First half of the bowl was really enjoyable, and not just because I felt sleazy blowing it out and my coworker kept exclaiming "dang, you trollop, what the heck, shee that craps nasty smells like pimp in here you're a monster".
And similar blandishments.
It was sort of like inhaling an entire box of the dried California dates that relatives used to send over when we lived in Holland. Later they started mailing us gift boxes of fruit preserves for Christmas instead, and I still fondly remember the neon green one. What fruit was that?
My mom would have preferred me not to eat it.
The unnatural hue freaked her out.
It wasn't bad at all.
Kind of fruity.
The second half of the bowl was not so enjoyable, verging on bitter and putrid, but not in a very good way.
That was five days ago, and the bowl of that briar still has a whiff of massage parlour.
Gonna repeat the experiment this coming Sunday, same pipe.
There may be a follow-up post.
Or not.
In any case, because the whole thing reminded me of perspiring wrestlers, here's a video of every gringo's favourite luchador:
DOOMP, DOOMP, DOOMP, DOOMP, DOOMP.
DURLAKTO, DURLAKTO, DURLAKTO.
THE SYSTEM ... IS DOWN!
[SOURCE: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zx1eDmuYQg8.]
Aromatic pipe tobaccos still confuse me. There's something about the honest old-fashioned reek of unflavoured leaves that is immensely evocative, why would you bugger it up with a teenage hooker smell?
If you don't like the taste of tobacco, maybe you shouldn't smoke?
You could just use a nicotine patch......
Doomp, Doomp, Doomp.
Doomp, Doomp, Doomp.
Doomp, Doomp, Doomp.
Doomp, Doomp, Doomp.
Durlakto.
TOBACCO INDEX
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