Monthly Archives: February 2014

ECIGS LINKED TO PANDEMIC OUTBREAK


In an article not written today by Clive Bates (and consequently not shared widely via social media) evidence has come to light of a direct link between blinkered ignorance and opposition to vaping, a highly dangerous condition going by the name of Ecigbola or e-Bola.

In order to ensure public safety, he didn’t continue, there is a pressing need to quarantine all members of the World Health Organisation immediately in order to prevent a pandemic of stupid. Clive didn’t say: “Let’s be clear about this, the situation presenting itself is one that calls for direct action on a level with the threat itself.â€

Wikileaks published evidence of the WHO in the full grip of e-Bola. They were caught planning nonsense in a cartoon by a bored executive. “To be honest, we never suspected the man doodling on his notepad in the meeting was paying attention,†said a top ranker.

If you are concerned that you, someone you know or someone you’ve never met but works in a public health capacity may have contracted e-Bola then look for the following telltale signs:

  • Headaches, leading to the wearing a blindfold or closing eyes tightly in the presence of bright evidence.
  • Diarrhoea, mainly verbal when confronted by the media (can be in written form).
  • A loss of appetite, for reasoned discussion.
  • Difficulty swallowing, the truth.
  • Rash, of abusive tweeting.
  • Chest pain, due to being swollen with Big Pharma cash.

Professor Damage, the Imperial University of Japan Tobacco Incorporated, recently completed his WHO-funded-it(?) study into toxins produced by electronic cigarettes. “We decided that the best method was to do away with the traditional time-wasting approach of experimentation and peer-review so we’ve jumped straight to a conclusion,†laughed Damage from his isolated island of evil.

With eyes wide shut and addressing a wall, he added: “We all know that vaping gives you herpes and reverses time so let’s just start being honest about it.â€

Bates didn’t point to this as yet another frightening example of e-Bola stricken ostriches but the analogy is clear: instead of suffocating themselves in sandpits they are parading around making stupid comments for cash. Lots of cash.

“This is why we needed to set up a ‘not quite a celebrity any longer’-driven charity campaign†no one was quoted at a press conference that didn’t happen. “The causes of e-Bola appear to be rooted in the opulence experienced by those in highest public health office and their need to hang on to those Pharma-funded caviar banquets. We have enlisted the support of the popular band Sir Bob and Midge the Lapdog to encourage them to give up their trappings,†no one continued.

Clive Bates has yet to clarify whether e-Bola is a real disease but seeing as this is now on the Internet all indications point to that it is. No representative of the World Health Organisation was available to confirm if they knew it was Christmastime.

“It’s e-Bolatime; there’s no need to be afraid
At e-Bolatime, we let in cash and banish vape

And in our world of plenty we drink champers at the Bolshoi
Throw your hands over your eyes at e-Bolatimeâ€

Does Size Really Matter?


Compare us to any other primate – we have bigger brains and (on average) bigger penises. This is not a comparison I suggest you make in public at a nearby Zoo. As a race we tend to be absorbed by aesthetic rather than pure function. While sucking in our cheeks and looking upwards to cameras for selfies we fix our hair and colour match clothes.

A mod and atty are about the vape and flavour and yet the online world is blossoming for aftermarket parts to enhance your device from drip tips to replacement caps and tinted Pyrex. Post a picture on a forum of your favourite set up…before long someone will say looking at it makes him or her feel violently ill and suggest a way to improve it.

 

*For those interested – bins are a good way of improving the appearance of this device:

 

But does it matter? Of course not, what may look good to you will most certainly offend someone else’s eyes. There’s no best looking device, there’s no playbook of vaping do or do nots.

My problem is that of being ridiculously clumsy. Given, I’m getting better and controlling my limbs again now and it’s happening less frequently, but it’s a given that tall 18650 mods move themselves to a region of maximum clipability every time you aren’t looking.

As someone who works by a computer during the day I’ve got tired of the inevitable swearing session as something (usually with a glass tank) arcs through the air due to my stupidity. So I’ve had a good hunt for alternatives.

Pinky: Gee, Brain, what do you want to do tonight?

Brain: The same thing we do every night, Pinky – try to impose our values over the rest of the eWorld!

I’ve explored the world of 18500s, I journeyed to the centre of 18350s – heck, I even teleported to the land of 14500s for a very short time…a time equal to that of their inability to continually deliver satisfaction. Just like London: many might appreciate them and be fun to visit but I don’t want to live there.

Aesthetically I love the idea of 18350 and 14500 mods, they’re dinky but they’re never going to overthrow the Earth. Narf. The lifespan between charges means I feel I’m constantly swapping batteries out as their useful mAh period vanishes quicker than this week’s magic wire for coils online merchant’s Facebook account.

And so I eventually bit the bullet and did what Megan suggested, I went large.

I can’t say I’m staggered by the increased lifespan of a 26650 but what has been wonderful is the increased pleasure-giving girth. A Mojo Megan is far sturdier on the desk, a Black Oak lays its roots down like a tree standing by the riverside – it shall not be moved.

