Thursday, November 24, 2005

The Prima Post

I can't really remember when the last time was that I had a nice big cigar and enjoyed it. So I'm making tonight one of those nights. I'm having a Hoyo de Monterry Excalibur. I must have lit up at least 15 minutes ago and the ash still hasn't dropped. This bad boy is tightly wound, and of superb flavor. And sitting back and blowing rings of smoke only adds to the leisure and enjoyment. I am anticipating a nice cuban on my 21st birthday with, perhaps, a glass of wisky. I love cigars. I love pretty much everything about cigars. From the taste, to just holding a burning cigar in my hand and watching the smoke rise, to lighting it, exhaling, tamping the ash off, and everything inbetween. There are two things I never want to give up. My beard, and my cigar.

I know one thing for sure ... when my family wakes up tomorrow morning and comes into the livingroom they're going to wonder about the musky scent.

Cigars are almost mystical, though. You take this product, preferably made from fine ingredients, and rolled by fine people, and you set fire to the end of it. This gives the object life. You now take this living being, which is semi-aflame, and you put it to your lips, and draw. Thus, it is slowing becoming a part of the you for a moment, and vice versa. You are joining with its essence. You then exhale, releasing this new mixture which is part you, and part something else into the air, and you get to watch yourself rise to the heavens in a cloud. Which is a reason why I prefer my affairs with the cigar to take place outdoors, when possible, and also at night. Because at night the glowng eye of the beast is more visible, and the amalgamation of self and cigar is allowed to ascend to the very stars above. If that's not reason enough to smoke a cigar, then I don't know what is.

Cigars are indespensible when one would rather kiss the heavens themself.