At the back of the hill

Warning: If you stay here long enough you will gain weight! Grazing here strongly suggests that you are either omnivorous, or a glutton. And you might like cheese-doodles.
BTW: I'm presently searching for another person who likes cheese-doodles.
Please form a caseophilic line to the right. Thank you.

Saturday, May 30, 2015


On one of the pipe-smoking internet sites a war is ongoing between people who insist they were defrauded, and someone whom I believe to be a Dutch-speaker who may have (and probably did) defraud them.
As you can guess, I am not unbiased in this affair.

I am extremely partisan.

Primarily because in his many photos, the Dutchman looks like an arrogant dick and poseur, at whom I would instinctively sneer and whose company I would not seek, whereas the photos I've seen of a pipe-maker and collector whom he did not pay and sicced the hounds on make her seem like a bright and in fact adorable young woman.

Oh yes, that first picture got me going full-bore internet snoop.
Lovely face, kissy cheeks, sensuous lips.
Expressive eyes.

There are, however, at least three reasons why I will never send her a marriage proposal.

1) She's already taken.
2) Lives on the other side of the country.
3) Smokes aros.

The true gentleman never poaches; it is not likely that we'd ever meet; and aromatics somewhat appall me. Still, in this rather bitter war between various pipe-smokers and the Dutchman, I favour her side.
Female pipe collectors and pipe makers must be treasured.
They are infinitely precious.

The tobacco she admits to smoking at the time one of the pictures was taken is Molto Dolce, by Sutliff. Which is described reliably as an oily blend with a "rich creamy texture of vanilla, caramel and honey".
Contains Black Cavendish, Burley, and Virginia.
In a ribbon cut.

Okay. That sounds incredibly nasty.

I myself have on recent occasions smoked aromatics, as a matter of professional curiosity. A few were actually quite satisfying, albeit far too moist and requiring six or seven eight or nine second pulses in a microwave to make them usable.

A few others were somewhat confounding.

And several were so unbelievably horrid that they induced despair and angst, good lord how could anyone think this was worth offering to the public why do they hate us?

Even though Sutliff has roots in the Bay Area, I do not consider them as deserving positive mention or loyalty. I shall say no more about them, because the truth hurts and I do not want to get sued.

In all honesty: bugger the aros.

Tobacco should never smell like Hello Kitty's underwear.

Aromatics are a very large part of the business, more's the pity, and a merchant of smokeables would be foolish to disregard such products, or their legion of misguided (and possibly insane) aficionados.
But there is no real reason to encourage them either.
Many need electro-shock or medication.
Some of them, a dominatrix.
Water boarding.

Just because all the finest priests bang altar boys is no reason for you to emulate those sainted men. Creatively frustrated housewives still drink International Coffee, do you? Curious infants often stick found objects in their mouths, is that a good idea?

Congressmen bend pages.

I'll admit to sometimes enjoying certain aromatics, but I am a trained professional and a deviant. You should not try it yourself.

Here's a short list of flavours that can be found:

Cherry, English Toffee, Vanilla & Honey, Nuts & Vanilla, Pistachio Melba, Coconut Almond, Apple, Chocolate, Apricot, Butter Pecan, Buttered Rum, Bananas & Cream, Dulce de Leche, Butterscotch, Vanilla Latte, Orange, Tiramisu, Praline, Mango-raspberry, Pumpkin Spice, Jamaican Rum, Midori Melon, Hazelnut, Fruit Tart, Toffee, Honeysuckle.

If your tobacconist suggests any of these, kindly disregard the dear man. Either he's addled, or out of touch with reality.

And maybe he's married.


NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.

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