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Smoking Crayons – Part 1 πŸ–

My love affair with cigarettes began at age six. In the mid-eighties, I lived in a β€˜70s-style contemporary rental home. Β It had a severe sloped roof, rough cedar board siding, dookie brown shag carpet, and a fixed wooden ladder that led to a loft space in the living room. Hippy Dippy. My family would spend hours in that living room entertaining their friends and our immediate relatives. They would all lounge about the L-shaped burnt orange velour couch (a fab color combo with the carpet) to smoke their extra long cigarettes, drink beverages, and talk for hours. My brother Michael is ten years older than me so, being a teenager, he was allowed to stay and comingle with the adults. I was...

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