My disposable vape adventure.
When I'm not removing and rejecting the raisins from my Bombay Mix, I peer outwards at my narrow window world. I spied a passing pedestrian, portraying themself as a female person, looking identical to early 90s Whigfield, complete with a pukka pair of Scandinavian pigtails. She stopped and dashed backwards behind the private privet, then reappeared some seconds later.
It transpired that she did a double-back to do a double-take at a spent-vape on the pavement.
Having picked up the shimmering vape-ulator ephemera, she examined it and then situated it on my garden wall. Naturally, I immediately dashed out to see what this twinkling thing was, and why..
It transpired that she did a double-back to do a double-take at a spent-vape on the pavement.
Having picked up the shimmering vape-ulator ephemera, she examined it and then situated it on my garden wall. Naturally, I immediately dashed out to see what this twinkling thing was, and why..
It was addictive eye-candy gadgetry known as the alluring 'SKE Crystal Bar' barbarically disposable vape 'stick', alleging to provide six hundred satisfying puffs, dosed with 2% nicotine delivered via a fine misty medium with intense impartations of pineapple, peach and mango molecules. Mirroring Bill Clinton's example, I definitely didn't inhale from this absurd artifact.
Upon internet investigation, this Chinese puffuloid contains a punchy battery. Inevitable dismantling ensued, I discovered an environmental disaster, much worse than the comparatively cleaner jovial Covid test kits. My advice is to suck the minty nicotine lozenges to cease smoking, they worked for me. They crucially break the hand to mouth habit, but my advice is globally despised.
As an ex-smoker / non-vaper, I spied and realised an outrageously ridiculous item. I worked out that by theoretically sucking on this thing like a baby with a dummy, a vacuum switch in the base doth connect, resulting in an atomised release of lusciously lubricating lung-friendly oily glycerols. For a realistic smoking experience, the translucent base illuminates with a 'blue-white hue', to confirm successful suction.
Yonder bluey-white bottom seems to flash, offering a warning of the impending drug drought upon catastrophic completed content consumation, just like real fags. The psychologically vulnerable vapers must be living the dream, reassured by the ease of replacement, even though real tobacco is the nicotine pinnacle.
Yonder bluey-white bottom seems to flash, offering a warning of the impending drug drought upon catastrophic completed content consumation, just like real fags. The psychologically vulnerable vapers must be living the dream, reassured by the ease of replacement, even though real tobacco is the nicotine pinnacle.
A heating element like an expanded metal mesh, but tubular, sits at the base of the pungent juice soaked cylindrical sponge. The resistive element measured 1.2 ohms before I melted it, powered by a 3.7V battery, according to ohms law will draw 3.08 amps, producing 11.4 Watts of pong per puff, satisfaction guaranteed. My fingers and bedroom now smell like a can of Lilt, totally tropical.
At this point, I proclaim a preference to healthy craft beers, rather than vapourised whiffy oils from a Chinese tube.
At this point, I proclaim a preference to healthy craft beers, rather than vapourised whiffy oils from a Chinese tube.
My gifted vacuous vape's battery with flashing disco mini LED still has 3.2 Volts of its 3.7 V capacity. The potent battery is a '13350 type', 500mAh, 1.85Wh, resembling a 2/3 AA battery. It's a lithium polymer rechargeable cell, when 4.2 Volts is thrust in at a rate of 0.2 Coulombs. This battery is far superior than its limited vapourising requirement. I can see how a dodgy vacuum switch could cause this outrageous device to heat up and literally burn a hole in one's pocket.
My vape vexations are unhelpful and a threat to my social safety, yet thoroughly considered and essential to announce.
Adults appear ludicrous with their vape-oid addiction, clutching them close, clenching them to the steering wheel, unable to put these pacifying plastic puffulators down. I'm informed that people now puff their fruity flutes in bed, and if their ever-needy nicotine receptors allow them to sleep, the vape remains 'held in hand'.
Indiscreet infants inhale this sickly smog, they walk to school with E-cig and cell-phone, juggling and chugging the new-normal hypnotic and narcotic, their fidget spinners have been forgotten. Drawn to and deceived by the new sinister 'pseudo sweeties', ape-like creatures are quickly addicted to crud created to end addiction, creating a clinical catastrophe, but what other hope do they have?
Batteries should be sent to the mythical recycling realm and kept out of landfill, but now vacated vapes poison the planet. My specimen displays an icon of a wheelie-bin with an 'X' through it, so instead they'll get ditched in gutters and pushed into bushes. Taken to school then put on my wall, or squashed on the tar by a car.
The highly advanced vapourers successfully tame their self-inflicted demon for a few days, but the rock-hard transparent plastic housing won't begin to degrade for millenia, the 'slightly magnetic' decorative coloured metal alloy tube will languish for a lifetime. The lithium will leach and lurk for yonks, the soil will reek of faux mangos for eternity.
Adults appear ludicrous with their vape-oid addiction, clutching them close, clenching them to the steering wheel, unable to put these pacifying plastic puffulators down. I'm informed that people now puff their fruity flutes in bed, and if their ever-needy nicotine receptors allow them to sleep, the vape remains 'held in hand'.
Indiscreet infants inhale this sickly smog, they walk to school with E-cig and cell-phone, juggling and chugging the new-normal hypnotic and narcotic, their fidget spinners have been forgotten. Drawn to and deceived by the new sinister 'pseudo sweeties', ape-like creatures are quickly addicted to crud created to end addiction, creating a clinical catastrophe, but what other hope do they have?
Batteries should be sent to the mythical recycling realm and kept out of landfill, but now vacated vapes poison the planet. My specimen displays an icon of a wheelie-bin with an 'X' through it, so instead they'll get ditched in gutters and pushed into bushes. Taken to school then put on my wall, or squashed on the tar by a car.
The highly advanced vapourers successfully tame their self-inflicted demon for a few days, but the rock-hard transparent plastic housing won't begin to degrade for millenia, the 'slightly magnetic' decorative coloured metal alloy tube will languish for a lifetime. The lithium will leach and lurk for yonks, the soil will reek of faux mangos for eternity.
Unperturbed by asthma-elevating exploding pocket bombs, building your own vapes has become the new pseudo science of pierced-face grebos. They say "I mix my own juice, me". The best thing to do is work on one's willpower and curtail the oil you inhale, their original creation intention was for smoking cessation, but as the end-times are here - who cares?
If you're into the vaping scene, one must foresee an end to sucking on them. Otherwise, we see evidence of your tiny nicotine receptor domineering your upper limbs.
Maybe submit to desperation and obtain multipacks of disingenuous 'fake foreign fags' from The Contraband King, let's call 'that' YDL744. He'll hook you on hookie health hazards, the compounds of poor combustion will have you returning for more.
Maybe submit to desperation and obtain multipacks of disingenuous 'fake foreign fags' from The Contraband King, let's call 'that' YDL744. He'll hook you on hookie health hazards, the compounds of poor combustion will have you returning for more.