zjgilbert
Well-known member
- Joined
- Jun 4, 2012
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So a couple of days ago my dad and I were sitting on the front porch trolling the web for some new tobacco to try. We were looking at some of the higher rated tobaccos on tobaccoreviews.com, and he mentioned Samuel Gawith's 1792 Flake seemed to be fairly well liked. We were both quite intrigued by the description and decided that would be one of the next tobaccos we try. I found a tin at my local B&M today, so thought I'd give this stuff a try. Upon opening I wasn't sure if I loved or detested the bouquet of chocolate, leather, dirty socks, cheap old lady purfume, and as another put it, a pet store. I rubbed a few flakes out onto a piece of paper to dry before I packed my bowl. I did this well over an hour and a half prior to packing and my hands still reeked of this poor man's potpourri. With shaking hands I packed the bowl and lit the match. Being a religious man I heeded BoxerBuddy's review and said a prayer for my soul. I lowered the flame to the weed and watched the black moss curl up to meet its demise. I slowly drew in on the smoke, anticipating the consequences. I sat there puffing on it for a few minutes trying to figure this stuff out. I couldn't decide if I liked the tobacco or not. Couldn't tell if it was a spicy blend or something sweet. I set the pipe down for a minute in an attempt to reflect. About a minute later I picked it back up and drew on the stem. It had already gone out. I lit another match and repeated the process. Again, the pipe went out after reflection. This happened about two times before I just took a few huge sips off of the pipe. I exhaled out of my nose and felt as though someone had just poured chlorine down my throat. All I could taste was the air wafted over a public pool and bitterness. As I sat back and smoked this blend a bit more I was reminded of a flavor that was there from the beginning, but hidden underneath the wal-mart quality perfume aroma - semi-sweet chocolate chips. As I wiped the sweat off my face I lit another match. As I drew in on the smoke my mind's eye flashed with visions of rotting trees and caverns deep within the soil. I could picture scoundrels of the lowest degree covered in dirt and sweat sipping on this poison as they drank beer from a mug the size of a small child, and I was faced with something I truly did not expect after my introduction to 1792. I actually found myself enjoying it. I don't mean the kind of enjoyment one would find in their favorite brew after a hard day of work. I mean the kind of enjoyment a toddler would gain from breaking a toy he wanted, but belonged to anther child. A sick, twisted, almost demented kind of enjoyment. To reference BoxerBuddy's review again, I could hear the dark prince laughing as I sipped on the tobacco. "Good, my child, good. Embrace the punishment," I could hear between his cries of joy. I could feel horns growing from my head, bat wings erupted from my back, tearing the flesh away as the smoke billowed from my mouth. With every draw on the acrylic my innards were being ripped out. Alas, I had become one of his minions. Whenever I am in the mood for some punishment and feel like being emasculation with whips and chains I will return to this tobacco. :twisted:
