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My Father Flor de las Antilles

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Ain't it great. When I joined this forum I was just a raw newb looking for a Kuzi to advise me which end of the match to rub on which edge of the box. But within a few weeks, out of nowhere, what a shock! Catfish tricks me out of my address, and then I get bombed by Mike and Steve and what not. All this upper crust uppowoc I never heard of and never would have considered buying... high value mystery boxes... arriving daily at my doorstep.

That's the shock. Here's the awe: The Island Flower, Flor de las Antilles. Yeah, some of these mystery sticks from BOTLs who obviously suffer from a bizarre giving addiction are not to my taste. But then, as I wade through them, which is the only way to know, you know, I stumble on sublime sotweed cylinders like this:
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Look at her. Isn't she pretty? All dolled up with an elaborate band and a ribbon on her foot? The deal is, this girl is just as lovely inside as she is out. A rich brown shiny sungrown Nic wrapper, box pressed with gently rounded sides, smelling like pumpernickel, cream, and earth. That's right, I said pumpernickel. Who would expect a cigar to smell like dark sweet rye bread? Well, it does. And when I pop off the triple cap and draw, it flows easy as smelling a bakery down the block, and they are baking pumpernickel. This is remarkable. Can't wait to light it.

Lights easily toasting the foot with one match. The volume of smoke is something else. She pours out smoke just setting in the ashtray groove. In fact, it's not two minutes before Bearswatter drives me out of the TV room and into the garage, because there's just too much smoke for her. What do I taste? Cream and black bread. I don't taste the sweet of pumpernickel, but the same dark rye. Just a tickle of sungrown in the distance. In fact, about a quarter hour in, the Nic filler kicks off, adding some bitterness. Bitter dark rye and cream. The Flower burns very patiently. I can leave it lay there three or four minutes, and when I come back, she's ready to draw. The cherry travels an inch in a mere quarter hour. In the middle, I got a hint of pepper, and the bitter toned down. But always the creamy pump. The pepper passed in a few. Tell you, I milked this wonderful stogie to the hot nub. Only lasted an hour. Fine as frog hair throughout.

Left me a tad dizzy. But that could be that I was drinking hard apple cider with ginger in it, which I heartily recommend as mouthwash to your cigar. When I was done, I had a full on pumpernickel stinkfinger. This morning, a damp wheeze and a morning mouth that loves espresso latte.

I rate this four and a half. Would be five if it lasted longer. If I had two, I would light one off the other. Been jonesing for the Island Flower? Go grab one. No, better grab two.

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