I Bitch Out Kentuckys Best

I used to know a lady in Cincinnati Ohio who used to talk to her cigarrettes. You would see her all over the place, in restaurants. White castles, Kentucky Fried Chicken, MacDonalds, etc., there she would be, at any given time, her pack of Pall Mall keeping her company along with her coffee. You never knew exactly what she was saying to them, despite the fact that sometimes she all but yelled at them. Then, she would go back to talking quietly. “Normally”. Then, she would start yelling again. Sometimes she would spank them. And, of course, she would smoke them. Nobody ever hardly said anything to her. I know I sure as hell wasn’t about to.

I heard once that years ago she set her apartment on fire, and then left her hsband and kids there, all who died as a result. According to this story, the veracity of which I cannot vouch for, she then went insane. I wonder sometimes if she is still alive. It’s been going on ten years now since I last lived in the Cincinnati/Covington area, though the last time I saw her, she seemed like she had actually started to get a grip. She seemed sane. But I will always remember her for those cigarettes, and the way she would sometimes jab her fist in her mouth suddenly, as if in realization of some sudden, sickening horror that was indescribable.

And so, in honor of “Crazy Betty”, I am now going to have a conversation with my cigarrettes. I am going to here transcribe the conversation. Just for posterity.

ME: God damn you. Why won’t you leave me alone? Will I never be rid of you?

KENTUCKYS BEST: It’s you who wont leave us alone. I’ve never seen you before you just waltzed into the store and bought me. I had no say in it. You must have me confused with another pack of Kentuckys Best cigarrettes. Like maybe the one you just finished smoking before you opened me up.

ME: Fuck you. You are a fucking pack of cigarrettes, you are all the same.

KENTUCKYS BEST: Bite me.

ME: Now I’m hooked on you and I can’t quit. All because the people who make you made you even more addictive than you would normally be, and the politicans used to support them. Now that I’m hooked the politicans have turned on me and other smokers and are trying to capitalize off our addiction. I hate them all.

KENTUCKYS BEST: Admit it, you love us, though.

ME: Yeah, right, according to the Surgeon General even your second hand smoke is dangerous to the other people I’m around. The no-good bastard is saying the science is now indisputable, supposedly. Soon, more and more people are going to ban smoking in indoor facilities. More and more states and municipalities are going to enact restrictions. No more smoking in restaurants, not even in bars. Not even smoking sections. No more smoking in any work places. And they keep making you more and more expensive, trying to make me quit, supposedly, yet deep down hoping I don’t so they can keep raking in the extra tax money for their stupid wasteful programs.

KENTUCKYS BEST: Come on, take a drag, you’ll feel better.

ME: It’s just wrong. It ain’t fair. I hate politicians. And I hate that lousy fucking Surgeon General. It’s all the fault of these motherfuckers who want to use politics to enforce their own values on the rest of us. Some employers are now going to more and more fire workers who smoke due to increased insurance costs. Before long they are going to try to ban it in your own home, suppossedly because it can harm your kids and other non-smoking relatives.

KENTUCKYS BEST: Can I ask you a question?

ME: All these motherfuckers should die. Hopefully from cancer.

KENTUCKYS BEST: I SAID CAN I ASK YOU A FUCKING QUESTION????!!!!!

ME: WHAT THE FUCK IS IT????!!!!!!.

KENTUCKYS BEST: WHY ARE YOU SO GODDAMNED PISSED OFF???? I’M THE ONE THAT’S GETTING FUCKING BURNED HERE!!!!!!