Writing 5 mini reviews is dumb. Why do I do it? Dunno. I will never do it again. 6,002 words, man. The Unabomber’s manifesto was shorter. I picked the wrong time to give up snorting Flakka.
These reviews were written on different days so please excuse indifferent alliteration and confusion from the peanut gallery. I thought I knew what I was doing at the time.

Photo courtesy of Small Batch Cigar
#1
Luciano Underrated | Cigar Reviews by the Katman
Wrapper: Mexican San Andrés
Binder: Nicaraguan
Filler: Connecticut Broadleaf, Ecuadorian HVA, Nicaraguan Medio Tempo (Pueblo Nueva)
Size: 6.25 x 52 Toro Especial
Strength: Medium/Full
Price: $8.00
Factory: Luciano Cigars Factory in Estelï, Nicaragua
Released December 2023

My cigars received 4 months of naked humidor time. Dry boxed 2 days.

BACKGROUND:
From Small Batch Cigar and Luciano Meirelles:
“Underrated is all about utilizing underappreciated tobaccos in a way that they shine. Particularly, it uses a batch of Nicaraguan medio tiempo in the filler that was pulled from the fields early in 2020-2021 due to excessive rainfall. These leaves were carefully fermented and aged for several years to achieve what many thought was impossible. “The story of Underrated is about surprise – the unexpected pleasure of discovering something remarkable where one least expects it.”

THE WHOLE MEGILLAH:
I like this stick. Firm, fat, and has the complete map of Mars on its wrapper. One doodle with my PerfecPunch and the lander touches down. The draw is a minor miracle. Some resistance and giving me the nod that construction is solid. Like my stools. After coming back from the Vietnam war, my friend John Turner used his Marine corpsman knowledge to become a surgery tech at Long Beach Memorial Hospital. We would get blasted on the weekends and he’d relate what it was like operating on impacted bowels. The techniques were gruesome. But the way he could explain the smell…and how the surgeon would scream at John not to pull away, it was worth smoking a whole joint to get through it. This is going to a long smoke.

I forgot the cold draw, I’ve lit the cigar, and this is my last stick. The draw is full of angel hair pasta with sly notes of stone. Met the guy in the studio once. His elongated pinky fingernail was appropriate for dipping purposes. The pile of coke on his electric piano was 8” tall. Everyone in the studio had white mustaches.

Chocolate at forest dawn that has the slightest creaminess. The indescribable earthy quotient is there with light mushrooms and black caviar. I can smell saltiness.

Reminds me of the Illusione Maduro, but the Underrated has a sweeter being about it. If the earthiness is powerful, then sweetness is a must or else it tastes like shit. Imagine spooning apricot preserves on a cow patty.

I’ve only had my cigars for a few months. I don’t take notes. Duh. I vaguely remember smoking that first one and it was acceptable, and I thought there might be some hope with sleep. But I gotta be honest, this is a $8 cigar. In this alternate universe where $2 sticks are being sold for ten times that, we tend to look askance at something that might be too good to be true.

Creamed corn. Damn, that’s the flavor. I air pump my left testicle to celebrate. Keeping this alliance from being treacly is a nice pepperiness that keeps the back of my throat, and the roof of my mouth, entertained. We are entertained.

Dark cocoa is the baseline. I love that. I love my boutique coffees that have the same baseline. Coffee needs serious richness just before you start piling up a bunch of foo foo flavors on top.

Anytime the wrapper tastes good against your lips, you got half the problem solved. This is one of those wondrous cigar blends. I could smoke the Underrated all day. It delivers.

Cocoa, creaminess, black pepper, cinnamon, Ritz Cracker, apricot jam, grandpa’s wrapped peppermints, a scoche of curry powder, and smaller yet, a caramel influence. What else do you need? You want Peruvian, Costa Rican, Dominican, Brazilian, and Ecuadorian…go down the list of every retailer’s top 20 list. You want a strong and steady smoke that won’t make fun of you if you drop the cigar on the floor. You can retrieve the Underrated and keep on trucking.

A fucking solid cigar. A workman’s cigar. The price goes down to $6.50 with promo codes, and winner, winner, chicken dinner…you have an everyday great smoke that you dub your go-to.

To quote Luciano, this cigar is ‘designed to be an affordable luxury cigar.’ Amen. Love a cigar manufacturer that tells the truth.

