That reminds me of my first job. I cleaned office buldings at night. One day I and another guy were assigned the task of cleaning ceiling tiles on one particular floor. I was absolute amazed at how badly stained they had gotten from years of multiple smokers. Of course, since I was only sixteen and still invinceable, it didn't do anything to stop me from smoking. As I recall, we never finished that job. Instead, the tiles were replaced.
wow, thats gross.
somewhere, buried in a junk box, is a WL '71 El Camino that I purchased in a Lot of cars, its a postal white, and the packaging is all yellow and dirty.
Makes me wonder if it was exposed to a chain smoking collector.