It has come to my realization as of, oh, 10 seconds ago that I’ve been strutting around all afternoon with my lens cap in the back pocket of my jeans, creating a prominent circle on my buttocks.
Exhibit A: The Tobacck Pocket.
For those of you who may have ran across me today, or perhaps were, for some godforsaken reason gandering at my hind quarters during this event, I’d like to elucidate on several points:
a) I am not, nor will ever be a tobacco chewer. This I know.
II) Just because you may or may not have witnessed me purchasing a can of spearmint Skoal longcut for an underage acquaintance back in 2006 ONCE does not make your case against me just. Trust me, the looks I received during that purchase were enough to keep me away from tobacco for LIFE.
3) Even if I did attempt to purchase tobacco again, despite presenting proper identification I still do not believe that they’d sell it to me based on my severe lacking of height and/or evidence that I look like I’m 12.
With that, I will cease to defend my nicotine sobriety and rest my case. I shall remove the lens cap from my pocket and carry on as if none of this ever occured.
happy trails — !
jc
approximatelyes.com 