The first time I picked up a cigarette, I was probably six years old. It was late morning, mid-summer, and the babysitter had let us kids out into the park next to her home while she returned inside to begin…
Sorry, Smokers. The Death Panels Were Real I’m the sort of person who volunteers to fill out forms. It’s a bizarre personality trait, but one of the few things I can offer to the people I like. So, when a…