Monday, June 21, 2021


Earlier today I fussed with some old corncob pipes. Burley blends sing in cobs. Normally Burley blends, while intellectually delightful, tend to wallop me out of my socks, so I seldom smoke them. They were more popular earlier, up untill the World War. The reason was that Burley was cheap and plentiful, and Virginias were a valuable export crop, or used in the finest cigarettes.
Burley probably kept weights down and waists slim.

Since then I found a tin of Haunted Bookshop I had never finished.
So after lunch (a thick cut chop, which I cooked perfectly), I went outside to shoot varmints and skin confederates, so to speak. Yeehaw, podner, yeehaw.
I was still smacking from the chop.

Blend by Bob Runowski, produced by Cornell & Diehl.
Burley, Kentucky, Perique, and Virginia.

Very earthy, and robust, with minor spice. A strong blend, clean burning. Pungent. Powerful. Peppery and full. Like somebody's root-cellar going up in flames. Spicy, edges of sweetness and late season fruit, slightly bitter.
Smells musty in the tin. Smokes on the heavy side.

My apartment mate, who came home while I was out, was audible in her room after I returned, and said something to the effect of "I'm a squeamish extra small". The strong tobacco affected my hearing. Turns out it wasn't 'squeamish', but 'Swedish'. Clothing related.

Well, she is 'small'. Particularly if you're a Swede.
Scandinavian people tend to be larger.
Why did I hear 'squeamish'?

The nicotine must have whomped me.
Haunted Bookshop is rather good.
Perfect for a corncob.

I have no idea why she's ordering Swedish clothing.
Petite women have wider garb-sourcing.
Good stuff is hard to find.


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