LOL! That goes back 20 or so years and my heavy smoking friend, Billy.
I had recently quit smoking and became annoyed that Billy would light up wherever and whenever he wanted: In the car with the windows rolled up, in the house (mine, others, no matter). Anywhere.
And his cigs seemed to be programmed to send their smoke directly to my face. It was uncanny. I could be on the other side of a 30 foot-wide room, and the cig smoke would be in a line directly from his cigarette, across the room, to my lungs. It looked like a meandering, white piece of fluffy rope.
I used to curse and swear at him, but it didn't do any good. He just kept firing the things up. I developed the term "lung excrement" to let him know how I felt about me inhaling his smoke all the time.