fagend

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Really, smoking is a filthy habit and I wish you’d all just stop, like what I’ve done.

Yes, it’s true: in a major policy U-turn, Sour Grapes yesterday announced, “Right, that’s it for me. No more fags,” and introduced a sweeping ban on smoking on the premises. Analysts noted that it was only in March 2004 that Sour Grapes was all like, smoking is cool, down with anti-smoking legislation man and all that.

There’s no denying it. I have turned my coat, and all those die-hard smokers who looked to me for inspiration and leadership are just going to have to lump it. The day before yesterday I smoked my last fag, and by the time you actually read this I’ll have been smoke-free for something like seven eternities.

Because it’s not easy, despite what they say. I never thought it would be so physical, but you can feel the withdrawal in the very fibres of your being. On the first day I was even thinking to myself, if I’d known it was going to be this bad I’d never have agreed to give up. If I’d had any tabs left in the house I’m sure I’d have fallen off the wagon. Willpower or wot?

And that’s with the benefit of modern pharmacology. I’ve been taking Zyban, which is the latest and most effective way (it says here) of stamping out the weed. It started out life as an anti-depressant, until they found out it was helping people give up smoking. I have a friend who’s been clean for nine weeks now (you stop taking it after seven or thereabouts) so I decided to follow suit.

Nobody knows how Zyban works, but I have a theory. You see, you first have to go to the doctor to get a prescription, which is a piece of cake because they’re hardly going to say no, are they? Then you start taking one tablet a day for a week, then two tablets a day. And here’s the trick: for those two weeks, you’re still smoking! Obviously, when you finally do stop, you’ve had all that time to get used to the idea, and you may even be starting to get a little impatient. There you are, walking around like someone who’s given up smoking, but without the trouble of actually depriving yourself of any lovely lovely ciggies. And that, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, is why Zyban scores more highly than any other method or combination of methods.

In theory, at least, because in practice giving up smoking is a nasty, painful, unpleasant dose of pure suffering. Nobody tells you that beforehand. Everyone always says, oh you’ll be surprised how little you even think about cigarettes blah blah and other such evil lying rubbish. Of course they don’t want to put you off, but here at Sour Grapes we treat our readers like adults, and I’m confident you can handle the truth.

It’s sheer unadulterated Hell. Never mind how little you think about cigarettes: you think about them ALL THE TIME. Every five seconds there’s that little trigger goes off in your brain just as it has for years now, going Nicotine Levels Down! Time for a ciggie! But of course now you can’t do anything about it. And so on it goes, all day long, never going away and never more to be appeased. Like Tantalus, punished by the gods by being unable to eat or drink. And also a bit like Prometheus, chained to the rock with the eagle eating his liver, forever and ever.

So there you have it: the benefits of giving up the fags. Terrible unending agony and suffering on the one hand as every cell in your body screams out for a puff of smoke. And on the other hand, with a delicious irony, you get to live in agony for longer, and can smell other people’s fags better. Pretty overwhelming logic, wouldn’t you say?

Published January 2005