That is to say, I am not ready for that. Screw the world.
I know nothing about this fellow. But if I had a sister, I would not want her to date him. His life-style choices are suspect. Does he rip the wings off little hamsters with his froo-froo tobacco?
Ghastly aromatics have been somewhat popular for decades, because some smokers have always been more into image than any substance. Almost everyone who purchased a long-stemmed pipe after the Lord Of The Rings movies habitually smokes fruit salad blends.
When I smoked one of my Charatans recently, I discovered a ghosting of something too sweet, probably from when I was intellectually curious about a popular product a while back.
A regrettable incident, I'm sure, and I must have wiped my mind clean of it.
The dark musty earthiness of aged pressed Virginias, combined with the tanginess and pinot noir evocation of reds, or the creosote and terpeneol oomph of Latakia, plus resinous Turkish leaf, or fermentive Perique, should in various measures provide more than enough attraction that fruit candy flavours need not be steam-baked into any leaf.
There is nothing intellectually stimulating about cherry.
It makes a good pie. And a lousy tobacco.
The world is dreadful enough.
If I had a sister she'd probably smoke HH Old Dark Fired and Peterson's Perfect Plug.
No fruits, just good tobacco. Perhaps while reading a Marguerite Yourcenar book.
No Tolkien whatsoever.
That's all you need to know about my imaginary sister.
TOBACCO INDEX
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