The cigar comes in four sizes: 5.625 x 46, 5.5 x 50, 6.25 x 52, and 6.5 x 54.

You can purchase Luciano Underrated from Small Batch Cigar (10% off with promo code ‘katman’) and Luxury Cigar Club (15% off with promo code ‘katman’).

I don’t want to make extra work for myself but maybe, besides my yawn of a top 25 list, also include a top 10 list of Solid Fucking Cigars. Why not.

RATING: 94

#2
Viaje White Label Project Szivar EL | Cigar Reviews by the Katman
Wrapper: Mexican San Andrés
Binder: Undisclosed
Filler: Undisclosed
Size: 5.5 x 50 Box Pressed
Strength: Medium/Full
Price: $10.40
Factory: Undisclosed
Production: 200 boxes of 25

My cigars received 3 months of naked humidor time. Dry boxed 2 days.

THE WHOLE MEGILLAH:
I love a little mystery to my cigar. I have a pet peeve…Too many cigar manufacturers use this ploy. I don’t care about the reason. I object when a cigar company asks me to drop $25 on a cigar and they arrogantly don’t feel it necessary to tell me anything about their damn blend. What’s expected is I’m supposed to trust this big name and trust they won’t screw me. Now when a company like Viaje pulls this stunt, I do trust them. They don’t mess with my serenity because they only charge $10. No sweat.

Floral, fruity, and barnyard aromas equally matched by the allure of a spice cabinet. The draw is DOA. As a fan of all things Viaje, I’ve noticed that despite the locale of its rollers, most cigars are tight in the britches. I bought a box of Viaje Caches and each one was plugged. It must be a command from on high to cram these little Milk Bones with as much tobacco as possible. Luckily, I have my PerfecDraw close at hand. Two twitches and it is ready for its closeup, Mr. DeMille.

Chicken broth and teriyaki Meat-Sicle. The blend delivers with some depth that shows blending skill by Mr. Farkas. Again, an earthy taste that is comprised of cedar, chickpeas, sourdough toast, black coffee, white pepper, fennel, and seaweed. Very cool.
Chocolate seeps in after a sip of water…my go to choice of libation when I smoke a good cigar. I want nothing to interfere with the purity of the experience. A snobby perspective but agreed upon by the highest echelon of the military-industrial complex.

And then caramel takes its turn. Flavors are not all up in my face, but they are an exceptional constant. Strength is medium.

I did the “Let’s See” portion of my cigar custody and nothing stirred my loins. Now, only a few months later, the blend is making a serious statement. This is exactly why Viaje blends are part of my rotational addiction.

The roadies were up late. Then up early. The band slept in. Hotel breakfast on the road. We sat bleary-eyed at the table sipping coffee. Well, I did. They drank tea. Sonja’s quedgie became the secret hiding place for a disappearing vibrator she fell in love with while in Amsterdam. Stewart shushed us. He slowly leaned to his right until his head was on her lap and he could identify the specific location of the buzzing. Sonja had a perfect sly grin…never said a word. She was fun to travel with on that day.

So far, a beautiful balance of sweet v. savory. The blend is transitional and flavorful.

I nilly-willy guess the two undisclosed country of origins as I goober through this cigar. I’m guessing Dominican, Nicaraguan and South Lake Tahoe.
I’m not a gambler. I went into a casino forty years ago and plopped a $20 bill down on the 21 table. 6 seconds later, it was gone. I got up and walked away. But I did marry the girl.

The second third has my attention. I fight the urge to constantly puff. Tar-City if I do that. I have a Tony Robbins credo playing on a loop in the background, “It’s not about the goal. It’s about growing as a person. Put the damn cigar down, dumb ass.”

This diminutive cigar will be a two-hour ride. The blow hole found a way to allow me to puff without chugging. It happened with my Caches as well. I prefer this style of construction to the perennial light as a feather cigar that burns hot and as fast as a Marlboro Menthol.

Long ago, I threw a party at my recording studio and a female guest and I began chatting when another guest came up and screamed, “You’re Elvira!” He got an autograph and then disappeared into the weed-filled party rooms. I had no idea she was a tv sensation since she introduced herself to me as Cassandra. We moved to my studio’s control room and connected through laughter. She was an intimidating woman which thankfully kept everyone at bay. I came this close to having a romantic tryst with Elvira, but it wasn’t meant to be. I should have called her. But fucking Eddie Munster kept my dance card full.

