Dang cigar-huffing Roger Moore. You know, those Montecristos he was sucking down ran into thousands of pounds a day, shooting.
It's kind of funny, in the non-Fleming Bond novels (I've read them all, and some are fine, some are even just about as good as Fleming's stuff, particularly Benson's set), Bond switches cigarette brands (Gardner, for no good reason), and then gives up smoking for a while. For his health, you know.
It never really seemed right, though.
Also, there're times when Moore comes off as a cold-hearted bastard as well -- he's the first Bond to shoot a woman, and there's a scene in, I believe, Moonraker in which he has a guy holding onto his tie, the tie being the only thing holding him balanced on the edge of a building, about to fall. As soon as he answers Bond's question, Bond knocks the tie out of his grasp and he falls to his death. All in all, however, Moore is mostly too goofy for me.