The Jonesy Pretty Penny Pass

[Jonesy]

All looks good, I put a sharpie in the box, and donated to the troops, the box looks pretty good although I did not inspect all the sticks.. This will go out in the morning...

T:#17 Padron #2 P: #40 ESG Robusto
T: #15 Padron 40th P:#41 DCM Stanfords 90th
T:#34 RyJ No.2 EL 00 P: #42 Parti Pyramide EL 00
T:#6 BBMF P: #44 FFOX Lancero 2004 (from the gift set)
P:#43 Cabaiguan El Guapo
P:#45 601 Oscuro La Punta (Green label)

Very nice plays Tim! Thanks so much for playing along in my first pass and Frank and I both thank you for replacing the Sharpie he decided to steal. :laugh:

 

[Infinity]

Nice play Tim.

Guys, it is advisable that you inspect every stick when you receive a pass. If you don't and the next recipient checks and finds errors, the last player (you),
will be responsible. I'm passing on advice given to me by some of my brother's here several months back when a pass arrived at my door in a state. I was ready
to close it up without puts and takes and send it on. I was encouraged to correct the pass and send it on it's way in a healthy state OR, I would be held responsible.
It took me a long tome, new lists, new numbering etc. but I'm glad I was advised to to do it.

Just my 0.02

Brian

 

[Jonesy]

Nice play Tim.

Guys, it is advisable that you inspect every stick when you receive a pass. If you don't and the next recipient checks and finds errors, the last player (you),
will be responsible. I'm passing on advice given to me by some of my brother's here several months back when a pass arrived at my door in a state. I was ready
to close it up without puts and takes and send it on. I was encouraged to correct the pass and send it on it's way in a healthy state OR, I would be held responsible.
It took me a long tome, new lists, new numbering etc. but I'm glad I was advised to to do it.

Just my 0.02

Brian

Well put and thanks for bringing this up Brian. This is a very valid point because the guy in front of you may not have packed the box well so the cigars may move around and get damaged in transit. Please look at everything when it gets to you because I'd hate to see someone get blamed for something that wasn't their doing but an oversight on their part. Thanks guys.

 

[tkoepp]

Good point Brian, went back through it and all appears ok.

DC 0103 8555 7493 3345 2801

Thanks for letting me take part in your first pass bro, it was fun bustin your pass cherry..

 

[mmburtch]

:laugh: :laugh: I think he might have already left or atleast got it through his thick head! :laugh: Brian I am sorry your wife pisses in your coffee :laugh:

 

[mmburtch]

:0 :0

An eBay rating is completely worthless. You are completely out of line for calling our members "poison." I really hate braggarts, I could care less of you're a "trama sturgeon" what is that, some kind of fish?

Do you know how to spell "warranted?" ??? I didn't think so.....
How much education does your typical "trama sturgeon" have, is it beyond a fourth grade level?

When you post like an asshole, you're going to be treated like one.

Run along now asshat as you said you would......

 

[mmburtch]

well, the medics just left... poison control is on stand down and the CDC is no longer on the phone. I'm in the clear for now. The reason for all the ruckus? I finally got the nerve up to smoke my prize winnings of a Phillies Chocolate Blunt (Thanks Devin... I think!) and I washed it down with a special bottle of Jones soda, sent in a foam bomb (hmm... where did you get THAT idea come from Phil?). The flavor of the Soda? Jone Soda's Smoked Salmon Pâté!

​

First the blunt... in a word? Nasty. Although NOT as nasty as I expected. Now, I will be honest - I'm a reformed Swisher Sweet smoker! Yea Yea, yuck it up. But, a buddy of mine (at least I thought he was a buddy) got me smoking them when we were out fishing as they helped keep the mosquitoes away. Wonder why... maybe because they are toxic? :laugh: Another buddy (a real one this time) bitch slapped me for smoking crap and introduced me to real cigars... a Padron 3000. And I've been hooked ever since! But I digress...

