1.Best Cigar Story Wins Package.

2.One Post per Day per S/BOTL

3.Will run for 1 week.

4 Good Luck!!

You didn't say if it had to be an original story so :

"We were in a cigar shop in Italy, and one guy asks me: Robaina, why does Cuban tobacco get infested with tobacco bugs whereas the Italian tobacco remains bug free? Because bugs don't eat ****" - Alejandro Robaina

R

Well, I think that PResident Clinton wins this one - do you have his snailer?

two winners so far...

nine

Come on Brothers,

rbmdd,not good enough,but I did laugh once! And if no one else post I guess you would be the ........

Kim(HV1)

ok, this is the best i can do. i'll call it "anything for pops..."

so, aside from a few coolerdors, i have two main humi's. in one, the bigger of the two, i keep most of my everyday stogies. no dog rockets, but in the smaller one that i always keep locked, i keep the (VERY) few isom's i have, and the select few others i either hoard, or am trying to age.

anyways, two years ago mrs. nine and i went on a cruise that stops in jamaica. there i watch a woman hand rolling some stogies. when she's up to 5, i stop her and purchase them. i smoked one on the ship that night, another about a month after we get back, and decide to leave the last three to a year or so, and to smoke 'm with two of my best buddies, who are into cigars.

one evening when pops was over, i purposely put a robusto size cao maduro towards the top of my everyday humi, cause pos only likes the smaller cigars. i went outside to soke just before him. when he comes outside he tells me that he took the "small one on top", to which i think is the maduro. he's smokin' it, telling me how smoothe and tasty it is, and i'm thinking, yeah, that cao maduro is one good stogie. after a few minutes, i notice how light it is, realize he's not smoking the cao. so i ask him to come closer and show me what he's smoking, and to my surprise, IT'S MY JAMAICAN!!!

i take a deep breath and ask him which humi he got it from, and he tells me it's the smaller one.

apperantly, i had accidentally left it unlocked...

oh well...anything for my pops...

nine

official E-Mail correspondence from the White House

From: Al Gore

To: President Clinton

Hey Boss I seen you enjoy a fine cigar from time to time. Tipper won't let me do anything fun, but she is away for the weekend harrassing vulgar rockers. I'm thinking of trying a cigar, would you give a smoking noobie like me a few pointers?

You're Buddy and Coat-tail Rider

Al Gore

Official Reply

From: President Clinton

To: Al Gore

Well Al I can strongly reccomend one you do not try. She is a big big fat toro wrapped in blue velvet, I believe its called the Lewinsky. She was foul and Acrid, Bitter even. Worst prelight aroma I have ever smelled, kind of like fish and wet ass. During the smoke i detected smells of old wood, trout and other marine life. The palate was not easily cleansed after, the finish stayed like a prostitute hanging on for an extra $20. Stay far away from this one Al, I bet Tipper would find out.

You're Friend and Boss,

Slick Willie Clinton

This is true but may not be a funny, Ha Ha, kind of story. My first cigar that I smoked was when I turned thirteen. For my birthday my parents took me to NYC to see a show on Broadway & then to dinner at "The Cattleman" restaurant (think that's what it was called). After finishing our meals our waitress, who was HOT, brought my mother a creme de menthe cocktail & brought two cigars for the men. One for my dad & one for me. She also came with a deck of cards & told me that she & I were going to play b

Black Jack aka 21. If I won I could take the garter off of her leg. I won & HUBBA, HUBBA I took the garter off of her silky smooth leg. *** Can you say SWING! ***

After my parents calmed me down & finally got me to leave the restaurant we strolled through the city with me inbetween my parents smoking my victory cigar. Passerbys were looking at the three of us with amusement & or disgust as I puffed on my first stogee. I probably didn't enjoy that cigar nearly as much as I enjoyed stroking that waitresses leg.

If anybody doubts the truth to this story, I'll have my mommy write me a note.

woody wood pecker went to bed unhappy though

I would really like to win this contest. It's hard to compete against **** Bill, however, God left me an opening. It was no one's fault, that the first woman who went swimming caused fish to have the smell that even He couldn't get rid of.

Later that day:

I was enjoying a nice bunch cigar at a local skate park. A really nice lady, some 10 yards away, noticed the smoke drifting in her direction. Later that afternoon, she came to me, and congratulated me on my choice of a fine cigar. I was very pleased to have passed at least one of her tests. Several days passed, we exchanged words, always friendly. Great, I thought, finally an attractive single woman enjoying the same things I like.

She's still a pleasant distraction at the park. However, her female life partner doesn't say a word to me when they are at the park together. I should have seen that one coming.

When I was a kid, my Dad would come down to Florida and visit every so often (split parents).

One time when I was around 15, he visited for a week or so and was staying at an old friend's house. The friend was a family friend so I was allowed to stay with him over there.

I was into pranks at the time, and for some reason or another, I had a package of cigarette "loads"........the little wooden things that would explode when lit. Our host was a notorious prankster as well, so I was hoping to get a chance to get him.

Anyway.........the fella we were staying with smoked little cigarellos of some kind........pretty much constantly. I get it in my head that I am going to blow one up.