The second half begins, and I have a grin and a waffle on my puss. Eating fast food in the Netherlands in the 70’s was torture. It was just as bad as in the U.K. You have no idea how much this ugly American jonesed for a Big Mac. The first McDonalds opened in London in 1975. I drove 45 minutes one way to eat there twice a week. If you’ve ever eaten a Wimpy Burger, you understand.

The cigar is going nuts on me. I call in Randle McMurphy. Nurse Ratched waits. Thank you falettinme be mice elf…again.

I will never forget this monumentally uncomfortable BJ. I was dating a beautiful stripper. With her mouthful, she looked up at me and asked, “Can I move in with you?” Gulp. (That’s my gulp, not hers). A conundrum worthy of King Solomon. Do I say no, and she bites it off? Or do I say yes and doom myself to becoming a pimp in perpetuity? I did what any man would do. I faked an orgasm and fainted.

This is a perfectly deep and rich cigar blend. I have differing opinions of blends from Andre Farkas, but this one gets the job done. And only $10. And only $9 with promo codes.

You can purchase this cigar from sponsor Small Batch Cigar (10% off with promo code ‘katman’).

RATING: 96

#3
Armando Artamendi Cabinet Selection Sun Grown | Cigar Reviews by the Katman
Wrapper: Ecuadorian Habano Colorado
Binder: Undisclosed
Filler: Dominican, Nicaraguan (Aged 5 years)
Size: 5.5 x 54
Strength: Medium
Price: $14.00
Released: March 2024

My cigars received 4 months of naked humidor time. Dry boxed 2 days.

BACKGROUND:
From Luxury Cigar Club:
“Pure Aroma Cigars is a company well-known for its D’Crossier brand. Started by Santana Diaz and Andres León, these two may be better known as the owners of the famed Tobaccos de Costa Rica factory, which creates cigars for many Casdagli blends and Selected Tobaccos. The Armando Artamendi Cabinet Selection Sun Grown is highlighted by a triple-fermented Ecuadorian Habano Colorado wrapper. Filled with a mix of 5-year-old Dominican and Nicaraguan tobacco with an undisclosed binder. These cigars are aged for 240 days in various cedar.”

THE WHOLE MEGILLAH:
Sharp aroma. Makes the newly shorn nasal hairs stand straight up. It’s red pepper. And strong barnyard.

My PerfecPunch is like a snapping turtle running for safety. One aggressive poke and it’s all over. Baby turtle eggs.

The cold draw is lovely with allspice, chocolate, berries, espresso, and black pepper.
I like how the cigar enters its death cycle. Nice smoke output. I never bring that up because it makes no difference to me. But in this case, I am swarmed by a sea of swarming simbas. I am in the eye of an elliptical blast. Yippy Ki O.

I sense manhood from a mannish boy, and I spell it M-A-N. This gives me hope that this is the gentlemen’s smoke we want from the churling of blues desire when we light up.

Occasionally, there is a roundness to a blend. Can’t describe it. Can only communicate it by spelling roundness. And hoping you have a touch screen. And taste-o-vision. Think Jetsons. Think how long it’s been since you’ve had to beg for kinky sex. My memory is full.

The blend tastes Costa Rican. Very smooth. No edges. No burrs. Lemony and creamy. A touch of black pepper. Petite notes of sour blueberry. Herbal tea is nice. A spicy nutmeg. And sweet cedar.

This is a good kick back and massage your balls when no one is looking kind of blend. Doubt if the manufacturer had this in mind…out loud.

80% Savory v. 22% Sweet v. 3% Oblique.

This tastes very similar to my yet unannounced Katman cigar from IGM. Oh wait. IGM and Tabacos de Costa Rica must be neighbors. They both make cigars for Jeremy Casdagli. Huh…

Sweetness would help this blend. I realize that aficionados appreciate this kind of smoke. Most cigar smokers aren’t aficionados.

Here’s what I think. This cigar needs a minimum of 6-9 months humidor aging. Charlie Minato once told me that if a cigar’s cello doesn’t proclaim that it needs extra humidor time…then it’s ready to smoke. I understood his gist. Still, when a fancy schmancy cigar has this kind of bio explaining aging and fermentation processes, I expect something better, even if at an early stage as a few months of sleep. I don’t taste all essential blender’s intent. I’d know. Now, I don’t know.

This cigar is a toss-up. I hoped earlier cigars would show promise but all I got was cigars screaming for me to throw them back in my humidor. So, I did.

