I have a voice in my head that cannot be controlled. The snobbish voice haunts me as some unsuspecting novice smoker walks into a cigar lounge and heads over to a specific selection of candy cigars. These cigars are very different from premium handmade long filler cigars because they are flavored, oh I'm sorry, they are infused with some mysterious ingredients (this is the shit that put the FDA on our trail). These infused cigars have to be quarantined so as not to infect other normal/traditional cigars with their bullshit additives. The voice wants me to hate this flavored shit stick smoker or at least inform him that he is upsetting the cigar gods that will bring peril to his destiny.
The voice continues to scour the room looking for more things to criticize under the guise of people watching but more like people judging. There he is. Another rube pouring peach flavored whiskey and lighting a 8x80 cigar. The voice in my head begs me to take an ash tray and bash his skull to a pulp. How dare he attempt to desecrate this holy place with that toxin. Deep breaths Bille, deep breaths.....
This voice is filled with humor and reactionary violence. I hate it but I love to hate it. It's a gift in that its the voice of passion and respect for the culture but its a curse that makes me feel guilty of being an extreme snob. Oh well, its the voice in the back of my head that no one knows about except me and anyone reading this post. What a minute? Is that asshole over there sharing a cigar with another man. It never stops..........
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