I am mortal and going to die

This weekend has proved a few things. One of them is how people enjoy wearing gray hoodies at night and walking on the side of the road within nicking distance of a car. If it wasn't for Joe yelling "DUDE! LOOK OUT!" there would've been a human nachos bell grande splattered all over the side of my car.

This also explained why people smoke and inhale.

Let me explain.

I smoke cigars, but I've always puffed them because inhaling was an impossibility for me. If I even attempted to inhale, a Mt. Saint Helens of coughing and dying would erupt out of my lungs and cause me to leak tears of pain from it. Needless to say, I stayed with puffing.

But recently, I've been trying because it's awesome of some sort.

And since last night, I now understand the relaxation tobacco gives. After almost hitting two Mexicans with my car, the stress levels skyrocketed. I've always felt relaxed because the cigars I smoke are usually grape, and the scent sends me to a world of relaxation and Ozzy Osbourne, but since I've adapted to inhaling, it gives me a Buzz Lightyear of awesome and achievement of something more than I'm actually achieving.

Luckily, I'm smart enough to not inhale all the time. I just do it because I can. Poor reasoning, I know, but at least I'm 18 and DON'T GIVE A FUCK.

Also, I found it fun to play Hell's Bells by AC/DC in the church building yesterday with Joe, and go figure one of the members told me not to play anything AC/DC, Ozzy, etc. So, being me, I start playing Let There Be Rock by AC/DC because I'm a smartass, and I don't give a shit. Everyone judges me anyways. They think I'm a "bad kid" who drinks and smokes pot and whatever. I've never done any of that. I've never tried drugs. I smoke cigars. That's it.

But oh well. I try to be a good person. Sorta.