kann
One Leg Of Fury.
- Joined
- Apr 29, 2011
- Messages
- 11,277
Hell yeah, brother -- time to review the Swisher Sweet. These things remind me of my high school days when me and Becky Lynn Babcock used to drive around in my old Torino and go making out by the lake on the weekends before it broke down on me (I think it was the tranny). Now, of course, you'd use Swishers and Phillies and such to smoke other things back then, and we'd just lay there on the hood of that hot rod getting higher than a border wall while listening to Skynyrd and enjoying each other's company. Simpler times, brother. Simpler times. Hot damn, I loved that car.
Now, this Swisher looked mighty fine when I took her out of the coolidor, and there ain't a finer sight than that cigar sitting on top of America's favorite soft drink. I pulled out my trusty Zippo for this responsibility, because if you ain't using a Zippo to light your smoke, you just aren't an American. I grabbed my cleanest undershirt out of the clothes basket and my favorite flannel shirt from the closet, pulled on my old John Deere cap, and got ready to head outside. Right about that time my doorbell dun rang, and there were two young gentlemen out there asking if I wouldn't mind running to the store to buy them some beer. Seems they drove halfway there and realized they forgot their I.D. Well, I've been there, too, brother, but I had to kindly decline. Sorry, my dudes, but I got a job to do here (I didn't feel the need to mention that I don't get my license back again until next month).
Opening this brought back some memories, I tell you hwhat. This beaut of a figurado was expertly wrapped in 00-grit sandpaper, just like I remember. The foot was well-tapered, but the wrapper was a might undone at the end, and I was skeered it was going to come all unraveled as I smoked it. My fears were for nothing, though, since she smoked just fine. Just like the King Edward, the Swisher been built with a Precision Draw Opening, but I grabbed the Xikar and cut it anyway. Because, ain't no one telling me what to do...
So, I lit this sumbitch up, and she smoked like a chimney. Hell yeah, brother. It tasted like molasses and tree bark, with a little cardboard on the retrohale. I haven't had a cigar this good since the third grade. This Swisher was sweeter than a new lift kit and mud tires on the HEMI, I tell you hwhat.
About halfway through, my doorbell rang again, and two more young gentlemen were out there. Seems they was having some car trouble (I think it was the tranny), and was wondering if I'd run to the store and buy them some of these great smokes. Again, I had to politely decline so I could come back and continue this here review. Also, I didn't feel the need to tell them that I don't get my license back again until next month.
I'd git a good bit of tobacca flakes in my teeth, but I figure it's just the price of doing business when you've got something as good as this going on. She smoked well, and I haven't seen a tight ash this white since me and Cassie Lynn Babcock used to head down to the river in my old Challenger to go skinny dipping. Hahahaha... get it? Tight white ash... Hahahaha. One night Becky Lynn was down at the lake with my brother Darrell for some reason or another and caught me and her sister just getting ready to jump into the water in our birthday suits. It did not end well, I tell you hwhat. Hot damn, I loved that car.
So, bout halfways through this cigar, and I swear I hear something shaking around inside of it. Kind of a rattling sound, like when the tranny went out on my old Satellite the year after graduation when I was doing burnouts down at the lake trying to impress Katy Lynn Babcock.
Between you and me, brother, I started falling out of love with this cigar about this time, just like when Dottie Lynn Babcock showed up at the lake unexpectedly with my other brother Darrell and about broke my heart. Just like back then, things weren't going so well for me now. See, things were just falling out of the bottom by now, and I swear a gosh dang Kellog's Corn Flake tumbled out of it.
I decided to try me a little experiment. Y'all hear about them rich folk who impregnate their expensive Cuban cigars with their cognacs and bourbons and whiskey and whatnot. A waste of fine Kentucky spirits, if your asking me. Which you should. So, I figures I would go one better and impregnate this cigar with some of God's own water. I can't really be saying that it made the cigar taste better, but it sure did make my King of Beers taste a little funny. Live and learn, brother. Live and learn.
I wanted to keep smoking it, but so much was falling out of the bottom, that it ended up all hollow just like some of the trees in my backyard. Why would Swisher make a cigar that falls apart at the end like this? I think I know what the problem is: See, there ain't one virgin to be found over the age of 15 years old in these parts, and since the government now says you got to be 21 years old to even think of touching any sort of tobacca, it's obvious there ain't no virgins involved in rolling these things. There's your problem, Mr. President. This is something that needs to be addressed during this election. That's who I'm voting for, I tell you hwhat!
So, after all of that, I guess I should be fixin' to give a final thought on this thing. Well, total smoking time was about 20 minutes. Mighten of been a tad more if it didn't fall apart. But it did. So, I said what I said. Even still, I'd smoke it again. It's a quality stick, which you just don't much find these days. I tell you hwhat -- when I get the tranny fixed on my old Camaro, me and my girl Elsie Lynn Babcock are gonna cruise on down to the corner store and pick us up some more of these. Hot damn, I love that car.
