Monday, September 29, 2008

Rock n roll suicide

And she said, smoke, smoke, smoke that cigarette. Puff, puff, puff and if you smoke yourself to death, tell St. Peter at the Golden Gate that you hate to make him wait but you just gotta have another cigarette.

Truth be told, I'd quite like to do just that right about now. Unfortunately, it happens that I'm as sick as a parrot. And as that persistent cough continues to do amazing job at restraining me from smoking any fragrant tobacco, I've been left in a limbo of daydreams. Chocolate and cigarettes, cigarette holders and matches.

The Dreamers by Bernardo Bertolucci

For the interest of those who can, and do, smoke (or even if you don't), the cult tobacconist Sol Levy is an adventure into a world long gone. They sell pipes, delicious tobaccos, cigars and cigarette holders not unlike Eva Green's in The Dreamers. And everything a smoker could dream of. They will even mail order, for those of you outside Sydney.
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