Okay, this is at least one instance where I believe we could/should keep our culture to ourselves. I'm sure the Iraqi women would thank us for it.

I remember when I was 8-9 or so my grandfather gave me a wad of his Red Man...at my insistence, of course. Then he and my uncles (all with full cheeks) laughed at me 10 minutes later as I held onto the the side of the tractor shed and vomited.

Wow...I haven't thought about that in years. Thanks, Donnah.

When I first came over to Miami in '83, I worked at this hotel. People left their spit cups everywhere, or so I thought. I was constantly throwing the things out.
Then I overheard someone saying "Who keeps throwing out our Cuban coffee?"

Yeah, I have to agree we need to keep this particular tradition to ourselves.

Donnah, when I was at Texas A&M, guys used to leave their spit cups on their desks after class.

Of course, when I was about 10 I got stung on the neck by three red wasps and my "mammy" ran out and threw her entire "chaw" on my wounds. The sheer shock of it made me forget my pain. So chaws and dips do have their uses...

There should be a name for that white ring that guys get on their back pocket.