The sign. The second half is much better. Does this say that it must sleep like a Padron or an OpusX? Fuck, I don’t know. At least this is a reasonably priced cigar…for today’s market. I would have unloaded a gunny sack of shit on this blend if it was in the $50 price range.

The second half is much better. Flavors of manly coffee, unsweetened bitter chocolate, tart lemon rind, creaminess, medium black pepper, Virginia ham with cloves, and nutty like Jerry Lewis.

I gotta give this cigar a chance. It did see progress over the last few months. There is a 50/50 chance that it will continue to get better with maturation. But it’s anybody’s guess.

You can purchase this cigar from sponsor Luxury Cigar Club (15% off with promo code ‘katman’).

RATING: 90

#4
Lovely Cigars Bay City Maduro | Cigar Reviews by the Katman
Wrapper: Mexican San Andrés
Binder: Sumatran
Filler: Nicaraguan
Size: 5.25 x 54 Robusto Gordo
Strength: Medium/Full
Price: $14.00

My cigars received 2 months of naked humidor time. Dry boxed 1 day.

THE WHOLE MEGILLAH:
I reviewed Lovely’s Ain’t They Lovely (95) in October 2022 and I reviewed their No. 162 (97) in February 2024. Good cigars.

It’s a lot of pressure on a young cigar company when they hit the 10 ring on their first two outings. I’m betting full fingernails are just a shadow of the past.

Great smelling tobbacular tube. I can smell the natural sweetness of the wrapper. This is rare my lads. Getting a cigar to taste sweet is a mean feat. Getting it to smell like a Snickers is damn near impossible. Sure, maduro leaves are known for giving a blend that little kick of fruitiness. Also included in this short stack are vibraphone solos of dark chocolate covered raisins, cinnamon toothpicks, and spicy red pepper.
The draw is plugged like a blue whale making a living retrieving range balls. Ploop.

My PerfecDraw is removed from my ample ass. I was sitting on it. No wonder I’m smiling like I did when my mom told me she found my ill-gotten Playboys. One swish and this urn for the bodies of once vibrant leaves is all she takes. You can swim the breaststroke while eating a taco and still get a good firm resistance on the draw.

And now for the important part. I get to smoke this cigar for the second time. I forgot. The cold draw. It’s OK. No one ever reads this part. It’s too far from the numerical rating. The draw spoons sweetness. I still remember French kissing Gene Autry while the Duke watched. That was sweet too. Hard to believe I’m straight.

Nice smoke output. Mmm… (he stares at the invisible ceiling), Mmm.(stares at the camera)…Mmm…Did you know that if you don’t cut the cap off, there is actually no smoke output. (Cap is actually clipped this time). Much better. Nice smoke output. (And we was hard pressed to find a smile).

Rich. I love that word. It could mean anything you fucking want it to mean. So, what does it mean to you? I don’t care. Leave a comment.

Range of flavors: Chocolate, day old root beer, black pepper, slightly creamy, black walnuts, flinty, mushroom, and aged oak.

The sweetness in the full-frontal aroma portion was deceiving. So far, not so much sweetness in the smoking portion. Odd. Early. Time to go before this snausage sleeps.
An inch in and the cigar gets a special delivery. The morphology of dancing begins.

Depth lands both feet like a troupe of marmots pre-vaudeville. The start was a little jagged. Smoothness erupts at the same time as the applause dies down. This is the right direction. I sense growth. Ever get a venereal wart on your wiener? Me neither. So, the doc has me on his exam table. I can hear the laser’s hum in the background. He asks where his glasses are. I nervously point to the top of his head. He laughs while I look for a way out. He asks the nurse to leave the room. No witnesses. Giant gulp. He raises a small vial attached to a needle the size of his bulbous nose. He tells me to take a big breath. He stabs my pee pee with Dr. Evil’s numbing medication. I pass out for a moment. When I wake up, he is using the laser on my poor little shrinking penile fleshy thing. 45 seconds later, he exclaims, “That went well Mr. Kohn. I didn’t feel a thing.” And throws his head back and laughs. I pass out again. When I woke up my wallet is back in my back pocket. I called off telling them I had a bad back. They bought it. I took photos. No one wanted to see them twice.

The cigar has burned all the way to the second half. Took too much time to write that last bit.

