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My Urn is an Ashtray

11•5•2025

My nicotine journey started at a rather young age. I was fifteen when I popped my nicotine-flavored cherry on an Ashton cigar gifted to me from my sister. The experience was ecstasy. The preparation of the cigar, the lighting right before your very first puff; it felt like something that I had been lacking my whole life. I loved the way I looked whenever I took a drag, and back then, the harsh taste never bothered me. From then on I would smoke around two to three a year on special occasions. One of the turning points for me was when I smoked a cigar down to the point where it resembled a gall from an oak tree. Every puff was brutal. It was thrashing at my tongue and throat as if I had just premaritally ravished its daughter. I had an egregious headache. I laid down for twenty minutes just to be able to move again. That’s it, never again. I gave my last remaining cigar to a friend of mine who came back to visit from his college in Nevada. (⋯)

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On Dominoes

10•8•2025

I've always been a fan of all sorts of card games. Spades, Ratscrew, Jacks, and Stud are some of my favorites. However, a new game has come to my attention, and I am just enthralled by it. The name of the game is Texas 42. It's a trick taking game, one of my favorite styles, but with a twist. Instead of cards, you play with a hand comprised of double-six dominoes. Two simple numbers now take the place of suites and ranks. Something about the shift from cards to dominoes really tickles my fancy. The act of fighting against gravity to overcome the uneven, 200 gram heaft of a one-sided domino while rubbing your fingers along the crater-like pips dotted on its surface is a cocophony of pleasing physicality. (⋯)

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Cigarette Daydreams

10•5•2025

Just two weeks ago, I sparked my first cigarette. And in the time since, I've grappled with the act of feeding into the tobacco industry as a devout socialist.

This whole "first cigarette" ordeal was premeditated. I was gonna smoke the one cigarette and that would be that. The fella giving me the square said these things were the absolute cream of cancer sticks. It was an American Spirit brand cigarette fresh out of its orange, laminated pack, and I'll be damned if that thing wasnt a pleasant experience that tingled all the senses just right. The aforementioned fella had this uncanny smile on his face that grew wider and wider with each puff I took. "You're a natural smoker" he said with an air of accomplishment (⋯)

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Popping My Blog Cherry

10•5•2025

I've been meaning to do this forever, but today's the day. At my sister's request, Eddie K. Shmookster is now a blogger... kinda. I aint gonna be telling my life story or nothing like that, but a little public journaling aint never hurt nobody. You, sir or maddame, are in for a treat. You're gonna be reading the most fabulously currated phycho ramblings about Marx, decade-old video games, humanity, bureaucracy, chronic pain, and oh-so much more on Shmookster.Neocities.org: a place of upmost beauty. Y'know, I don't even really like to write in my spare time. I alway loathed writing essays for school. (⋯)

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