Lollipops and rowing eights

"Nico-Pops. 4mg. Roll sucker around in mouth when urge for cigarette arises and until urge passes."
These things are GOOD. I think I've found a stop-smoking that will actually work. They come with this nifty child-proof bottle and child-proof zipper pouch to store the suckers in-between licks. How many licks does it take to quit smoking? One, two-hoo, thrrrreee... yeah, way more than three.

I think I may have done too much today. I had math, which I didn't want to skip, so my friend Daniel picked me up and drove me to school. He even carried my bag for me. Aww, wasn't that sweet? Still, I hurt. Every bump to and from school felt as though my insides were in the ring with Mike Tyson. Now I can't get comfortable. I still feel bloated, and I'm a bit swollen.

I tried to read Great Apes by Will Self, a book Daniel thought I might enjoy. I didn't make it past the first paragraph before I had my first "what the fuck" moment. Maybe you can translate:

Simon Dykes, the artist, stood, rented glass in hand, and watched as a rowing eight emerged from the brown brick wall of one building, slid across a band of grey-green water, and then eased into the grey concrete of another building.

Say what?