A good cigar but doesn’t hit my G spot like the previous two releases did. A decent cigar. Just don’t sense any particulars of individual purpose. The blend melds with a million other similars.

I pride myself on using the old tool called understanding the blender’s intent. Actually, there is no tool. Regardless, I’m not tasting it. It is asking any blender to nail it every time. It is so much harder when there is a spotlight on you. The Lovely boys need to stick it out and keep chooglin, keep their heads down, and keep making cigars.

When I got the IGM Katman blend, I thought not bad. Then 5 weeks later, I thought harumph, even better. Another month passed and I knew I had a winner. How deceptive is this? IGM Katman details coming soon. (Sneak peek: Wrapper: Costa Rican. Binder: Peruvian. Filler: Undisclosed Aged 3 years. And probably $10-$12 each depending on size. You will only be able to purchase them directly from IGM Cigars in Costa Rica).

You can purchase this cigar from sponsor Luxury Cigar Club (15% off with promo code ‘katman’).

RATING: 89

#5
Peter James Emergence | Cigar Reviews by the Katman
Wrapper: Ecuadorian Corojo Hybrid
Binder: Brazilian Mata Fina
Filler: Dominican, Nicaraguan, USA
Size: 6.5 x 50
Strength: Medium/Full
Price: $66.00

BACKGROUND:
From Luxury Cigar Club:
“Peter James is well known for its ultra-premium leather accessories, from cigar cases to couches. Their foray into cigars started in 2022 with the Los Estoico, which was a huge hit amongst our LCC Family. Emergence is a collaboration between Peter James and Luciano Meirelles. This beyond-premium cigar is a regular production cigar with very strict rolling restrictions. It is hand-rolled by a single roller and buncher, with a maximum of only 100 cigars per day. Using an Ecuadorian Corojo hybrid viso that undergoes an extensive 5-year fermentation process, this cigar will knock your socks off.”

THE WHOLE MEGILLAH:
My hands shake as I cradle a $66 cigar. In Europe, this kind of dough gets you an Alec Bradley. My friend, Georg Babb, has always kept me up to date on cigar prices. As an American with a serious cigar addiction, it is impossible not to sympathize with our NATO alliance members who make a whole lot more investment in their disgusting habit.

How is a cigar at this price worth it? The cigar industry is as skeezy as the music industry, which I ran from as a young man in his mid-30’s. No one keeps their word. Everyone lies. I feel blessed that the people in that industry that I deal with are all solid people.

I get the shakes when I contemplate spending $330 for any fiver.

A faint aroma that is more suggestive than substantial: salted caramel, barnyard, maple syrup, and buttermilk.

The draw is nonexistent. Lucky for me, I am the recipient of a PerfecDraw tool that will allow me to shove a pointy thing into my cigar and clean its arse like early wakeup call on D Block in Quentin. You don’t have to serve a deuce in a California prison to get yours. Tell Dr. Rod that Swifty Morgan sent you.

It is absurd that my two previous $66 cigars also needed a healthy prodding to make them smokeable (My head is shaking to and fro as I write these words).

The cold draw is mainly barnyard with notes of caramel, black pepper, malt, waffles, dark chocolate, and espresso.

Reputation’s changeable. Situation’s tolerable. Do I need to perform some type of ceremony as I bring torch to foot? Probably but I’m only wearing my prison jockeys.
This needs to be the best cigar I’ve ever smoked.

Surprise. Much better than the ones I smoked 6 weeks ago. A beautiful well-rounded fistful of flavors that says this may be that best cigar. So hard to produce a wrapper that tastes sweet. PJ accomplished it. I’m licking my chops for a solid two minutes once I prepared the cigar for sacrifice.

Salted caramel translates to a flavor I didn’t receive on earlier tries. The little bit of extra time made a huge difference. I will ensure that this cigar lasts well over two hours. I will pretend I belong to an elite social club where like-minded assholes discuss the market and why NATO should be disbanded. This may cause my indentured words to take longer than prescribed for a mini review.

I repeat myself under stress. I repeat myself under…the sweetness my babies. It wasn’t merely a fluke during the explosion of flame that scared the shit out of my poor Emergence. This is the real deal. (Face looks towards the heavens and says, “Nice smoke output”).

Only my recent outing with Somm’s BDX Blanc Box Pressed Toro Limited Edition got this kind of kick start. The mind falters at trying to categorize all the flavor elements whizzing by. Could this cigar really be worth $66? Maybe. I’ve cinched my prison loafers.

