Fumus
Well-known member
- Joined
- Nov 24, 2014
- Messages
- 384
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Last December I posted my first foray into the world of bombing, explaining how I had stealthily swooped down on an unsuspecting older gentleman in my neighborhood named Norbert and blasted him with a pouch of Prince Albert. As was also explained in that post, Norbert retaliated with raised eyebrows quickly followed by an ear to ear grin, and then proceeded to tell me stories about when he was a younger man, pipe smoking and an old Irishman he used to know. Since then I have made it a point to look for Norbert whenever I go by his place, and when possible join him for a pipe and to listen to more stories. The other day my wife and I were taking a walk through the neighborhood when we spotted Norbert coming up the sidewalk towards us. He makes a circuit around his block at least once or twice a day with his walker, old black nose warmer with the cracked bowl firmly clamped between his teeth, occasional puffs of smoke trailing in his wake. As we approached, he smiled and as per usual the conversation immediately went to pipes. He explained that his doctor was urging him to give up his pipes because "that pipe tobacco is poisonous you know". Norbert and I both agreed that it must be a fairly slow acting poison, since he has been smoking his pipes for longer than I've been alive and is still in pretty good health. I suggested that it might be a good thing that pipe tobacco is so poisonous. Otherwise, some of these old codgers would probably wind up living for ever if it weren't for the years and years of exposure to that terrible weed. "No" said Norbert. "Sooner or later the old women would get tired of them and just knock em in the head." When I asked Norbert what his response to his doctors advise had been, he said that he told him he couldn't give up his pipe, "cause that's what holds my false teeth in". 
