Big Doinks
Why gaze into the abyss when you can smoke it?
At some point in the endless deluge of “deals” between Black Friday and New Year’s, I renewed my Gentlemen’s Quarterly subscription (hi Will) and I’m fairly certain it alerted the matrix that I identify as dude.
For the record, I identify as Nick, and my pronouns are silly / goose.
In any case, I have begun to receive unsolicited cigar catalogs.
“But but but Kelsey Plum has a signature cigar line! They’re for everyone…”
First of all, comments are turned off!
I’m well aware my WNBA crushes (nothing romantic, just want uppies) are lighting up in their designer pantsuits. But historically, stogie culture has been a domain of the fellas.
Freudian much?
Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.
And sometimes it is the Diesel “Rage” Toro, one of twenty in the freshly discounted Diesel Mega-Sampler® II “that’ll put bass in your voice and vertebrae in your back.”
Perhaps you are more of a Gurkha Black Ops puffer?
“If you bring a knife to a gunfight, good luck, because chances are things won’t turn out so well for you. Luckily, Gurkha Black Ops bundles come fully equipped.”
My brain hurts.
Admittedly, this is not my area of expertise…
I am unfamiliar with any tobacco product that has not been hollowed out and replaced with aftermarket parts.
Don’t mean to disparage any Cigar Aficionados in the chat, either.
If you enjoy ‘em, more power to you… no hobbies / interests / etc should be judged by their goofiest examples!
I hope you can all one day monitor the temperature and humidity of your multiple humidors from a mobile phone app.
Thinking about David Lynch’s emphysema all weekend, I’m relieved smoking is a vice I was never particularly inclined to pursue. Same for its various synthetic siblings… I’ll throw in Galaxy Gas just because.
It’s not great for your body!
Most stuff isn’t, but take the wins wherever you can.
It’s currently inauguration day, speaking of brain hurt. The third Monday of a year that already has enormous “smoke ‘em if you got ‘em” energy.
The firefighters need Zyn…
The bodegas sell fake Zyn…
Rizzler’s shirt goes OD hard but please protect our little Buddah from this world.
Addison Rae “Aquamarine (Jacques Greene Edit)” — being super pop and super cool is a tricky needle to thread but the rewards are plentiful. No half measures; either you micromanage your vision and listen to no one, or find a dope team and trust them with every single choice. Addy has done the latter with way more finesse than her TikTok roots would suggest. Sean Price Williams! Arca! The results work so well that even JG will get in on the action for free.
Bb trickz, “I wonder (what it’s like)” — another moody one with post-Charli energy. Whispered voice notes over club kicks… Brat Winter is here.
Cumbia Machuca, “Cumbia De Los Bee Gees” — “During the 1980s, a group of music dealers and record collectors from Mexico City joined forces to create a series of illegally manufactured vinyl records containing rare and highly-sought hits from Perú, Ecuador, Colombia and beyond.”
Related: Jamie Ruelas’ insane, sci-fi inspired Mexico City soundsystem flyers.
Dr. Octagon, “Blue Flowers” — even at the peak of ‘90s Alternative Nation derangement, I would not believe you if you told me Dr. Octagonecologyst would one day get a deluxe vinyl reissue on Interscope. But any Kool Keith in the world is a net positive! Dig for the die-cut Mo Wax 12” if you can, it smells like crayon.
Skiifall, Lovers Till I’m Gone — slow wine, right on time.
Playlists updated…