There are two types of people in Britain: those who smoke, and those who wonder how anyone still does.
Seriously — in an age where we’ve got phones that recognise our face, cars that park themselves, and kettles controlled by apps, we’re somehow still voluntarily setting fire to leaves and sucking the smoke into our lungs like it’s a personality trait. And paying forty quid a pouch for the privilege. At this point, it’s not a habit, it’s performance art.
Smoked Out: A Free Perfume You Never Asked For
Let’s talk about smoker etiquette — or more specifically, the total lack of it. Smokers flick their ash and stub their butts like they’re sending tiny, burning messages to Mother Earth: “I don’t recycle, and I’m proud.”
And they seem blissfully unaware that exhaling smoke in public is essentially forcing everyone else to share their bad decision. You wouldn’t walk up to a stranger and breathe sausage roll vapour directly into their face, so why is Marlboro Mist somehow acceptable?
Child Endangerment: Now in Cherry Menthol
Nothing quite boils the blood like seeing a parent puffing away in the car, windows up, kids strapped in the back like unwilling contestants in Britain’s Got Bronchitis. The ignorance isn’t even wilful anymore — it’s just plain selfish. Fifty years ago, people didn’t know. Now? It’s printed on the packet in letters so big, they could double as road signs. Smoking Kills. And still, Karen’s parking up outside school pick-up like it’s 1984.
Tobacco Tax – Britain’s Most Dysfunctional Subscription Service
£40 for a packet of tobacco. Forty. That’s not a hobby, that’s a financial commitment. You could sponsor a child, take a train to Edinburgh, or buy two pints and a half in London. And yet, people are queueing up at corner shops to hand over their lungs and their wages.
Which begs the question: why doesn’t the government just ban smoking altogether? Well, because the tax is paying for half the NHS and probably the Downing Street wine fridge too. It’s like a dodgy deal where one hand says, “Smoking’s bad,” while the other’s happily taking the cash and asking if you’d like a carrier bag.
Pub Entrances: Now With Bonus Passive Aggression
Ah yes, the smoking ban. A long-overdue win for lungs everywhere. Pubs became less like lung carcinogen casinos and more like actual places to relax. Except now you’ve got to hurdle through a smoky picket line just to get in.
There they stand, loyal to the last puff, huddled round the door like it’s a religious site. Vaping, smoking, chatting, all while blasting their toxic fog into the faces of anyone foolish enough to fancy a pint of something non-lethal. It’s like walking through a scented candle shop if all the candles were made of regret and carbon monoxide.
Healthy Food: The Government’s Inside Joke
Now, while we’re having a good cough — let’s talk food. Ever noticed how a bag of oven chips costs 79p but a punnet of blueberries is approximately the same price as a small hatchback? There’s something properly broken about a society where a multipack of crisps is cheaper than an apple per unit.
It’s almost like the government wants people to eat badly — and then smoke, and then need the NHS. Full circle. A public health ouroboros chewing its own tail while holding a Maccy D’s.
Poor Choices vs Poor Options
People like to pretend it’s all about personal responsibility. “They should just eat healthier,” they say — usually while nibbling a scotch egg or giant mars bar. But when you’ve got £3.20 to feed your family, and the choice is a bag of frozen pizza or two sticks of overpriced organic asparagus, it’s not about choices. It’s about options. Or rather, the total lack of them.
Final Puff (Not Yours, Hopefully)
So here we are. Still walking through smoke clouds outside pubs, dodging tossed cigarette butts like nicotine confetti, and wondering how people are still choosing lung rot over life in 2025. The science is clear. The prices are absurd. The only mystery left is why it’s still happening.
Maybe the government will eventually step up. Or maybe they’ll keep relying on smokers to fund the healthcare needed by… smokers. That’s one hell of a business model. Circular, toxic, and somehow still socially acceptable — much like those e-scooters that zoom up behind you on the pavement.
Until then, I’ll be over here — not smoking, not coughing, (occasionally having a Maccy D) and definitely not paying £40 to smell like burnt furniture.
