Unfortunately, I smoke fags.
It's a terrible affliction; one day I hope to escape it's deadly grasp.
However, today, my step towards rehab took one massive step back.
I walked into the local Morrisons and was not-literally blinded by the array of Sparkly fag packets on offer. Mainly down to the big roll-shutter that hid them.
I must have had a premonition, because I asked for a "packet of 20 Sterling " (the 21'st century version of the Noughties L&B, or the 80's and 90's B&H).
From behind the 'YOU MUST NOT SEE' curtain, I was presented with a shimmering cardboard box of absolute enticement: a cardboard box of fags that were somehow a "Limited Edition".
It was like being a Charlie winning the Golden Wonka Ticket.
At this point, salivating and ever more hungry for nicotine, I ripped off the clear plastic outer shell, taking care not to damage any part of this precious parcel.
Once inside this potential Glory Hole, I summoned every ounce of dexterity and eventually removed a cigarette.
Lighting it with my "Special" Poundland lighter (6 FOR A QUID), turned the whole experience into a ceremony akin to the taking of sacrificial wine by Kamikaze pilots.
It tasted like a cheap, crap fag.
And there were 18, not 20 inside.
Whoo fr**king hoo