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[MENTION=13402615]PeeJay[/MENTION]. Yes I do, although when I smoke it tends to be at dusk, but still great watching the swirl of smoke patterns under artificial lighting - not the same as natural light, but still enchanting to watch
[MENTION=13402510]ValeTudoGuy[/MENTION].....you made me laugh out loud with that remark
Yeah! Watch the eddy's in the smoke. Watching it crawl up the cigar. Try to blow smoke rings and watch the mess. Amazing how mathematical models of eddy currents even exist... The mind does wonder sometimes! .....
Sent from the interwebz
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I think I may finally have this CAD under control...
Wee, toothy, glis'nin, juice'ious Montie,
O, what a panic's in my travel humi!
Thou need na start a smoke sa hasty,
Wi' bickering tramps a yonder ert'covered smoking area!
I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee,
Wi' murd'ring pattle, so as not foler ruinois grimy fag smoke wouldn'waft!
I'm truly sorry puro's dominion,
Has broken cigarette smokers social union,
An' justifies an ill opinion,
Which makes thee startle
At me, thy poor, hand rolled companion,
An' mos-coveted pocket'possesion!
I doubt na, fullness of fill, but thou may burn wonkey at slightness o wind;
What then? poor beastie, thou jet'flame live!
A daimen morsel in a boli'cave
'S a sma' request;
I'll get a blessin wi' the leaves,
An' never miss't!
Thy wee bit tripple capper, too, in ruin!
It's silly wa's the cutt'rs are strewin!
An' naething, now, to big a new ane,
O' foggage brown!
An' bleak December's winds ensuin,
BOTL's sniffin an' keen!
Thou saw Cuban fields laid bare an' waste,
An' nown weary English winter comin fast,
An' cozie here, beneath the covered smoking area,
Thou thought to dwell-
Till bleugh! the cruel tramp piss
Out thro' some sham doth Wiggan dropping a fine puro inneth the steaming drench.
That wee bit heap o' leaves an' stibble,
Has cost thee mony an make Mitch most happy!
Now thou's turn'd out, for a' sly puro,
But house or hald,
To thole the winter's sleety dribble,
An' cranreuch cauld!
But, Montie, thou art not my last,
In proving foresight may be vain;
The best-laid schemes o' Monties an'men
Gang aft agley,
An'lea'e us nought but grief an' pain upon momentary stock o'finding m'friend smoken thou only reserva so'gran,
Oh For promis'd joy, what a smoke it could have been!
Still thou art blest, compar'd wi' me
The jetflame only toucheth thee:
But, Och! I backward cast my e'e.
On prospects drear!
An' forward, tho' I canna see,
I guess an' fear, blocketh with a plug are thee wee bastard!
Licky Licky before Sticky Sticky. - Puff Scotty 22/03/14
Wee, toothy, glis'nin, juice'ious Montie,
O, what a panic's in my travel humi!
Thou need na start a smoke sa hasty,
Wi' bickering tramps a yonder ert'covered smoking area!
I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee,
Wi' murd'ring pattle, so as not foler ruinois grimy fag smoke wouldn'waft!
I'm truly sorry puro's dominion,
Has broken cigarette smokers social union,
An' justifies an ill opinion,
Which makes thee startle
At me, thy poor, hand rolled companion,
An' mos-coveted pocket'possesion!
I doubt na, fullness of fill, but thou may burn wonkey at slightness o wind;
What then? poor beastie, thou jet'flame live!
A daimen morsel in a boli'cave
'S a sma' request;
I'll get a blessin wi' the leaves,
An' never miss't!
Thy wee bit tripple capper, too, in ruin!
It's silly wa's the cutt'rs are strewin!
An' naething, now, to big a new ane,
O' foggage brown!
An' bleak December's winds ensuin,
BOTL's sniffin an' keen!
Thou saw Cuban fields laid bare an' waste,
An' nown weary English winter comin fast,
An' cozie here, beneath the covered smoking area,
Thou thought to dwell-
Till bleugh! the cruel tramp piss
Out thro' some sham doth Wiggan dropping a fine puro inneth the steaming drench.
That wee bit heap o' leaves an' stibble,
Has cost thee mony an make Mitch most happy!
Now thou's turn'd out, for a' sly puro,
But house or hald,
To thole the winter's sleety dribble,
An' cranreuch cauld!
But, Montie, thou art not my last,
In proving foresight may be vain;
The best-laid schemes o' Monties an'men
Gang aft agley,
An'lea'e us nought but grief an' pain upon momentary stock o'finding m'friend smoken thou only reserva so'gran,
Oh For promis'd joy, what a smoke it could have been!
Still thou art blest, compar'd wi' me
The jetflame only toucheth thee:
But, Och! I backward cast my e'e.
On prospects drear!
An' forward, tho' I canna see,
I guess an' fear, blocketh with a plug are thee wee bastard!
hahah brilliant that! nicely done that cheered me up this morning...
When I was a ninja smoker ( ex. did not approve !! ) I would at times drive about for ages just to find somewhere out of the wind.
Now ( ?current? love of my life is cool about smoking, as long as it?s outside ) I can enjoy the leaf at home, but the conditions still need to be just right ..... plastic weather blinds drawn / a chair in the tool shed or whatever, as long as the smoke can be enjoyed as it casually dances about.
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