The winter chill is radiating from the closed window as I stand in my office in my robe looking out at the blanket of satin white. I just woke up, and I’m waiting for the coffee to finish percolating as I watch the wind blow around the fine powder. I reach for my Mr. Brog #89, considering what I should smoke. I want something that will wake me up and push away these chills that are radiating to my bone. I think back to my recent experience with Tabac Manil’s Le Petit Robin and what a great experience that was. I decide to try another one of Mr. Manil’s offerings: Pure Semois La Brumeuse.
Continue reading “Tabac Manil’s Pure Semois La Brumeuse (A Longform Pipe Tobacco Review For You!)”
It’s 1 p.m. on a Monday afternoon, and I find myself craving some sweets. I’m watching my weight, so a cupcake is out of the question. I reach for my Savinelli 645, considering what I should smoke. It’s cold outside, so I want something that will impart some warmth but also satisfy this sweet tooth. I decide to crack a tin of Stanwell Vanilla.
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Megan kept still. She was listening with her entire body.
There were tells that every soldier knew; some taught in basic training, but most learned over time. Silky footsteps whispering in the grass. The metallic chatter of a bullet rattling in its chamber. The muted thunk of gear on gear motion. The slink of a knife pulled from its sheath. The stuttered breath of that last fearful gasp. A nervous heart. All these were thumbprints of an intruder.
Continue reading “Cost in Translation (A Story Review of Warhorse Readycut Pipe Tobacco From a Soldier’s Perspective)”
It’s 6 in the morning on a Tuesday, and I just woke up an hour ago. I reach for my Mr. Brog #89, considering what I should smoke. It’s cold outside, so I want something that will wake me up and warm my body. Something classy, with an old school vibe. I decide on an unopened brick of Tabac Manil’s Le Petit Robin.
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I was 16 years old the first time I ever stepped foot into a tobacco shop. Taking place over 20 years ago, this was before all the draconian laws were made to tax and ban smoking out of existence. I’m 37 now. I’ve been going to the same shop all this time. Others have come and gone, but one store has stood the test of the ages.
Continue reading “Straus Tobacconist (A Stroll Through The Best Little Tobacco Shop in the World)”
I take a coach to the crossroads watching the mountains through the small window as we proceed to the point where Bulletsville meets with Perdition. It was a bumpy ride. My pipe jostles from my purse and clatters to the hardwood floor. I pick it up and blow it off as the coach suddenly comes to a halt.
Continue reading “At The Crossroads (A Story Review of Devil’s Holiday Pipe Tobacco)”