Wrapper: Ecuadorian Corojo
Binder: Mexican San Andrés
Filler: Dominican: San Vicente Seco, Hybrid 192 Viso (Aged 14 years)
Size: 6.625 x 50 Double Tapered Diadema
Strength: Medium
Price: $18.00
My cigars have had two months of naked humidor time.
BACKGROUND:
Released June 2023
4000 boxes produced but only 1500 allocated for the U.S.
Releases are for all four seasons and rolled using the same size.
THE WHOLE MEGILLAH:
I’m not much of a fan of AVO cigars. I’ve reviewed 13 blends since 2014. Most of which I did not care for. A couple were pretty good.
Aromas are so faint as to be close to non-existent. I will juice up and see, or smell, what is available…black licorice, creaminess, a slight fruitiness, mild chocolate, black pepper, cedar, and barnyard.
The draw…well, there ain’t no draw. I whistle and my PerfecDraw tool comes running to save this $18 cigar from the trash bin. The plug is in the usual spot hiding beneath the cigar band. Good to go. The PerfecDraw runs home to mama.
AVO cigar blends are all bland to me. They rarely have oomph. And the flavors seem minimalistic. I’m not sure who their audience base is. Working in a cigar lounge a couple years ago, I saw enthusiastic fans of the brand buy these ridiculously priced cigars with giant Jim Jones-like smiles on their pusses.
The cigar begins without fanfare. Natch. It starts like every other AVO cigar. The aging of the leaves should be kicking in.
There is not a hint of spiciness that my palate craves. The only flavors I taste are creaminess, a touch of lemon, and aged tobacco that lies limp…boy, I can relate.
A scoche of black pepper appears off in the distance. I get a British royalty wave and then I am ignored.
As far as I know, these cigars sold out quickly. There is a fanbase for AVO…I’m just not in that clique.
The cigar is well built. Construction is solid and this means that if the blend does not perk up, I’m on a long journey to hell.
Strength is mild. Bullshit. The cigar is the perfect shape for being a gerbil’s cousin…batteries not included.
1” burned 10 minutes. Man, I should be on a magic carpet ride due to the aged tobacco. But I’m still in queue waiting for my turn for sloppy seconds.
My guess is that the mild profile of AVO cigars is aimed at the inexperienced smoker whose palate finds the trivial flavor profile just right. Dunno.
The char line is perfect. Very unusual for a Diadema. So, the roller(s) had their shit together.
Bland, bland, bland.
This is like smoking a Macanudo Connie.
If the cigar doesn’t improve soon, I’m giving it a parrot.
If you spent $18 on this cigar, you’ve been duped.
The blend can’t find medium strength. Stuck in the mud at mild. Although, black pepper has risen giving the false appearance of a stronger cigar.
I didn’t find a single review of this cigar. What a shock. So, I’m the schmuck who took the bullet for my readers.
Thank God the cigar is burning slowly. Ratsenfratzenfuckshitpiss.
The bellowing flavors: Creaminess and black pepper. Yeah baby.
As this is the Summer release in the Seasons series, I guess laying dormant on the sand of some far off beach, cut off from all sensory modalities, is the reason for this cigar tasting like seaweed and cat litter.
So glad I did not review this cigar during the week. I try and save shit bird sticks for the weekend so no one will notice.
2” burned. 25 minutes. “Waaahh…Ricky!”
It’s not a bad cigar. It isn’t musty. It isn’t harsh. It is just such a mild tasteless cigar that I find myself checking my breasts for lumps.
Zero transitions. Zero complexity. Zero depth. Zero.
Ahh, we have medium strength at 3” burned. What a fucking accomplishment. Notify Guinness.
I’m lying on the table in the hospital as they administer the goof juice for my double colonoscopy and endoscopy. It ain’t knocking me out. I’m goofed out but completely awake. They start with the scope down my throat. The doc sprays my throat with some numbing shit and shoves the fire hose down my gullet while I gag like a new inmate in Quentin. This goes on for 15 minutes. I can’t seem to lose consciousness. I’m fucking awake now, baby. Then they wash off the hose with Red Bull and shove it up my ass all the way to my ears. This fucking hurts. This goes on for 20 minutes. And then the doc says that the crap I drank the night before that turned me into an ass faucet didn’t work and he can’t see a thing. I’m told afterwards I must do it again but must drink a different bottle of shit juice. So being the schmuck I am, I do it. Guess what? The stuff didn’t work this time either. I’m never going through that again. I’d rather have my penis removed and donated to a lesbian museum.
The cigar. Nothing has changed except for the terminally long time it is taking to die.
I think the cigar is growing back.
Creaminess and black pepper reign supreme. Thank God.
I got something called a genital wart. What the fuck is that? I still don’t know…other than it’s harmless. My primary says he can remove it with a Dr. Evil laser attached to the head of a shark. I lay there with my giant schlong exposed to the nurses…and the doc says he can’t find his glasses. Everyone in the room looks for them. I speak up and tell the doc, “They’re on your head, Doc.” He grabs them and slips them down into place without saying a word. I go into high panic mode. He grabs the shark and aims. I smell burning penis. I try to pass out, but I can’t. I’m sure he is cutting it in half. And my new nickname will be Stubby. He finishes up and my wiener is in one piece with a bandage big enough to stop the bleeding on a decapitated head. I had to use tongs to piss for three days. I tied a string to my wiener to remove it from my jeans, but the tongs were for putting it back. Owie.
The cigar. No change. But it refuses to burn down. I think I still have 6” to go. Someone kill me.
I’m done.
RATING: 60
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Categories: CIGAR REVIEWS