The blunt, upon unwrapping the carton, smelled... nasty? I had it triple ziplocked and vacuum sealed with a sacrificial humi-pack so it would not contaminate my overflow cooler. I grabbed the soda from the fridge and went out on the deck. Shame to waste such a nice day. My first sign of trouble was clipping the damn thing - the tip just crumbled. I tried a test draw and got nothing but a mouth of debris.

​

And the taste... well, I was expecting the taste of trying to smoke a Hershey's bar with a blow torch, but I actually tasted some tobacco. SOME. And when I lit it up... well, that taste went away and was replaced with the blow torched Hershey bar! Ok, not really, but I am not sure what I was tasting, I just knew I did NOT like it. None of the spice... none of the earthy flavors... no pepper... no nothing other than a little chocolate mixed in with some cheap tobacco. Ewwww.

​

So I tossed the thing with barely an inch gone. (Hey... I had to at least TRY it for a few minutes) Oh well... and proceeded to crack open the soda to get the taste out of my mouth. My first clue that this would not help was when I could not identify the smell at first. Did it smell like the brine I soak my salmon for 24 hours in prior to smoking it? No... how about the smell of the drippings from my smoker while it's smoking? No... then it hit me. It smelled like the back of my truck after a long drive - I smoked a couple of cigars, and Porter had puked after eating a couple of mouthfuls of rotting salmon on the beach. (Yeah, that was fun to clean up.) The second clue that I was in trouble was when I lowered the bottle so my dogs could sniff it. Now, we're talking about 2 dogs that one day decided to eat about 3 full sized salmon worth of brined fillets ready to smoke... RAW. And their reaction to the soda? Porter turned around and went down the stairs to the water bucket and guzzled water. Amber just stood there and looked at it. Then she looked at me as if she was saying - 'if you drink that you're a dumbass'.

​

And drink it I did. I put the thing to my lips, took a small swallow - and about puked. That crap is N.A.S.T.Y. That was it - I'm done. Call the medics, I need morphine. Call poison control and report a new poison. Call the CDC and report a new biological weapon. Take that crap OFF THE MARKET!!

​

I pitched it after one slug... and that was too much! I'm paying for it now... every belch, evey yawn, every time I open my mouth basically, I get a foul stench of smoked salmon pate! I ate a bunch of black licorice, bit into the lime I squeezed for a mojito, drank the mojito, washed my mouth out with mouthwash, gargled with mouthwash, brushed my teeth, and had another mojito. And I can still taste the soda!

:laugh: what a day, what a day...

 

[insight]

That pic of the soda reminds me it is getting close to my Xmas shopping time. Some of you are fucked for sure if they have salmon soda again

 

[mmburtch]

 

[Brickhouse]

Woohoo! I'm next, time to start thinking.....

 

[lurch]

Since our esteemed Ginseng (aka "Wilkey") has taken it upon himself to "expose" me, I feel it's time for his secret to come out as well.

I mentioned in an earlier post that Wilkey had his share of wild cover model days, but the truth is far more sordid than that, and it explains his penchant for Moontrance cigars.

You see my friends, his real name is not "Wilkey Wong" -- I mean seriously, who would have a name like that? His real name is actually Wilkey Wang aka the infamous "Wilk my Wang" of hardcore Pacific Rim porn fame.

As it turns out, the lubricant favored by the Pacific Rim Hardcore scene (PRH) is a blend of exotic spices, including... you guessed it... coconut and honey. When Mr. Wang left the poke 'em and stroke 'em business, his permanently slightly agape mouth craved something to fill the void. Enter the Moontrace. Need I say more?

I know it's a tough thing to swallow, but I have absolute proof. This is Mr. Wang in his younger years, shamelessly exploiting his roguish good looks for a little exotic spice on his lips:

Incidentally, it is exactly these revelations that caused Mr. Wang's early exit from politics....

This is just hilarious...

 

[Infinity]

Just don't forget the "plumber cleavage" while yer workin'. Push them jeans down a little and let that ass crack smile at all the supervisors.

NA

Brian

 

[Gator]

When she comes home, make sure she finds you in the opening of the bedroom door, pants around your ankles. When she asks what the hell you are doing, tell her you were going to take a sh*t on the floor. When she freaks out and finally asks why, tell you always wanted to and figured that since you f*cked up the wood floors and had to fix it anyway, you figured you'd go ahead and get the whole crapping on the floor out of the way at the same time. Oh and make sure you eat a buttload of chilli and drink lots of Pabst an hour or so before she comes home.

Finally! A man that understands women. Thanks, Matt!

They replayed it again last night. I'm not sure, but I think the guy in the first sex scene shaves his balls...... I KNOW the girl has a nice neatly shorn landing strip.....

It takes a lot of patience to shave your balls....

Nah, the hard part is staying still while the midget lathers you up.



Who let Matt use my sign in?

Some of my all time favorite fucks were red heads. Everyone single one was kinky and they were insatiable. I don't know if it is the red hair or what but I never had one that didn't perform like a champ.

I remember this one who after swallowing a load could tell you if you had meat, chicken or fish for dinner, is that talent or what? lol

My first wife was a redhead. You speak the truth. You forgot to mention that every signel goddamned one of them is loonier than a [insert very friggen' loony thing here]. I mean, I am a little bit unstable, but she was just off the friggen tracks. But a busty redhead still makes me twitch a bit.

The computer told me I was so cool, that it wanted to hang out with me. Then, it had its little sister, Peedeeay, come over to my crib after work, and give me a little sugar.
Then, the computer's hot cousin Zeerocks showed up and cooked me breakfast in bed. She and Peedeeay were all about the "accesories" and there was no problem with interfacing.
Unfortunately, her german cousin, Knetvurk Ahdmin showed up just as I was about to complete the upload, and I had to disconnect.

Too bad.

 

[jfields]

:laugh: OMFG!

Why I stopped using my cellphone in the bathroom

All in all, it hadn't been a good day. Bad traffic, a malfunctioning computer, incompetent coworkers and a sore back all made me a seething cauldron of rage. But more importantly for this story, it had been over 48 hours since I'd last taken a dump. I'd tried to jumpstart the process, beginning my day with a bowl of ass cleansing fiber cereal, following it with six cups of coffee at work, and adding a bean-laden lunch at Taco Bell.


As I was returning home from work, my insides let me know with subtle rumbles and the emission of the occasional tiny fart that Big Things would be happening soon. Alas, I had to stop at the mall to pick up an order for the wife. I completed this task, and as I was walking past the stores on my way back to the car, I noticed a large sale sign proclaiming, "Everything Must Go!" This was prophetic, for my colon informed me with a sudden violent cramp and a wet, squeaky fart that everything was indeed about to go. I hurried to the mall bathrooms. I surveyed the five stalls, which I have numbered 1 through 5 for your convenience:


1. Occupied.


2. Clean, but Bathroom Protocol forbids its use, as it's next to the occupied one.


3. **** smeared on seat.


4. **** and toilet paper in bowl, unidentifiable liquid splattered on seat.


5. No toilet paper, no stall door, something growing near base of toilet.


Clearly, it had to be Stall #2. I trudged back, entered, dropped the trousers and sat down. I'm normally a fairly Shameful ****ter. I wasn't happy about being next to the occupied stall, but Big Things were afoot.


I was just getting ready to bear down when all of a sudden the sweet sounds of Beethoven came from next door, followed by a fumbling, and then the sound of a voice answering the ringing phone. As usual for a cell phone conversation, the voice was exactly 8 dB louder than it needed to be. Out of shameful habit, my sphincter slammed shut. The inane conversation went on and on. Mr. ****ter was blathering to Mrs. ****ter about the ****ty day he had. I sat there, cramping and miserable, waiting for him to finish. As the loud conversation dragged on, I became angrier and angrier, thinking that I, too, had a crappy day, but I was too polite to yak about in public. My ass let me know in no uncertain terms that if I didn't get crapping soon, my day would be getting even crappier.


Finally my anger reached a point that overcame Shamefulness. I no longer cared. I gripped the toilet paper holder with one hand, braced my other hand against the side of the stall, and pushed with all my might. I was rewarded with a fart of colossal magnitude -- a cross between the sound of someone ripping a very wet bed sheet in half and of plywood being torn off a wall. The sound gradually transitioned into a heavily modulated low-RPM tone, not unlike someone firing up a Harley. I managed to hit the resonance frequency of the stall, and it shook gently.


