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Showing posts from July, 2016
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“Must you smoke your cigar so close to my face, sir?” “Yes, Ms. Plnchot, I must.”

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Alice’s head whirled and she came close to passing out when that sadistic boy from Pinocchio blew his cigar smoke in her face…

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Marion looked on in dismay as old baron Frankenstein lit the tobacco in his ancient pipe..

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Then, the cloud of thick smoke took her…

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“I find a man who smokes a pipe… intimidating. The association with college professors and other authority figures, I guess” “Really? Would you rather I not smoke mine now?” “No. I like feeling intimidated…”

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He puffed pensively on his pipe looking for just the right piece of music for the concert tomorrow night. Thick, languorous strata of pipe smoke drifted by her nostrils in the still air as she handed him sheet after sheet… She was feeling woozy… when would this end?

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Fashionable smoke…

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