So, I figured it out:
I do not have P.A.D. I am simply not thrilled by looking at pipes or owning a bunch of them. I imagine this is what it is like to be a gay man at a women's volleyball game. They look pretty, but there is no connection to me.
Instead, what I have is a vast affection for certain pipes. I have owned a number by now, and some have come and go, through either being passed along or dying ignoble deaths like the cob I dropped off an eight-story building. Actually, I'm not sure how many stories it was, but it was at least nine beers tall, and that cob exploded like a dependa once it hit the ground.
There are some pipes, individual pipes, which just smoke brilliantly. I have a few of these, and find myself quite fond of them, as if they were allies in some quest which will take us over the horizon into uncountable terrors and unending battles.
Part of the reason that I do not have P.A.D., I think, is that I view these pipes as individuals. They are diamonds in the rough, and can be found potentially anywhere, even among the Dr Grabow and Rossi brands. There are just some pipes which turn out better than others, and the quest for these sort of obliterates the idea of P.A.D. itself.
Now T.A.D. is another story. It is like an affliction whose root is not wanting the cure. Only when I can fill a barn with Royal Yacht and burrow into the center and ensconce myself there will I feel the sensation of a cure hovering nearby with this one.
I do not have P.A.D. I am simply not thrilled by looking at pipes or owning a bunch of them. I imagine this is what it is like to be a gay man at a women's volleyball game. They look pretty, but there is no connection to me.
Instead, what I have is a vast affection for certain pipes. I have owned a number by now, and some have come and go, through either being passed along or dying ignoble deaths like the cob I dropped off an eight-story building. Actually, I'm not sure how many stories it was, but it was at least nine beers tall, and that cob exploded like a dependa once it hit the ground.
There are some pipes, individual pipes, which just smoke brilliantly. I have a few of these, and find myself quite fond of them, as if they were allies in some quest which will take us over the horizon into uncountable terrors and unending battles.
Part of the reason that I do not have P.A.D., I think, is that I view these pipes as individuals. They are diamonds in the rough, and can be found potentially anywhere, even among the Dr Grabow and Rossi brands. There are just some pipes which turn out better than others, and the quest for these sort of obliterates the idea of P.A.D. itself.
Now T.A.D. is another story. It is like an affliction whose root is not wanting the cure. Only when I can fill a barn with Royal Yacht and burrow into the center and ensconce myself there will I feel the sensation of a cure hovering nearby with this one.