Well, here I am, going balls deep into day two of the hardest decision of my young life. Through the constant pressure of my oldest brother Zach (KTC Member), I finally gave in and decided to go on the long journey of quitting one of my most cherished past times.
The fact is that I do not WANT to quit, but, of course I need to. Granted I have only been dipping for 4 years, that can to can and a half a day was a sure fire way to mellow me out through whatever I was going through i.e. boring job, being broke, my NY Giants blowing it.
But, as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end. So here I am, Day 2, and getting ready for the long haul. I know in the end my jaw will thank me, and so will my wallet.
Doin' this one for me.
You don't need to quit now sweet pea. You'll stop when the oncologist calls you and tells you that pencil eraser sized bump on your lip is stage four cancer. I think the survival rate is pretty good for that, maybe like 10%. Ignore your bro and keep dipping. _
Cherished pastime? HA!! suicide on the installment plan is a better description. What exactly do you think you love about this "pass time" of yours?
Is it, your love of spitting toxic brown snot into week old gatorade bottles that smell like a hobo's taint in the middle of August?
Is it your collection of those water bottles that have since turned into putrid petri dishes of hot sludge that have been rolling around in your car for weeks.
Spitting Peach flavored cancerhagen on your junk while you pretend to take a hour long dump?
Wasting thousands of hard earned dollars on a ridiculous pesticidal weed because you naively think it "mellows you out"?
You don't want to quit, so you won't. You'll fail. Fucking giants fan so go figure, The Rockettes have a better chance of winning the super bowl.
Your so called hard decision " and young life" is lame. Sean Marsee was dead at 18 from this shit. How old are you Spanky? Cancer doesn't give a rats ass about how long you dip or how old you are. The next dip you have could be the one that kills your silly ass.
Let me tell you somethin you need to know- That shit never did a damn thing for you. It doesn't mellow you , or help you power thru. It doesn't make your job less boring, make you money, or help the NY fucking giants blow tranny cock behind the news stand im Times Square. All that stuff does is relieve the anxiety you feel from being in nicotine withdrawl.
IT ONLY RELIEVES THE SYMPTOMS THAT IT CREATED IN THE FIRST PLACE. all your misguided romantic bs about the benefits of dip are imaginary. They are lies from a addict.
Let me tell you something else, when the cancer dart falls on your head, it fucking hurts. All the far away thoughts about it being somebody else's disease will come crashing in on you like a fucking train full of unescapeable despair. It is a nightmare you don't get to wake up from. Mommy can't put a bandaid on sessions of Chemo and radiation, and you don't get a fucking time out. Anybody that rolls those dice is a damn fool. I'll tell you straight, it ain't worth it. You best get your head together in a NY minute or your going to be in trouble at some point in the future. This shit is no joke, and your
only 4 years of dipping don't buy you any safety.
For your sake I hope day three stings like a mother fucker and you NEVER FORGET what it is like to withdraw from that killing can of minty flavored cancer. Remembering the suck will keep you quit.
Grab your balls Ifruity , or start searching groupon for specials on tongue surgery.
sM