Once my ass cheeks stopped flapping in the breeze, three things became apparent:


(1) The next-door conversation had ceased; (2) my colon's continued seizing indicated that there was more to come; and (3) the bathroom was now beset by a horrible, eldritch stench.


It was as if a gateway to Hell had been opened. The foul miasma quickly made its way under the stall and began choking my poop-mate. This initial "herald" fart had ended his conversation in mid-sentence.


"Oh my God," I heard him utter, following it with suppressed sounds of choking, and then, "No, baby, that wasn't me (cough, gag), you could hear that (gag)??"


Now there was no stopping me. I pushed for all I was worth. I could swear that in the resulting cacophony of rips, squirts, splashes, poots, and blasts, I was actually lifted slightly off the pot. The amount of stuff in me was incredible. It sprayed against the bowl with tremendous force. Later, in surveying the damage, I'd see that liquid poop had actually managed to ricochet out of the bowl and run down the side on to the floor. But for now, all I could do was hang on for the ride.


Next door I could hear him fumbling with the paper dispenser as he desperately tried to finish his task. Little snatches of conversation made themselves heard over my anal symphony: "Gotta go... horrible... throw up...in my mouth... not... make it... tell the kids...love them... oh God..." followed by more sounds of suppressed gagging and retching.


Alas, it is evidently difficult to hold one's phone and wipe one's bum at the same time. Just as my high-pressure abuse of the toilet was winding down, I heard a plop and splash from next door, followed by string of swear words and gags. My ****-mate had dropped his phone into the toilet.


There was a lull in my production, and the restroom became deathly quiet. I could envision him standing there, wondering what to do. A final anal announcement came trumpeting from my behind, small chunks plopping noisily into the water. That must have been the last straw. I heard a flush, a fumbling with the lock, and then the stall door was thrown open. I heard him running out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.


After a considerable amount of paperwork, I got up and surveyed the damage. I felt bad for the janitor who'd be forced to deal with this, but I knew that flushing was not an option. No toilet in the world could handle that unholy mess. Flushing would only lead to a floor flooded with filth.


As I left, I glanced into the next-door stall. Nothing remained in the bowl. Had he flushed his phone, or had he plucked it out and left the bathroom with nasty unwashed hands? The world will never know.


I exited the bathroom, momentarily proud and shameless, looking around for a face glaring at me. But I saw no one. I suspect that somehow my supernatural elimination has managed to transfer my shamefulness to my anonymous ****-mate. I think it'll be a long time before he can bring himself to **** in public -- and I doubt he'll ever again answer his cell phone in a bathroom. And this, my friends, is why you should never talk on your phone in the bathroom.
__________________

 

[Jonesy]

You might be on to something John. That's the first entry I had to stop and wipe the tears from my eyes so I could finish reading! :laugh:

 

[Mike33]

Wow John! That has to be one of the funniest stories I have ever read :laugh:

 

[mmburtch]

The first time that got posted, I printed it out for my 7 month pregnant wife. She laughed so hard she peed herself.

 

[MX]

Possibly the greatest invention for us!

I thought that this would be something more interesting with a title like that, like a sex robot that had nipples you could draw smoke from your favorite cigar while you . . .well that last part's just for me. :blush:

NO way!!! would I use that thing.

This is the "Pocket Pussy" of the cigar world. No thanks, I'll take the real thing.

Moki always knows where to find the cheap pussy. Thanks for the "source".

I mis-typed a word in the search box, and this is the thread it led me too

TIm

 

[Brickhouse]

Pass has arrived!!!

Haven't opened it yet. I will open, do the inspection, and post puts and takes tonight. Pass should go back out tomorrow.

More to follow.

 

[Brickhouse]

Inspection Complete:

All cigars look to be in pristine condition. I licked them all to make sure they were authentic.

The tupperware box lid has a crack in it, but since everything is in a ziplock bag, I don't see that being an issue.

Working on my P's and T's right now.