IT'S NOT BIG

Someone, I cannot remember who, a fellow pipe-smoker in any case, remarked recently that the pipe I was smoking was not large. To which I was somewhat taken aback. Was this a sneer at my presumed manhood in comparison to his? I'm sorry, I did not know that smoking a pipe was about penises. All this time I thought that the reason that most pipes had internal dimensions that were very similar was mostly because of chemistry, burn rates, and optimum enjoyment of the tobacco. Really, I had no idea that it was about glands, hormones, and pheromones.

Well um. Colour me properly diminished.
I'm all shriveled up now.

I will go and whimper sadly in my corner, deflated, me and my small pipe. My quite inferior unmanly sized briar. Perhaps if I acquire a snazzy convertible and a curvaceous trophy blonde it will not be quite so noticeable.


Maybe I should reconsider my teacup, whisky bottle, and the tool I tamp down my tobacco with also? I assure you that my preferred tobacco is normal, the shreds of a near-uniform standard width and length (for their class). No minitude there, no sir!

You want large? There's a mountain nearby.

Well gatverdamme, paskudniak.

If there were a tobacco that suggested Axe Body Spray, this would probably be it. My aged red Virginia flake, with just the right amount of Perique, is just effing drenched with mucho macho manliness. Can't get any more butch than this. It's positively stinking. Radiates the very essence of houndstooth jacket, hunting rifle, and dead lion. Elephants tremble in fear and soil their diapers when I stride across the veld. Hyenas howl in quivering defiance.
The savage wildebeest stampede and flatten a native village.

It encourages the thriving growth of elderberries, of which your mother richly reeks.
Have you ever wondered why that is? She's been mentally hamstered!
She cannot resist the fierce rodential perfume!
Her knees tremble and are wet.
The merest whiff!


Perhaps I should emphasize that pipe size, sports car horsepower, or the jiggly breastiness of a female companion, do not equate to penile endowment, or in fact relate to it or its totally imaginary social worth in anyway at all. Your pipes should, like the bear's porridge, ideally be neither too large or too small, but just right.

Pauline at Drucquers, who had the best pipe collection I ever saw, had briars of a fairly uniform standard size. Generally speaking, Dunhil group 3 and 4, seldom 5. They were exquisite. She herself was a small woman, who always smoked Blend 805.
Which was one of the best tobacco mixtures ever invented.



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