Puff, puff, puff – puff until ya die …

That’s what I used to do many decades ago –
a proud sophisticated 3-packs-of-unfiltered-camels-a-day jerk  –
until I decided I really didn’t like all that blackish brown shit I loogied out as
my day’s first act every morning.  I was lucky – I really was:  one morning around
1970 or 1971 I just quit. It wasn’t planned, and it wasn’t that hard, actually.  But I do
sympathize with those for whom it’s the traditional bitch they know they have to
dump but can’t seem to let go of!  Years later when I got into fooling around
with doing some art I hit on this probably not very original idea,
and tried this gentleman, about as pretty …

… as pretty as he’d be at the visitation!