Creamy café au lait, milk chocolate with sprinkles, salted caramel, BBQ charred steak, just the right amount of spicy black pepper, maple syrup, almonds, cherry preserves, a slip of lemon citrus, and rose. While flavor points lean this cigar heavily into the Sweet v. Savory side of things, the base of the cigar keeps it on point. How do they do this? Dunno.

While this cigar is slim, it feels like an extra fatty boy. Complex is beginning to saturate.

Being a gerbil’s cousin, my pet ferret Aaron, lives in the world of shadowy greensmen and cynical rhythm guitarists. This ain’t a joke.

The Emergence is nicely transitional. I love a forward-thinking cigar blend. It is like finding two prizes in a Cracker Jack box.

I’m in the hospital as they administer the goof juice for my 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.

Construction is the immaculate profession. PJ’s rollers did a fantastic job. Everything I expect from a seriously expensive cigar is happening. I have all positives to report and zero negatives. Rather than bore the shit out of you, I’m going to kick back and quietly smoke until I have something to say that doesn’t make me sound like a turd. Tweeter and the monkey man. Time: Whizzing by like the cop car you were sure was going to stop you but zooms by to catch some other chump.

This was not a blend made in a hurry or found in some obscure farmer’s loft, long forgotten about and while once lost, is now found.

Chocolate surges along with the espresso. The creaminess grabs both by the balls and whips them into some kind of exotic dessert that will send you into diabetic shock.

I’m getting a little buzz now. It’s only temporary blindness. Not the kind that is permanent from excessive masturbation.

Ever notice that your local all-you-can-eat buffet TV advertisements always show skinny people eating at the tables of the restaurant? Skinny people are often eaten by mistake in the frenzy when new crab legs are placed out.

The second half. May I introduce you to the PJ Emergence flavor profile: Chocolate, cinnamon bun, extreme creaminess, almond butter, malt, cedar, maple banana bread, potent espresso, and a hint of butterscotch. Savory includes smoked meat and oatmeal. A superb cigar blend. My hat is off as I bow before Mr. James. Someone needs to help me up. Little flavor elements pop up for a few moments and then pass the baton to the next onslaught of flavor nuances. I didn’t expect this after disappointing try outs of the evidently too early dumb fuck tries.

Let’s face it, we can occasionally try our new cigars, so we get the gist of where it’s going. Or we can just put them away and forget about them. Most cigar smokers are in the first category because we are naturally curious…and impatient.

Strength starts at medium. A slow roll of power that induces partial paralysis by the last third.

I inadvertently went for a short review of this cigar expecting it to be a dud. It proved to be anything but a dud, and therefore deserved longer descriptions…along with a bunch of silly non sequiturs.

I’m happy to sit here and smack my lips indulging in the character of this blend. Actually, I’m never really happy. But I want you to think I’m well adjusted.

Is this cigar worth krazy dough? Most will say it is to be savored for a special occasion. But this cigar really needs your total attention while smoking or you’ll miss out on all the subtleties. It is those subtle notes that make this cigar an incredible cigar. Save it for when you’re alone.

The finish on this cigar is one of the best I’ve encountered. It is so rich and thick with depth of flavor. Just outstanding.

I plan on nubbing this baby.

I got an unforced 2 hours and 15 minutes. Take your time, my friends. Don’t exercise your prerogative by taking a “Let’s see” moment. Trust me, give it three months before lighting up.

The Peter James Emergence comes in three sizes: 6 x 54 ($66.00), 6.5 x 52 ($62.00), 5 x 52 ($60.00).

You can purchase this cigar from sponsors Small Batch Cigar (10% off with promo code ‘katman’) and Luxury Cigar Club (15% off with promo code ‘katman).

RATING: 97

And now for something completely different:

We had played our first gig in Amsterdam…always the first city on the European tour.
And we always took the opportunity the Dutch government provided by going to the Paradiso Club which was government run and required a lifetime admission of 5 Guilders. Back then, a Guilder was around 37 cents. The Paradiso was a multi-tiered humongous venue with different styles of live music on each floor.

It has a main auditorium for headlining acts. It was always a gas playing there because we would go to the basement, where the hash and weed was sold, and stock up for the entire tour…which normally lasted 8-9 weeks.

