Wrapper: Ecuadorian Habano
Binder: Mexican San Andrés
Filler: Dominican Corojo, Dominican Criollo
Size: 6 x 52 Toro
Strength: Medium/Full
Price: $14.00
Date Released: July 1, 2026
Quantity Released: 500 Boxes of 10
Factory: Tabacalera William Ventura, Dominican Republic
My cigars received 2 months of naked humidor time.
THE WHOLE MEGILLAH:
I’ve been lukewarm about the offerings from Bunny Droppings. The blends I’ve tried in the past didn’t deserve a serious review as they weren’t serious cigars. It takes a lot more energy to diss a cigar than rave about it…at least the way I do it.
The wrapper is chock full of ugly veins. But it has a beautiful caramel color that drips with oil. I am this close to being a fan.
The wrapper smells frootsie tootsie sweet. But also, a wonderful maltiness, extremely nutty, strong cedar, and peppery.
As my PerfecPunch hates that I make fun of its failings, I catch it whizzing past holding an Orange Julius and a giant Bavarian pretzel. OK, so maybe not whizzing…but certainly attempting to leave the scene as an uninterested bystander. I scoop it up with an old piece of baloney which is lounging near my foot, and I hear curse words that even I have no idea what they mean. I rope-a-dope the cigar’s cap and I get a perfect blow hole. Whew, this is just too much work. I show the PP a photo of Dr. Rod using a Xikar guillotine and there is a slight gulping sound. It bows on one knee and asks for forgiveness. I urge it to ride my nutsack to the depths of redemption.
The cold draw’s first recycling of flavor is cedar and the followed by sweet cream, baking spices, mixed nuts, and white pepper.
Very creamy start with overtones of that white pepper, salty pretzel, lager, and cedar.
And then a generic fruitiness. And I drop the cigar on the floor. Having learned its lesson, my PerfecPunch skips and then lunges to pick it up for its master. I tap its miniscule head with my bulbous Sacajawea.
The cigar is advertised as medium/full, but the early puffs tell me it’s a medium start. A nice easy-going blend.
I spent the better part of 2019 as an armed security guard for a Milwaukee synagogue. It was a terrible time as mass shootings happened in quick succession. Synagogues in San Diego and Pittsburgh had the Jewish community in a state of constant fear. While the rabbi had the best intentions, his brain trust didn’t like the idea of two heavily armed guards moving to and fro on the grounds and inside the synagogue. I brought my son-in-law, the SWAT cop, to consult about how congregants should react if something happened. The rabbi thought it was extreme. He couldn’t believe that in order to save lives, the older people with severe incapacities would need to be left behind to save others. Of course, this was last ditch under life threatening conditions. It meant that a terrorist was in the building and firing indiscriminately. Rabbi said he’d rather die trying. We knew he wasn’t taking this lesson seriously.
I’m an inch in and there’s little progression. Just a lighthearted blend that doesn’t require that you pay attention. Many yard ‘gars start this way.
At least twice per shift, either a funky car or a fancy car would find a place in the parking lot and the inhabitants would be on their phones and taking photos. I approached each one to tell them to leave immediately. As I got close, I assumed this would be my last day on the planet. My pistol was drawn and by my side. The middle eastern looking men would feign not understanding English. I would, in no uncertain terms, motion them to leave…with my .45 caliber Glock resting tightly in my hand. My Mossberg 12 ga. was strapped to my chest because I chose not to carry an AR-15…wet work was up close and personal.
I’m now finishing the first third and I fear that this is heading towards another Bunny Droppings bizarre stab at blending boutique cigars. At $14 a pop, it doesn’t need to be stellar, but I certainly expect some glitz.
The fruity sweetness is gone. The nuts have receded like a Sumu wrestler’s. The creaminess needs a kick in the arse. The cedar is a one-legged star.
The first half is a disappointment. This ain’t no Jack Kennedy.
The elders of the temple had the strangest reactions that translated into them being seemingly impervious to attack…” We are G-d’s children and He will protect us.” This was nuts. One regular guard was professional ex-military who knew his shit. But no one listened to him. He was employed for the sabbath on Saturday. It provided a sense of calm for me. But I was on-station several times per week and I was alone. The synagogue was huge and on a large plot of land that was indefensible. I would walk the exterior and on occasion, see suspicious cars parked nearby. I’d approach and they would take off. The local P.D. was small as the suburb was not very big. They would come to speak to the congregation, and I did not feel better after they left. It wasn’t uncommon as I walked the huge interior of the synagogue, that an elder would pass me and say, “You’re disgusting.” I worked on Sundays when the kids showed up for religious school and the older kids for Hebrew school. Without reservation, their parents extended their hands and thanked me profusely. When the kids had recess, I interacted with all of them. It was a joy. But the eye in the back of my head was always observing. After 9 months, I was burned out. I was tired. My back hurt all the time from carrying 45lbs of gear on me. I was 70. It was time to retire.
My ¼” front and back metal plated vest weighs nearly 30lbs and stops .308 and 7.62x54mmR rifle rounds. I would stand outside in frigid Wisconsin winter, and it helped keep me a tad warm…still -15° made my shift very long. I became a snow kone.
My fingers tap. I’m waiting for something to happen. Not a single transition worth mentioning. Flavors are gone except for the white pepper and creamy cedar. Strength remains at medium. This is a dud.
As much fun as it was being a rock star for a couple years while in my mid-20’s, I think that if I had continued to make a living in show biz, I’d have ended up unhappy. It’s a rough business and unless you are a wunderkind, your chances of still being relevant in your 50’s, and beyond, are slim to none. And then what? You start doing the cruise boat thing playing all the songs you hate? At 35, I chucked it in. It was traumatic and financially devastating but that’s show biz. How fortunate I was that I never stopped playing music as a side hustle. A musician’s gots to play…gots to create. Playing in front of thousands, or 12 drunks in a seedy bar. Either works. Now…I still play for myself. A very cool drum machine is all I need. And as my arthritis gets worse, I find myself upending the balance by often just happily staring at my gear instead of putting it to work. It makes the times I do play all that more special.
If the second third doesn’t show life on another planet, I’m chucking it. It burns me up to write negative reviews. They are no fun. Although, the reviews brought to my attention by you, are the ones where I go bat shit crazy eviscerating a cigar. It has to come naturally and that don’t come easy.
I’ve got Billy Joel’s last Madison Square Garden performance video (2024) on in the background. His sidemen have been with him for decades. These musicians are so polished that they are flawless in their presentations. It must be wonderful to find a golden star to hang onto for your entire career. But I am pretty sure that they are not making top bucks. In this situation, like McCartney’s band, they are paid well but the platform these two stars provide make them gold in the session world. That’s where they make their dough.
This entire review has been a time killer. This cigar is ca ca pee pee poo poo.
Someone keeps buying products by Bunny Droppings or the company would have gone belly up. Don’t let it be you.
RATING: 63
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Categories: CIGAR REVIEWS
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