Once again, I put my wisdom aside for three short reviews…missed the boat once again as my fingers know no boundaries…maybe next time. To make things worse, I added my musical encounter with a Charlie Manson clone at the end of my manifesto.

Arturo Fuente Hemingway Untold Short Story Maduro (2013) | Cigar Reviews by the Katman
Wrapper: Connecticut Broadleaf Maduro
Binder: Dominican
Filler: Dominican
Size: 4 x 46/49 Figurado
Strength: Medium/Full
Price: $12.50 in 2011

My cigar received 13 years of box aging…including 11 months of naked humidor time.

THE WHOLE MEGILLAH:
The Fuente company has found a place in American society. You say the name to a cigar smoker and there is an immediate Bobble Head up and down reaction. Sometimes we feel that Fuente blends have become so familiar that we don’t see the need to revisit the brand as often as we might. Instead, we hammer down on the revolving door of new cigars. It’s a given that the Fuente organization makes consistently excellent cigars.

This dainty vitola smells like Euro chocolate and freshly harvested sweet black cherries. There are additional notes of pipe tobacco and barnyard.

The resistance of the draw is unflawed. You never know what to expect from a cigar over a decade old. This one cuts the mustard beautifully.

Turkish coffee with chocolate sprinkles. Yeah, nailed it. That description was not my imagination…it was written in stone by Fuente.

Very toasty…much more so than most Dominicans I’ve smoked. There is a scoche of sweetness. But it is the sheer opulence of this blend that makes it an automatic winner.

The cigar has been beautifully curated for keeps. It is plump and burns like slow moving lava. This mini-Grand Teton promenades as it sees its immortality left in the hands of a commoner living in Mayberry U.S.A.

Blends like this don’t come around often. It makes this old man happy that I am still kickin’. This is an authentic cigar adventure reigned in only by the limits of my palate. Based upon my karma, I will be coming back as a caterpillar. No idea how I will smoke cigars with those little arms. Not to mention no place for my wallet.

Black pepper at its finest. It tastes like perfectly charred crust on an impeccably grilled steak.

Ever take too much acid…and when the blackout ends, find yourself in Afghanistan working for ISIS? Me neither.

I checked out reviews that occurred soon after it was released. It got mostly a ‘meh’ reception. Time has been the true judge of this blend. I’ve been hawking this concept from the beginning but is anyone listening? I wonder if this cigar was ready to be fully appreciated after only 10 years of box aging…I bet it was.

This cigar was a joyful experience. To blather on with verbiage and adjectives seems foolish…even though that’s my job.

A supreme exhibit of cigar blending at its best.

You can purchase Arturo Fuente cigars from my sponsor Small Batch Cigar (10% off with promo code KATMAN).

RATING: 100

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Viaje Skull and Bones Tsar Bomba Camo Red | Cigar Reviews by the Katman
Wrapper: Undisclosed
Binder: Undisclosed
Filler: Undisclosed
Size: 6 x 56 Toro Gordo
Strength: Full
Price: $17.00
Factory: Undisclosed
Cigars Released: Undisclosed
Release Date: Undisclosed (December 2023)

My cigars received Undisclosed months of naked humidor time.

BACKGROUND:
From Viaje Cigars:
“Undisclosed.”

THE WHOLE MEGILLAH:
The single aromatic is barnyard…otherwise the wrapper seems to be entering the general procedure cloaked in mystery.

An impeccable specimen for my PerfecPunch. The draw resistance is spot on. My PerfecDraw lay in repose…staring at me with those Marty Feldman eyes.

Love the cold draw: spicy Mexican chocolate, cinnamon, cumin, good coffee with cream, and potato chips.

There’s a red hue to the wrapper that I hadn’t noticed in room light. When I don the signal light that aliens gave me in 1998, the tint is highly accessible.

Normally, I’m not a Tony Soprano kind of guy who loves gigantor sizes. Large cigars rarely have the complexity and richness of a smaller vitola. Sometimes there are great exceptions to the rule.

My dad would go into work on Saturdays, and he’d throw my 13-year-old ass into the drafting department…I learned to draw structural steel. In my 35-year career as a construction manager, I had a nice side gig doing contract work. Unfortunately, I’m now cursed with perpetual spatial recognition. I see the world as circles, triangles, and straight lines. Hallucinogens and lack of sex don’t help the affliction all that much.

The start is full of flavor: Cinnamon, red pepper, creaminess, the Mexican chocolate continues, sweet unsalted butter, brown sugar, and raw cashews.

All three Camo blends are kick ass in the strength department. My accelerating decrepitude has brought on a civilized case of the wussies. I occasionally treat myself to a self-induced coma but on most days, medium is my go-to.

“Get Together” by The Youngbloods. It was the theme song of the 1960’s. The Way Back Machine sends me back to Sunset Blvd on a Saturday night. Everyone smoking J’s and passing them to strangers…running into rock stars partying. That time will never be repeated.

