newts

i have a few vices. some of which i learnt young. take smoking, for example...

i learnt how to roll from my uncle glynn. he'd bring me tubes of smarties, chase me around the sofas until i learned a new headwound (i say 'chase' figuratively, as he was a restful man and would catch me either by tripping my feet or by luring me over with tabacco esoterica) or give me lessons. one of which was to roll a mean smoke. the rizla'd come out, the golden virginia pouch with its earthy smell, and then the slight hand gestures and adjustments. he'd pinch out the tickles sticking out of an end, tossing the flecks back into the pouch, and then light the fag. it smelled good. i always saved all my orange smarties till the end (i had convinced myself that they tasted like terry's orange choclate, a rare treat) and proffered them as trade for his valuable skills. he let me roll a few smokes, which looked like the nesting sites of 2-dimensional birds, and then even light them to pass to him. i was perhaps 8. i'd been caught drinking a few times by then; once turned in by a friend at the smurf's ice-capades for enticing him with a hippie of scotch; another time drinking my mum's dad's pear wine; and the other times... wait, i've yet to be called out on them...

where was i going with this? oh yes... why do we feel compelled to buy stuff when it's just lying around? i pass about a pound of tobacco on the streets everyday... this gives me an idea: tobacco cake! and a whole line of baked goods, including tobacco biscottis (what the hell are they? bookmarks? anti-witch talismans? mobile bulletin boards? even jackie chan would not know how to use them...)

i truly wish i'd known uncle glynn as an adult.