O boy! Soon I will smoke a Grand Cru PG. Can't wait to let you all know. Maybe during the Pistons game tonight.

I'm sure Tu Jacques La Flor will have his own take, and BoBo
as well. The mighty crow shall be the first voice on this site, though,
provided Stephen Jett, Esquire doesn't post a comment before I'm
done smoking it.

I can tell you from the smell that a theory is developing.

It was a dark night in Santo Domingo. The crabs were dancing on
the shore in disjointed rhythms which highlighted the sensual
shakings of a young lady, coveted by all (especially Mobb Deep)
and known by many. She called out across the islands, this
temptress, all the way to Nassau.

At the time Neil Young's "Captain Kennedy" played on the
radio. The siren scrambled the signal. She had this power,
for she was none other than the LE 05, which though
rather phallic in appearance is indeed a fine fine lady.

This aroused the attention of our hero The Hoody, who
shot up from the rolling table of one Avelino Lara and caught
a military vessel by pulling himself aboard starboard side
via the mooring lines swinging from the smoke deck.

The sailors grudgingly handed Hoody a new pair of coveralls
(incidentally, if anyone in the U.S. Navy is interested in
being issued a new pair just take a day of liberty and come
aboard a refugee, but I digress) which he didn't plan on
wearing long after landing in the Dominican.

Chasing the crabtrails, our Patron Saint of Balanced Flavor
and Exquisite Roll soon found Miss LE and ravished her.
Then rogered her roundly.

Before daylight, the two young lovers headed back for
Nassau to evade the Evil Duke Kelner who had no
interest in seeing the prophecy fulfilled by their breeding.
(Remember the witches in Beastmaster?) After two
months under the watchful eye of Enrico the Munificent
(what'd you expect? cigars don't have the same incubation
period as human beings. Jesus, read your anatomy texts
people!) a baby was born.

Lady LE was never heard from again, though some nights
she walks Blue Springs in a long black veil. The Hoody
divides his time between the Caribbean, London and
Shawnee, Kansas. Their lovechild, the Graycliff Grand
Cru (Crewie) has come to smite those who would replace
his mother with a feeble betittied imitation!

On a related note, Puros y Ron's cigar company of the year
will be forthcoming. There will be a deliberate and
careful study before announcing the winner. I invite all to
comment and vote, though this blog resembles an Ohio
Diebold machine. So, yeah, I'll determine the winner but
you can participate in your civic cigar duty to make yourself
feel good. For those of you looking to vote "Joya de Nicaragua"
I'm aftraid the lines will be long.

Very long. Suggestions?