I'm going to have to end this review right here, though, because I think I hear my doorbell ringing...
Now, this Swisher looked mighty fine when I took her out of the coolidor, and there ain't a finer sight than that cigar sitting on top of America's favorite soft drink. I pulled out my trusty Zippo for this responsibility, because if you ain't using a Zippo to light your smoke, you just aren't an American. I grabbed my cleanest undershirt out of the clothes basket and my favorite flannel shirt from the closet, pulled on my old John Deere cap, and got ready to head outside. Right about that time my doorbell dun rang, and there were two young gentlemen out there asking if I wouldn't mind running to the store to buy them some beer. Seems they drove halfway there and realized they forgot their I.D. Well, I've been there, too, brother, but I had to kindly decline. Sorry, my dudes, but I got a job to do here (I didn't feel the need to mention that I don't get my license back again until next month).
Opening this brought back some memories, I tell you hwhat. This beaut of a figurado was expertly wrapped in 00-grit sandpaper, just like I remember. The foot was well-tapered, but the wrapper was a might undone at the end, and I was skeered it was going to come all unraveled as I smoked it. My fears were for nothing, though, since she smoked just fine. Just like the King Edward, the Swisher been built with a Precision Draw Opening, but I grabbed the Xikar and cut it anyway. Because, ain't no one telling me what to do...
So, I lit this sumbitch up, and she smoked like a chimney. Hell yeah, brother. It tasted like molasses and tree bark, with a little cardboard on the retrohale. I haven't had a cigar this good since the third grade. This Swisher was sweeter than a new lift kit and mud tires on the HEMI, I tell you hwhat.
About halfway through, my doorbell rang again, and two more young gentlemen were out there. Seems they was having some car trouble (I think it was the tranny), and was wondering if I'd run to the store and buy them some of these great smokes. Again, I had to politely decline so I could come back and continue this here review. Also, I didn't feel the need to tell them that I don't get my license back again until next month.
I'd git a good bit of tobacca flakes in my teeth, but I figure it's just the price of doing business when you've got something as good as this going on. She smoked well, and I haven't seen a tight ash this white since me and Cassie Lynn Babcock used to head down to the river in my old Challenger to go skinny dipping. Hahahaha... get it? Tight white ash... Hahahaha. One night Becky Lynn was down at the lake with my brother Darrell for some reason or another and caught me and her sister just getting ready to jump into the water in our birthday suits. It did not end well, I tell you hwhat. Hot damn, I loved that car.
So, bout halfways through this cigar, and I swear I hear something shaking around inside of it. Kind of a rattling sound, like when the tranny went out on my old Satellite the year after graduation when I was doing burnouts down at the lake trying to impress Katy Lynn Babcock.
Between you and me, brother, I started falling out of love with this cigar about this time, just like when Dottie Lynn Babcock showed up at the lake unexpectedly with my other brother Darrell and about broke my heart. Just like back then, things weren't going so well for me now. See, things were just falling out of the bottom by now, and I swear a gosh dang Kellog's Corn Flake tumbled out of it.
I decided to try me a little experiment. Y'all hear about them rich folk who impregnate their expensive Cuban cigars with their cognacs and bourbons and whiskey and whatnot. A waste of fine Kentucky spirits, if your asking me. Which you should. So, I figures I would go one better and impregnate this cigar with some of God's own water. I can't really be saying that it made the cigar taste better, but it sure did make my King of Beers taste a little funny. Live and learn, brother. Live and learn.
I wanted to keep smoking it, but so much was falling out of the bottom, that it ended up all hollow just like some of the trees in my backyard. Why would Swisher make a cigar that falls apart at the end like this? I think I know what the problem is: See, there ain't one virgin to be found over the age of 15 years old in these parts, and since the government now says you got to be 21 years old to even think of touching any sort of tobacca, it's obvious there ain't no virgins involved in rolling these things. There's your problem, Mr. President. This is something that needs to be addressed during this election. That's who I'm voting for, I tell you hwhat!
So, after all of that, I guess I should be fixin' to give a final thought on this thing. Well, total smoking time was about 20 minutes. Mighten of been a tad more if it didn't fall apart. But it did. So, I said what I said. Even still, I'd smoke it again. It's a quality stick, which you just don't much find these days. I tell you hwhat -- when I get the tranny fixed on my old Camaro, me and my girl Elsie Lynn Babcock are gonna cruise on down to the corner store and pick us up some more of these. Hot damn, I love that car.
I'm going to have to end this review right here, though, because I think I hear my doorbell ringing...
