Fag Hags: Why Quitting Smoking is So Hard for Women

Hello, boys and girls. Cartola is back in the building! Due to a long, extended abscence directly proportional to the fact that no one ever reads this shit and, surprisingly, the rise in my malpractice suits, it turns out removing molars because they are just plain dirty is not legitmate dental practice, I have been blogging less than usual (read: not at all). Yet Cartola, is back in business. And he has some cultural musings.

I see a lot of smokers come into my dental practice everyday. Their mouths are horrid and most of them are women that I have affectionately termed "buttermouths." (Go ahead and steal my term blogosphere!) I have found that these women are extremely hot, but have a mouth like a fifteen-year-old unclean sewer pipe that has to be snaked with a metal rod. Hence, a buttermouth defined, although often-times extremely hot and doable by Cartola standards, can be ruled out for various unclean and probing sexy times in the dental chair.

So what accounts for this confluence of smoking among women and why do they find it so hard to quit? I pondered this thought on this beautiful, slightly cloudy day off as I went for my daily smoking jog, my smog; that's right Cartola is nothing if not despicably hypocritical. According to Kristyn Kusek Lewis in her article "How four women quit smoking -- and you can too" in Health, "... women, it turns out, have an even harder time quitting than men: They seem to experience stronger withdrawal symptoms, perhaps because of hormones or the bigger nicotine dose delivered to smaller female bodies." I call bullshit on this because Lewis is a woman and I am always right, being a man with a larger male body.













Smoking, it turns out, is bad for both men and women. Deal with it. If you are going to make excuses for smoking, don't use the whole glass ceiling, gender argument. Hillary Clinton is a cunt by the way who should have left her husband and his cigar smoking to the oval office. Smoking is largely mental, if I wanted to quit I could quit. There would be three or four days of withdrawal symptoms and then I would be so fresh and so clean, clean. I just choose to be dirty and unhealthy like these women with oral fixations and too, too high standards. Boo-hoo I can't find a man. Maybe if you stopped phellating guys named "Top Gun" that hang out at the White Eagle on Green Street, you could land a decent, respectable man.

In conclusion, stop smoking if you want to or maybe just so your dentist doesn't have to scrape off years of yellow tar from your teeth with a sharp, scrapy metal instrument. What the hell is that thing called anyways, a pain stick? Ugh. Unsexy. Fucking buttermouths. Fucking fag hags. Fucking women.

Time for a smoke. Cartola out.