We were stoned out of our brains when we hit the big stage that first night. Stew and Sonja had a pension for dropping acid before a show. I had no idea at the time…I have no idea how they did that. I never smoked anything before the concert. After? You bet. Our last song of the show was the band’s theme song by Darryl Way called “Vivaldi.” He did a drawn-out solo in the middle which gave Stewart and I time to get stoned. The roadies had a pipe filled and ready for us. It gave us a whole new perspective during the encores.

After one gig, our Dutch agent took the band, and the main core of roadies, out to a late dinner.

Around 1am, we were stuffed. They paid us shit but the perks were good.
Our BTM agent, Rik, asked everyone if they wanted to go to the red-light district and get laid? Only Darryl and I raised our hands. The others were chicken shit scared.

Shit. We were rock stars! Rock stars aren’t afraid of STD’s. We were impenetrable. So, the three of us went to the red-light district pee pees in hand.

We got out of the car and surveyed the territory. The girls sat in tiny bay windows that were back lit with red lamps…an endless row along the famous canals.

Prostitution was legal and the girls had to get checked out on some sort of timetable. Of course, that didn’t help if the guy just before you had the clap.

Rik saw a girl he liked and went in. Darryl and I waited beside the car. He came out 5 minutes later and told us he had made a deal for all three of us. $20 each…$98.00 in 2021 dollars.

He announced that he would go first…since he was paying for it. I was nervous as hell as I had never paid for it…in cash, anyways.

He returned 20 minutes later with a shit eatin’ grin. He slapped us on the backs and proclaimed with pride; it was GREAT!

Darryl announced he was going next. Great…I was getting thirds. This did not make me happy.

All I could think of was a gooshy quedgie. But then these girls were pros. They wouldn’t last if they weren’t clean. Gulp.

Darryl returned 20 minutes later with that same shit eatin’ grin and bragged what a stud he was.
Now it was my turn.

I lumbered into the room. It was the size of a closet. Big enough for a single bed and a make-up table. The girl was of exotic Heinz 57 heritage…she was gorgeous.
I made small talk, but she would have none of it.
“Hurry up. Get your clothes off.”
I did as she commanded.

I tried to impress her with who I was, but she said that she only liked R & B. And had no idea who Curved Air was.
She lay on the bed and was naked from the waist down. She kept her halter top on. Well, that was no fun.
She handed me a rubber.
Then she took a handful of something from a jar and slathered her quedgie with it. All I heard was this squishy sound. I was losing my enthusiasm.

She jerked on my schmekel a few times to get me hard. I was scared and worried I couldn’t get a boner…but hey, I was 24 and anything could give me a hard on…so, it didn’t take long.
I climbed on board missionary style, and she guided me in.
Not 30 seconds later, she said, “Can’t you cum? C’mon…cum already.”
I told her to be quiet. I was concentrating.

She kept up this mantra and it was driving me nuts. Elvis had left the building.
So, I tried to take her top off. She stopped me.
“That will be another 20 Guilders.”

I didn’t have 20 Guilders on me at that very specific moment. That was around $5.00.
I couldn’t cum and I wasn’t having any fun, so I began to sing Simon and Garfunkel’s “Keep the Customer Satisfied.”

She got mad and let me put my hand inside her halter top if it would make me cum faster. I had to reach in from the top putting my elbow right in her face.
I succeeded despite the obstacles.

As I got dressed, she told me: “You didn’t drink tonight, did you?”
I smiled and said no. I don’t drink. “Why?”
She said the other two guys obviously had a lot to drink.
I looked confused.
Then she took her index finger…made it stand up straight and then allowed it to droop.
I laughed so hard my zipper closed all by itself.

So, after all this, I was the only one who get laid. The others were too drunk. And they came out bragging about how good it was.
I sauntered out to the car with a big smile.

They looked at me and knew in an instant that I knew. I knew they knew I knew. I knew.
They hung their heads and said nothing. I laughed.
It cost Rik $60 for me to get laid. I thanked him.

The experience cured me of my curiosity. The idea of paying for sex was wiped clean from my bucket List.

Photo taken at a park in Amsterdam during a music magazine interview. Notice who is posing for the camera and who are just casual:

Categories: CIGAR REVIEWS

Tags: 5 Mini Reviews: Luciano Underrated, Armando Artamendi Cabinet Selection Sun Grown, Lovely Cigars Bay City Maduro, Peter James Emergence | Cigar Reviews by the Katman, Viaje White Label Project Szivar EL