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Quitting Dip

Doc

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  1. Back in the day, from 1990 - 1998. I thought it was cool to use a spittoon. I'm talking a large, brass, on the floor spittoon. Bought at an antique shop. It was dented, and a piece of shit, but I pounded the dents out and polished it. That fucking thing held AT LEAST a quart, and I kept it right next to my recliner. The side of my fucking recliner had trails of brown down the fabric (no shit). Now during this time we had a growing pack of dogs. Being the dumbshit that I was, I didn't empty the spittoon until near full. The dogs, however emptied it more than once by plowing into it playing. When we moved in '98, I finally agreed with my wife's pleadings and threw the spittoon away. That was when I gently eased into gutting my spit ... and did so until finally quitting in 2014 after 32 years. I know ... I'm fucking gross. How I held onto my wife throughout this period of life I have no idea. Grateful to be quit, and distancing myself from the evil weed that came in the form of Copenhagen.

    According to some photos I've seen, you held on to her by the tits.

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