Reasons to be glad Bill Hicks is dead, and about smoking.

1. He will never utter the words "Lindsay Lohan" or "Harry Potter" (aaargh now they're on my blog)

2. Watching him smoke - especially when he was slim-hipped and thick-haired - was toooo sexy.

Smoking is something I find pretty gross in general and don't have much patience for - it stinks, it's expensive, it does your body grievous damage and causes you to grow cancers blar blar blar - we all know it's crap and you must be mad if you think it's a good idea.

But when a hot guy - one who reeeaaally enjoys smoking - smokes while looking at me, I find it irresistible. Oh, man. I can't look away. I get wriggly thighs and find myself unconsciously touching my mouth and body and imagining him smoking while fucking me... putting a cigarette in his mouth so his hands are both free to shove me back and forth on his cock while he squints through the smoke...

The guy about whom I was quite lovesick earlier this year was practically a chain-smoker. His teeth were stained, his fingers were callused, and he coughed like a blocked grenade launcher. But oh, to watch him smoke was a thing of beauty.

The guy I'm seeing now gave up smoking a couple of months ago because once he heard me say I thought smokers smelled awful. Secretly, though, I'd be stoked to watch him smoke one more time.