Tonight, in the mood for a fag, I take up my Swan Slimline Filters and break one off from the end in my mouth (I feel like an enormous parasite assailing a tiny host and sucking the shit outta his hole when I do this) when the filter torpedoed to the back of my mouth and bounced daintily in a spiral manner down my throat. I imagine it looked like Luke Skywalker’s proton torpedo going down the exhaust chute on the Death Star, so flukey was it.
I have always had a love hate relationship with filters. It is true, I’m peeved when I come to not having any, but not totally devastated – and once I made a lesbian laugh when I showed her one and told her it was a midget’s tampon.
But tonight – when over the head of a filter my life nearly came to an end – I have decided to stop using filters.
I suppose I should now say how I didn’t end up choking to death on offending filter and turning the colour of a pale Smurf from asphyxiation. I leapt from the chair and stumbled round my living room, knocking over and breaking sundries till I upended myself over the coffee table (all poncey, me) and landed smack down on the floor under the TV. On the TV was Susan Boyle doing her cover of the Stones Wild Horses. She got to an appropriate bit “let’s do some livin’ after we die...” which inspired me to begin thumping myself very hard in the back and chest, like a maverick self harmer, till I’d coughed (now green) filter up.
I know how Bush felt now when he nearly choked to death on that Pretzel (and by the way: if you want to read about how Bush single headedly murdered 17 people, all on the same night, then click here. There’s apparently proof of it, and he had to answer questions about it when he was running to be Texas Governor).
So no more filters for me. I might check out if midgets are issued smaller tampons though and take it from there.