And then disappointment begins…after two inches, I’m unhappy that the blend fails to be transitional. Complexity is miniscule. Only a nice depth keeps the blend’s head above water.

The first half has been a frustrating letdown. Something went awry. I hope the second half kicks it. I dig the Viaje brand. But since Andre Farkas releases a prolific volume of cigars, they can’t always be diamonds.

1972. I’m having sex with this fine girl when I notice her toes are webbed like a duck. Freaked me out. Afterwards, I give her the tried and true ‘I gotta get up early.’ I felt guilty. But then I found out my bandmates arranged the whole thing to ease the slings and arrows of my finalized divorce. Never take for granted the gift of having good friends. I heard that she found work at Sea World.

I’m puffing away awaiting a turn of the screw. Linear is the watchword for the Red.
At the end of the day, we’re all misguided. I expect more from a $17 stick.

The Red is a pass. With two inches to go, the cigar won’t improve, and neither will I.

You can purchase this cigar from sponsor Small Batch Cigar. Do you have to pay $17.00 like the rest of us schmucks did? No. You don’t. SBC has them in their clearance aisle along with the very good Gray and Red blends. You get 40% off + 5% rewards points if you spend a minimum of $50 using the code: CLEARANCE.
This killer deal gets you a maniac cigar from Andre Farkas for only $10.20 each. You don’t have to sit on my lap or my rabbi’s lap to get this deal. You’re welcome.

RATING: 85

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Viaje Skull and Bones Tsar Bomba Camo Blue | Cigar Reviews by the Katman
Wrapper: Undisclosed
Binder: Undisclosed
Filler: Undisclosed
Size: 6 x 56 Toro Gordo
Strength: Full
Price: $17.00
Factory: Undisclosed
Cigars Released: Undisclosed
Release Date: Undisclosed (December 2023)

My cigars received Undisclosed months of naked humidor time.

BACKGROUND:
From Viaje Cigars:
Undisclosed.

THE WHOLE MEGILLAH:
The following review is undisclosed.

My goody buddy, Daniel Perez, reviewed this blend on October 7, 2024. Without taking a peak at his post, I decided to put my two cents in.

A Rastafarian display of aromas…spicy aromas of assorted hot peppers, baking chocolate, caramel Crunch n’ Munch popcorn, cloves, marmotian jerky, and cinnamon graham cracker.

I reenact the shower scene from ‘Psycho’ by stabbing this gargantuan cigar with the PerfecPunch. I purposely thrusted only once which means I owe Dr. Rod $1.37. I’ve had his punch tool for perpetuity and the blades never dull. Read all about it on Kurthy’s product page.

This is how Dr. Rod wants to go out…laid out in resplendent trans clothing nailed down to a pool raft from Walmart. He will be set on fire while we push him down the L.A. River. He has asked that I perform a Pagan funeral that includes the eating of raw toad livers and fried camel bunions. Then there will be the ritual downing of ancient peyote tea…and then half an hour of vomiting…and finally, all his relatives will dance naked around the faux Rod figure I will make out of papier mâché.

The cold draw perceives dark chocolate as its highest paying resident. In queue behind the cocoa is peppermint, caramel, freshly brewed coffee, red pepper, and baked apple with lots of cinnamon and cream…my mother didn’t bake much, but she made a killer baked apple that I have not been able to replicate. Her mother-in-law, from Hungary, gave her the recipe…and now it’s gone. We all miss momma’s food.

This is my third stab at the Blue and each smoke session was a commitment of 2-1/2 hours.

I tried Nutella Spread for the first time while I lived in London. I loved it. I also tried Vegemite (a thick dark brown Australian food spread made from leftover brewers’ yeast extract). Vegemite is dreadful…imagine pairing day-old cheap beer with congealed dreams. Of course, we Americans have tuna casserole…I’ll take Vegemite.

For a full-strength cigar, the first two inches have been incredibly smooth. Velvety smoke rolling around our mouths may be the most requested characteristic by any rank-and-file cigar smoker.

Out of nowhere comes a gorgeous floral quality to both taste and aroma. Man, this blend is slaughtering my preconceptions.

A 12-year-old bourbon note appears in inch 3. The blend is wonderfully transitional. One moment my palate tastes caramel and the next roasted coffee. After that, chocolate provides profound depth while creating sublime intricacy that has my attentiveness.

The second half sees the cigar meeting its fate as a full throttle blend. My eyebrows arch as my ass begins to be collapse into my chair.

When my mother caught me smoking a cigar, she told my dad to go ahead and kill me. He didn’t. He took me aside and told me to be more discreet when I stole his cigars. I was 15…I’d been stealing Playboys for two years.

If you’re a pissant, a girlie man, or a weak stick, this ain’t the cigar for you. You might want to buy some for your older brother.

The Blue has me rockin’ and reelin’.

