he could see what it meant for me, so he stopped in the end too, to make it easier for me.

I can't think of anyone I know who currently smokes. I wish some of them wouldn't consume so much ethanol though.