Smokin’ ‘Em While I Got ‘Em
My name is Paul Constant, and I write the Party Crasher column for The Stranger. Also, I’ve smoked a pack of cigarettes a day for the past twelve years. But that’s going to change this weekend.
On Sunday, January 8th, I will begin to quit smoking, and I will be Slogging the entire process. Every obsessive thought, mental breakdown, and disgusting bodily secretion will be recorded daily, for the education and edification of our readers. In addition, I hope to quit smoking while simultaneously losing the ten or fifteen pounds of holiday weight that I have gained this year. I also hope to gain the powers of flight, super-hearing, and the ability to breathe underwater like Aquaman.
My method for achieving smobriety is Bupropion (byoo-PROE-pee-on), commonly known as Wellbutrin or Zyban, an anti-depressant that has shown considerable success in smoking cessation studies. It also has side effects as varied and unpleasant as insomnia, strange body odor, the development of body hair in weird new places, painful erections, and the disturbingly vague “unusual ejaculations.” So check back in on Sunday, when I begin to document the amazing, undignified journey to the mental landscape where people don’t have to pay six dollars a day in order to not feel cranky. And if none of this interests you and you’ve read all the way to the bottom of this post, here, for your trouble, is a photo of (allegedly) Paris Hilton scratching at a particularly difficult crotch-itch. Thank you for your time.