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I have decided to change course here this morning. I am going to use this GUSsack diary to tell you a story. All week long we have been hearing some very good testimonials from former smokers about what smoking has done to them. This is not one of those stories. Parts of this story may or may not be true. The rest I made up on my own.
On a beautiful chilly October morning, a rooster pheasant (WTF?.....) is winding slowly through the prairie grass creating a hidden path that is generally in an East to West direction. All along the path, the pheasant (let's call him Mister Rooster) is shedding rooster pheasant molecules. The rate that Mr. Rooster is shedding rooster pheasant molecules is very slow fortunately, else Mr. Rooster evaporate. The molecules that Mr. Rooster is shedding drop to the ground and the surrounding vegetation or drift off into the gentle breeze. As Mr. Rooster is making this hidden path he eventually passes through a place we are going to call the center point, continues walking slowly west and out of our view for the moment. Some of the pheasant molecules along the hidden path are already starting to disappear either through chemical decomposition or carried away with the breeze.
This very same morning, near the very same place, two other creatures are traveling in a generally South to North direction. Working as a team, they are unknowingly headed for our center point. In the lead for this team is the noble beast, followed by the beast's BgBFF (Big Best Friend Forever). It is a great day for the noble beast because unlike other outings, the BgBFF has brought out the magic thunderstick. It is what the beast lives for. As they make their way through the prairie grass, the beast passes many other hidden paths of molecules shed by creatures on their way to do what ever they do. There have been trails of molecules left by mice, cottontail rabbits, coyotes and raccoons. They are of little interest to the beast today and unknown to the BgBFF on any day. You might be impressed, at this point, of the beast ability to identify the species that created each path of creature molecules. Don't be, not yet. It is small potatoes compared to what is about to come.
The team eventually reaches our center point and the noble beast inhales the first breath of pheasant molecules. The adrenaline surges through the beast. The tail of the beast which was going back and forth signaling the joy of the day now changes to a frantic circular motion. The beast moves a few feet in each direction from the center point investigating each point for residual pheasant molecules. Going east, the beast is able to determine that the level of pheasant molecules is decreasing. To the west, the beast is able to determine the level of pheasant molecules is increasing. Ergo, to whit, to follow the path east will lead to only a long walk. Following the path west leads to mind numbing adrenaline levels, big booms from the thunderstick and a joyous team meeting with the BgBFF rivaling any ninth inning, third out of a seventh game World Series. Unfortunately for Mr. Rooster, the day ends with his carcass being roasted in a bed of wild rice and mushrooms.
This olfactory world of the beast is completely unknown to humans. In a contest, a National Smelling Bee, humans would not have a chance against the beast. A Pee Wee Herman-Mike Tyson title fight would be a nail biting split decision in comparison. Yet, the sense of smell is not completely absent in humans and there is one odor that has become increasingly unacceptable. It is the odor of burnt tobacco and especially the odor of stale burnt tobacco. No longer is the cigarette smoker free to foul the air in public places. Hotels now have designated rooms for cigarette smokers but these soon become so gross even some cigarette smokers do not want to be in them. Most rental car companies prohibit smoking smoking in their rental cars and charge a hefty cleaning fee to offenders. The stench of burnt tobacco is no longer tolerated by society and the smoker is gradually being driven to practice the foul habit of cigarette smoking in private places only.
At home, the near perfect day is coming to an end. The unconsumed remnants of Mr. Rooster have been put away and the evenings dishes carefully stacked in the sink. The noble beast is deep in slumber near the warm glow of the woodstove. A final glass of wine is poured and the BgBFF prepares to kick back. Out come the cigarettes. The first one is lit with a big long draw. The first cigarette is followed by another, and another after that filling the room with a noxious haze. The beast awakes with despair. "Oh no, not again, this really sucks". In spite of sore stiffening muscles, the beast arises and dejectedly moves away to a place as far away from the stench as is possible in the home. So much for the end of a perfect day.
If humans are now finding the odor of burnt tobacco offensive, can you imagine what it is like for the beast? A superior sense of smell in this case is no longer a desired attribute. What kind of an asshole would do this to a beloved companion animal. In case you haven't guessed by now, I am that asshole and I am trying my best to stop it.
How are we all doing today fellow GUSsacks?
One result of yesterday's GUS diary is the creation of the new GUS mascot.
Yes we can!
Update [2009-6-20 10:33:10 by bgblcklab1]:
Thanks for all the recs and tips
In my haste I neglected to provide a list of all the GUSsacks. Here it is copied and pasted from smartcookienyc's diary of yesterday.
Current members of the GUS team! Please comment or email bsmechanic35 at yahoo, if you would like to join, or if your name is here in error
1BQ
amk for obama
bgblcklab1
blue husky
bsmechanic
coppercelt
flumptytail
gchaucer2
Im a frayed knot
interceptor7
khloemi
LarsThorwald
magicsister
MinervainNH
nannyboz
Pennsylvanian
sallycat
seenaymah
smartcookienyc
Wood Dragon
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