Day Thirteen

You know that episode of The Simpsons where Homer has been put on a diet and he’s shouting “Hello?! Taste?!” at a rice-cake? Right now all food is a bit like that. This seems like a feasible side effect to me – if Champix is thwarting the reward receptors in your brain then food is likely to become less tasty. A couple of times I’ve not even realised I’m hungry until my stomach hurt.

You could say this was win/win. I like being thin. Although when I was eight and a half stone and my friend Adam said my face looked like a shovel that probably wasn’t good. I loved it at the time but when I look back on photos I look pretty cadaverous. Not like David Bowie.

Bowie, smoking another fag

The good thing though is that stuff like vegetables, which I can’t always be bothered to cook, actually register on the palate, whereas anything frozen from Iceland is utterly abhorrent. I can hardly finish a bag of crisps. Twirls still hit the spot. Fags too still taste quite nice. Damn.

Yesterday’s fag count: 8

Today’s interesting fact purloined from The Cigarette Book by Chris Harrald & Fletcher Watkins: 3,000,000 ciggies are sparked up every minute in China.