"Wearing a turtleneck is like being strangled by a really weak guy, all day. Wearing a backpack and a turtleneck is like a weak midget trying to bring you down." - Mitch Hedburg
Today's phrase that pays (I paid $2.49 for this stogie) is mild trespasses.
Today's Cigar:
Quorum - Nicaraguan Blend - Ecuador Connecticut Wrapper - Churchill
Still pre-light but now capless, the draw is dusty and nothing delineates clearly. Result stays pleasant enough. Draw feels to be on the right side of the tracks. I commence to the
Lighting this stick is a careful proposition, as it seems to want to get toasted and to do so in a hurry. A medium volume plume of previously undetected and cluttered spices are duly noted. They subside some after the first couple three draws, but remain a part of this stogie's hazy style.
The First third showcases a robust finish that almost overly sweetens on the palate and lasts straight through to the next puff. Cloudy. The cigar is a vague cloudy. I am on my Pacific Northwest porch and realize that this cigar is aping the weather. Overcast, unclear, et cetera. I am fogged in. Worse things have happened, still. I mean, I am on my porch, I am smoking a cigar.
The way it burns is the way it lit: quickly and for the most part evenly. Finish becomes mildly perfume-y. Ash holds fast. Falls in off in a clump at the close of the first third.
The second third remains all about the finish, and the finish ain't fine. Although at times, it is. It soon settles into an inconsistent spectrum ranging from not quite sweet to not quite bitter. I'm not quite impressed. I'm not quite depressed. There is a crack in the wrapper.
I believe there to be a crack in the wrapper. Smoke has been greatly reduced to my smoke-hole. However, I spy with my own little eye, no perceptible leak. Bitterness increases - or at least that's what I first notice. Secondly, I am aware the flow of smoke to my smoke-hole has increased. The output of smoke into G-d's green earth increases, too. It's aroma is feh. From start to finish, feh. Only its volume varies, and vary it does.
This cigar is all about trespasses so mild that they are hard to put a finger on. I put a finger on the crack. No heat escapes and it does not improve the again weak-ish draw. It sheepishly moves from almost miserable to almost serviceable. This cigar needs a mood stabilizer. I begin to feel as though I might need a mood stabilizer on account of this cigar. THIS CIGAR IS SUPPOSED TO BE MY MOOD STABILIZER.
This cigar is all about trespasses so mild that they are hard to put a finger on. I put a finger on the crack. No heat escapes and it does not improve the again weak-ish draw. It sheepishly moves from almost miserable to almost serviceable. This cigar needs a mood stabilizer. I begin to feel as though I might need a mood stabilizer on account of this cigar. THIS CIGAR IS SUPPOSED TO BE MY MOOD STABILIZER.
Crazymaking: a form of domestic abuse wherein a partner sets you up to lose by causing self doubt in order to gain control. Thankfully, this cigar is not, in fact, domestic - it is a Nicaraguan blend.
At the end of the second third there is an attempt at nuttiness that ends in bittering up the finish. Trespasses remain mostly mild as does my enjoyment. The ash falls of in a second clump and the bitterness has not hit for a bit. Perhaps, I think, I overstated the bitterness. Perhaps, I think, a smooth finish is in order. The phone rings, it's my mother, I ignore it. This cigar hates when I talk to mom. I realize I haven't seen my friends in...how long?
The final third sees the chew breaking in nicely. Nicely enough that I begin to leave the stick in my stick-hole. It takes me an unusually long time to realize that this burns my nose hairs. More cracks form. When did the bitterness return, whenever it did, it was more bitter than ever. It burns hot enough to hurt my lip. I am only halfway through the last third.
The final third sees the chew breaking in nicely. Nicely enough that I begin to leave the stick in my stick-hole. It takes me an unusually long time to realize that this burns my nose hairs. More cracks form. When did the bitterness return, whenever it did, it was more bitter than ever. It burns hot enough to hurt my lip. I am only halfway through the last third.
I tell myself it will straighten out. It will be sweet again. It will buy me flowers, take me out for a lovely dinner, whisper all the right things in my ear...
For now, though, my lip is burnt. My nose hairs singed, and my palate too bitter to carry on. It strikes me in a moment of clarity that I might not survive to again see the sweetness of this cigar. I place it in my ashtray and leave it there.
I am writing this from a Safe House.
Yours in the Brotherhood of the Leaf,
Ira Goldfeld
PS: pairings I'd recommend are restraining orders, handguns - because restraining orders are only pieces of paper, and a good defense attorney.
PS: pairings I'd recommend are restraining orders, handguns - because restraining orders are only pieces of paper, and a good defense attorney.
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Domestic abuse is a very serious matter.
Get help/info at 1.800.799.SAFE(7233) or
The National Domestic Violence site HERE.