You can purchase this cigar from sponsor Small Batch Cigar. Do you have to pay $17.00 like the rest of us schmucks did? No. You don’t. SBC has them in their clearance aisle along with the very good Gray and Red blends. You get 40% off + 5% rewards points if you spend a minimum of $50 using the code: CLEARANCE. This killer deal gets you a maniac cigar from Andre Farkas for only $10.20 each. You don’t have to sit on my lap or my rabbi’s lap to get this deal. You’re welcome.

RATING: 96

Don’t forget to enter the SWAG Daddy Contest!
And check out Katman’s Kartel page at Small Batch Cigar and score deals on cigars from My Top 32 Cigars of 2023 ~ Rated 96 or Higher!

And now for something completely different:

It was the late 70’s and I was a sideman in a three-piece rock band. The leader had an in with some kind of fraternal lodge in the touristy mountains that surround L.A.

I played with them several times. The threesome got paid a handsome fee of $1200 per night ($5800 in 2024 dollars). Yeah, man…that is a lot of dough for a bar band. The usual pay was $50-$150 per man. It’s not much better now. I was making my house payments with that gig.

And then like all bands do, it fell apart. The leader got tired of it all. He got tired of it all one week before our next gig!

He told me I could continue with the gig, and he would put in a good word with the head Poohbah of the lodge.
Now, I had to put a band together.

No internet back then so I found two musicians the regular way…trolling the musician classifieds in the local free magazines.

I spoke to a lot of musicians and decided on a drummer and guitarist that were already working together. The guitarist sounded solid on the phone and he and the drummer had worked some solid gigs. The best part was that they focused on country music. Huzzah! Perfect for playing the hinterlands of L.A. Tunes were quick and easy to learn.

We scheduled our one and only rehearsal just days before the gig.

I offered them $200 each ($968 in 2024 dollars) for the gig and they accepted. I was the boss for a change and these were my sidemen, simply put…my hired guns.

Imagine my shock when I saw them drive up in a 1965 VW bus covered in religious stickers…covered the bus completely. Not an inch of the original paint was exposed.
The real jaw dropper occurred when they got out…the guitarist looked dead balls exactly like Charles Manson…but with a peg leg. He had the same long haircut. The only thing I kept looking for was a swastika between his eyes. Scared the living fucking shit out of me.

And then, the fait accompli, his name was fucking Charlie.
His fucking name was Charlie.

I had an urge to call whatever prison Manson was in to make sure he was still there.
The drummer was fairly normal…as far as drummers go.

It was a given that Charlie the guitarist was nuts, but he could play and sing well. And the gig was in 4 days…I had run out of choices, and I wanted that $1200.

We arrived at the gig. We walked in while 200 people were eating…and you could hear a pin drop when they saw Charlie Manson. To make things totally gonzo, he was wearing a shiny silver suit with bangles everywhere. His lapels had huge black crosses with giant likenesses of Jesus…in sequins of course.

And when he walked across the room, mouths dropped as the comparison to Manson was not just my impression.

The Grand Poohbah told us to leave. I said pay me and we will go. The Poobah loved his money…we were told to go ahead and play.

I had brought a buddy of mine, Douglas Page, from Long Beach. We drove separately from the other two musicians. There was no way I was getting into that VW camper bus with those fucking weirdos.

It was possibly the weirdest gig I had ever played. In between songs, Charlie would try to proselytize. The Glory of God and His Son!! I dropped my head and kept thinking how I was going to have a big wad of dough in my pocket at the end of the evening. The Poohbah always paid in cash.

We finished our four sets and I got the dough. Now since it was my gig and I had no intention of playing there again, or playing with Manson and his drummer ever again, I paid them their agreed upon $200 each. I pocketed the rest of the dough. There was no way that Charlie didn’t see me get the huge roll of dough from the Poohbah. I had hoped to do this in private, but the Poohbah was this huge fat guy that stepped right out of “Goodfellas.” He wanted everyone to see how much money he had.

We went to a local Denny’s after the gig. The boys in the band now knew that I had not split the dough equally. They refused to sit with Doug and me. Like I gave a shit.

We kept getting the stink eye from their table. Doug was freaked as having a Manson clone staring at us with evil eyes caused him to want to leave immediately.

We finished our finely catered crappy Denny’s food and were on our way. I went over to the guys’ table and reached my hand out to thank them for the gig. They refused to shake my hand. I didn’t care. I felt lucky I didn’t get my throat slit…and then my blood used to spell “PIG” on my chest.

Doug and I headed out to the parking lot and saw that someone had flattened all four tires of the VW bus. Holy shit. Must have been somebody from the lodge we just played who followed us.

I burned rubber in the parking lot…we made a beeline out of there.
Never heard from Charlie again.

As I look back, we should have immediately returned inside to tell Charlie what happened. That would take us off his Murder List. But we didn’t. Didn’t dawn on us til we were 10 miles away that maybe Charlie thought we had done the nefarious deed.
For a year, I kept a sawed-off shotgun in my car. And a revolver on my person.
And I never listened to “Helter Skelter” again. You can’t make this shit up.

Categories: CIGAR REVIEWS