A Love Letter

Dear Tobacco,

I know that you haven't had the easiest time recently, and I know that sometimes it must be hard to go on. You must be feeling that you've been singled out, been made a scapegoat. I am writing to let you know that I have never believed the lies they tell about you. This bullshit consensus about your effects is hardly backed up by the medical literature; you and I both know that. Meanwhile, exorbitant taxes have out-priced you for anyone below a certain income level. It's a clear case of economic discrimination - like the poll tax, except not as racist(or is it...?)

You have never been anything but a good friend to me. You celebrated the good times with me and were there to cheer me up during the bad. You helped me escape innumerable awkward situations and parties. What's more, without you I wouldn't have made so many great friends. For instance, when Andrew and I first met, our clandestine smoke breaks during free period brought us together and forged an invaluable friendship.

I know that Mike Bloomberg doesn't want us to see each other anymore, but fuck him. He can't keep true love down.

Take heart, Tobacco -- you have not been forgotten. There are still over a billion of us in the world. And the next time you start feeling depressed, ask Alcohol to tell you about Prohibition.

Love, Luke