Oh, I know it's not right.
Oh, I know it's wrong.
Smoking.
I mean, my mother is a doctor. My brother is a doctor. My father is a health specialist. There are no excuses really. But there's something about smoking.......smoking an apple shisha that has me throwing caution to the wind.
Now don't look at me that way. Now don't start wagging your finger. It's only once every few months that I indulge............... in the legal funny stuff.
I could blame it on the bad influence of my Arab friends. But I rather think it might be the fantastic paraphernalia -- a flashback to bong smoking in the tenth grade. Ahem, I was just watching then, of course.
Why, even the monsters are smoking.
I think I might have to have the world's smallest outdoor shisha lounge at Peacock Pavilions. Where the bohemian troublemakers and I can relax on carpets and cushions outside and watch projector movies. And have a drink and smoke a hookah. Somewhere between the olive trees, the stars overhead.....
PS I have decided to leave my third person persona behind and try speaking to you myself. Hmmm...scary. What if you don't like me?
