Don't be a douchebag: Facebook edition

No fewer than seventy gabillion (and counting) Facebook cigar groups exist and many many Cigarz Facebookerz belong to at least half of those, with a handful active participants.

Dude, it's really really hard to miss you.

No biggie, right?

Right. 

Unless.  Oh yes. Unless.

(source)

Unless you happen to be friends with one of the oversharers. Then Facebook becomes the digital equivalent of Groundhog Day, but without Bill Murray's almighty quirkiness.  Here's how it goes:

Phase One: 

That's nice. A -----cigar with a pithy sentence or two. 

::scroll::

Oh. Same picture and text. 

::scroll::

Same pic and text. 

Or had to see the same Facebook post over and over and over...
(source)

Phase Two:

The picture and words. 

::scroll::

Picture. Words. Same. 

::scroll::

Is this ever going to stop? The same pictures and same damn words. 

(source)

Phase Three:

Dear God in heaven, is this ever going to stop?

::scroll::

What evil have I committed to make me have to look at this same picture and same text ad infinitum?

::scroll:: ::scroll:: ::scroll::

Unfriends that person, no longer caring about a long friendship or shared memories. You just want to stop seeing the same picture this decade. 

But I want people to see that I have this cigar, you say. 

No one cares.

(source)

There. I said it. And I know you aren't listening, instead thinking smugly, "You aren't talking about me. People want to see what I post."

Yes I am. And no...they don't. 

Choose two groups and post your picture. If you can't choose just two, then stagger your posts over the course of the day and change the damn text with each post. If you can't think of clever text to go with the picture, then why the hell are you putting it up at all?

(source)

This is no pig in a poke Or: These Flying Pigs landed right in our humidor

When a friend who knows umpity-gajillion things about cigars texts and says he has something super special in his work humidor that you might just want, you don't say, "Hmmm. Let me think about that and get back to you." You say, "Fuck yeah. I'll be in Friday."

That's what happened with our friend Jake, Jake from Ale House. He was the texter, in case you weren't following our precise line of reasoning.

It's Jake. Jake from Ale House.

So now we own this:

Open sesame.

 

Ooooh. Purty.

Surely I can't possibly tell you anything you don't already know about this pen of pigs, 
like the San Andrés Negro wrapper, the Connecticut River Valley Stalk Cut and Cured Sun Grown Habano binder, and the Brazilian Mata Fina and Nicaraguan Habano filler.

A sexy 4 1/8 x 60

Or its super sassy shape. So, in case there are three of you in the world (and I was one of them not too long ago, thus making four) who don't know, Flying Pig is a shape, not just a fun name to say and imagine.

We were all ready to share, in our own words, because that's the right thing to do, the Undercrown Flying Pig info with you.  But the story of its inception is so fantabulous that paraphrasing didn't do it justice. So here, swiped from the Drew Estate website, is...not really the rest of the story,* but the whole story:

"In early 2009 we asked our torcedores to smoke less Liga Privada cigars because they were leaving too few to be exported. This request was met with the disappointment you would expect, but rather than being disgruntled they responded by blending their own signature liga.

"Incorporating many of the same rare tobaccos, but of different vintages and primings, the cigar they created was no mere replacement. Rather it is an exceptional smoking experience of uncompromising quality and flavor that deserves to be smoked by all.

"It is always the master makers who are heralded, but the reality is that great cigars are the product of many talented people, most of whom toil in factories with no publicity ever. They are the uncelebrated heroes who make all of our lives more pleasurable with the cigars they craft. And therefore, it is with great pleasure that we are now sharing their factory floor creation with you as Undercrown, borne of our worker’s ingenuity, resourcefulness and passion for a great cigar."

This short, stout perfecto was initially released in the Netherlands and the world (except the Netherlandiers? Is that a word?) had the sad. But in June 2012 and again in August 2014, they became US citizens--and were summarily sucked up (and sucked in) quickly, which is why we were all "fuck yeah" when Jake beckoned.

Why the drooling cigar smokers jousting for the rogue box? Why can't there be a pig in every pot--or humidor?

Because the rolling process is completed by two mere mortals only.** "Described by many as one of the best and most satisfying Ligas ever produced (Undercrown or not), the Undercrown Flying Pig is a rare treat that every cigar enthusiast and collector alike should strive to have in their humidor." [source]

Valentino couldn't light it up fast enough and made sure Caballero #2 laid his hands on a couple also.*** When the hero of our story revved it up and the smoke started billowing, man, oh, man it wafted chocolate, vanilla, and coffee right smack dab into my sensory receptors. Honestly, the people who make faces and bitch about cigar smoke need to 1. Actually wake up and smell the smoke and 2. Shut the fuck up.****

Cabellero #2 partakes.

Of course, when we answered the Call of the Undercrown, we didn't just walk out with that one product. There were more purchasing shenanigans. Read about them here! You won't be sorry. Annoyed, maybe. Probably even bored. But sorry? Nope. See you there!

P.S. As a return favor, I worked some magic for Jake, Jake from Ale House. Well, not really magic--more like put my research savant skills to work for him.  He told Valentino about a cigar he loved but hadn't been able to find. Fingers ablaze, I found those motherfuckers***** for him, sent him links, and said "You're welcome." Boom. Mic drop.

 

 

*Anyone else still miss the late, great, Paul Harvey?

 

**And no superheroes

 

***You may start singing "That's what friends are for." You're welcome for the earworm.

 

****I'm very swearish today. Must be the prednisone talking. Or bitching.

 

*****Four swears