People say, “Ah yes, Dave, but those things can’t be taken out and about with you – they’re hardly pocket friendly.â€

Maybe those people have small pockets, I don’t know, but placing a 26650-tube mod in your jeans on a night out certainly attracts some interested glances. Like the lovely ladies in the survey point out, there is no one-size-fits-all in life, there’s just whatever makes you happy.

 

 

Dangers


Either by luck or judgement I avoided consuming one of the many liquids stored under the sink as a child, but it’s only time. Friday night is coming and the drinks shelf is empty, creative cocktail thinking is called for when needs must. Quite how I managed to stay alive this long, considering the filtering I did through traffic to get to my last job on my GSX1400, beggars belief.

The papers have a new candidate for a Darwin award every week as they plug their Ego battery into the mains using a charger made from a Blue Peter guidebook (using string, some baking foil and a roll of sticky-backed plastic) and then video themselves impersonating Fantastic 4’s Johnny Storm.

You’d like to think that someone who has a degree would be able to remember to turn the lock button on a mod when setting it down – but I’m typing this very gingerly after leaving the Viggo firing the .4ohm Magma while making a coffee. There’s nothing like grabbing hold of a mod that is approaching the same temperature as the core of the Sun. The body is programmed to automate a drop reflex in such situation. I have discovered that the brain operates an over-ride function when dealing with a valued mod.

Just last night I had sparks flying from the Atmomixani Dome after the positive screw had managed to drill itself through the insulating piece and short to the build deck. Going through my spares kit I had a replacement for everything on the atty except that one item; lucky for me my inability to self-organise stretches to throwing away bits and lo, in my vape kit, I found a suitable replacement.

Apart from the large dose of stupid I consumed for breakfast it would appear I also have magnetic properties. Out in public I attract nutters, my inbox is full of bizarre requests and every single lost piece of Kanthal has now been found. They can located in my left foot…which, had that been the plot of the film of the same name, would have made far more enjoyable viewing; I would be played by Rutger Hauer.

Out of all the dangers I face by far the greatest is the temptation to hurl a genny at the wall. Even Bear Grills would crumble if he had to redo a coil and wick four times before it worked. I suspect the earthquake in Britain this week had something to do with a genny-related tantrum.

Of course, as so often the case, when we think of dangers we focus on the physical. Wild bears, zombie apocalypses and zombie wild bears consume most of my daily worries – but it is the mental anguish which vapers will be most familiar with.

For weeks the children are denied access to food other than beans, forced to hang around Tesco waiting for empty boxes to plug the holes in their shoes and listen to my old LPs instead of downloading Now 251. For weeks they endure deprivation just so I can sit and repeatedly refresh my browser because the greatest atomiser known to mankind.

It is the mental torment that afflicts us because it’s a pain no one can see. Well, no one who isn’t looking through our French windows as the product goes out of stock before Firefox kicks back into life.

And what about the poor vapers who eventually give up waiting, break down and buy something different only to see the object of their dreams suddenly appear on a website but the money has been spent? What support mechanisms do we have in place for them? None, that’s how many.

The MRHA can go on all they want about efficacy of products but what I want to know is are they going to ensure that I can buy a Hellfire? Are they flip. I will keep clicking on the site in the knowledge that the day one is for sale I will be reduced to a wreck of my former self.

Once I couldn’t decide which girl to go out with and so I made a list of pluses and minuses. By the time I’d finished the list the girl who’d won had decided she’d rather be going out with a bloke who owned a Lada – a ten-speed bicycle can’t compete when the stakes are that high.

I have a feeling that a similar situation will happen as I weigh up which mods will have to be sold on. But, on thinking about it, I could always just cut off my left foot and take it to a scrap metal merchant. It’s that or putting the wife on a corner and the last time that happened someone traded her for a used sofa.

All of this pales in comparison with the greatest mental danger that can afflict a discerning vaper; the choice of what atomiser to put on which mod.

If you are fortunate enough to live with one mod and one atty then you are in that blissful monogamistic state, you don’t have to suffer the worry that the drip tip contrasts garishly with the top cap and that people will mock you as you vape in public.

I’ve developed a Mormon approach to device ownership and, like the notion of having more than one wife, it isn’t as carefree as you’d imagine. Just imagine having eight women telling you to put the toilet seat down and put your used pants in the wash basket, not on the floor.

Every…single…day. *Shudders*

All the mods, attys and drip tips demand attention. On my last visit to the doctor she asked me what I thought my major problems in life were. She was clearly not a vaper judging by the brevity of the appointment – but at least I now have a clean bill of health. I probably spend as much time deciding on the mod/atty/tip combo that I do actually vaping the thing. Of course that’s actually a bad thing as it cuts down on having to recoil, injur myself and get more Kanthal jabbed into my flesh.

There ought to be a warning about vaping, someone should seriously get on that.

Dave Cross