When he was not looking I inserted a load into one of his smokes..........far enough in that he could smoke for a moment before it lit up. I put the smoke back into the pack, but left it hang out a bit.....to encourage him to select THAT one next.

Waiting game begins.

I'm giddy as hell waiting for him to grab it out, but he doesn't. The next fifteen minutes seem like hours!!!

and then............bad news. My dad has to run out and pick up a pizza we ordered. I had forgotten about this.........and I don't want to be alone with this guy when his cigar explodes.

What to do???

I have no choice.........I have to ride along with my dad and hope for the best.

On the way to the pizza shop, I fess up to pops; who thinks it is funny and suggests we hurry so we can witness the event...........good.........parental support.

We get back to the guy's house and I look to the shelf where he kept his pack..........LUCK!!!!!........it is still there, undisturbed with the "banger" sticking out.

Excellent.

Now we are BOTH giddy with anticipation.....hardly even eating. After a while it is like we can't keep our eyes off the pack. This guy just REFUSES to smoke!!!!!!!! We are both getting disgusted and distracted.....neither one even wants to leave the room to use the toilet at risk of missing the fun.

Just when it seemed like it would never happen, he reached for the pack and grabbed out THE one........HAH!!!!!!!!!

You could hear a pin drop as he applied flame to the foot. I am grinning like a cat and can't explain why.

My dad's gaze is absolutely fixed, but his eyes are squinted to avoid the impending shrapnel.

A tense moment.....................the passed.

Tick tick tick tick.........more seconds pass........no explosion.

Just as WE are about to explode, the guy takes a nice long draw and says....."Why are you BOTH staring at my smoke?"

"Are you expecting it to turn out like THIS one?"........as he reaches into a cabinet and pulls out a mangled split charred cigarello.

He proceeded to explain that he lit it when we were gone for pizza. After a few draws it exploded and scared him so badly that he jerked his head and launched his glasses into the air........and that the ensuing ballet of trying to manage burning shrapnel and glasses in midair caused him to slip and almost fall.............a pretty funny visual that we had unfortunatley missed.

He was a good sport about the whole thing..........and after all, he got us about as bad as we got him.

A good laugh was had by all.

true story.

Do you want original, funny or disgustingly funny ?

i like story 11.

what have i got??? AH! out here in japan, there are few cigar men. so, i try to get my coworkers into cigars...the first guy liked them, and we sould smoke about once a week together. he left. was replaced by a cigarette smoker. he was never really interested, but then we went to a bbq party at our boss's place...and dad smokes cubans. he gave us a couple of RyJ churchill tubos. my buddy asked if i could keep it in my humi for him. i say sure.

time passes, and i know he is going to a bar on sunday, so saturday, i bring him a cigar that i think he would like...LVH. he goes to the bar, lights it up (he is already lit up), and he liked it. he started going around the bar talking to every foreigner, and saying "this is a cuban, try it!" they all partake and say it is great! i get reports back the following day about the awesome cuban that i gave him...a dozen people loved it...i told him, and i LAUGHED MY A$$ OFF!

damn...

andys story was prtty good.... bastid....

nine

I really want to win this thread.

Don't make me cheat.

Maybe something about leis.

A co-worker trying to be one of the guys jumped into a conversation about cigars. When asked what was his favorite, he said, "It's a Boy."

^ now THAT is funny

Andy's story wasn't THAT funny......HMMMPH!

It was about cigarrettes as well, i thought the stories were supposed to be about CIGARS!!!

R

My story is still the funniest!

Key West.........July, 1989.

The three of us were due back in central Florida that afternoon.

Our junior year of high school had just ended and we somehow convinced our parents to let us motor down to the keys for a full week. Not really having any money, our vacation activities were limited to fishing out of the canoe that was strapped to the top of my 78 VW bus, drinking cheap beer, and eating out of cans of food we took from home.

It was a good plan, and we would have been OK if we had stuck to it, but fate intervened in the form of a loosely enforced policy that Gringo’s Cantina on Duval Street had regarding serving minors. After about eight rounds of margaritas, we stumbled onto the streets of Key West……….almost penniless.

What little money we had, I had the sense to stash in the van………it was about four bucks. I figured it might have been enough for gas to get us half way home, and we could work on our “plan B” while cruising up the coast and running out of gas. It wasn’t much of a plan, but we didn’t have much of a choice.

Once we agreed to our plan, we set about trying to find a way to score some beers……..I ended up playing guitar on the sidewalk, while my six foot seven “white-as-hell” buddy wailed Muddy Waters and Robert Johnson tunes. We got about $2 in sympathy change…….remarkably enough for a sixer of Busch. I also learned all the words to Alice’s restaurant………….one of the several homeless people we attracted with our performance couldn’t seem to stop a monotone rendition of it…….so poorly done that I didn’t recognize it until he went through the chorus several times.

Several other remarkable things occurred that evening………but I will not mention them out of respect for parties involved……including yours truly.

Skip ahead……….the next morning we awake to bright Florida sun shining through the window and into my bus. After offloading a bit of baggage that was sleeping sitting up in the front seat, we started the bus up and headed to get gas.

It was one of those old fashioned gas stations……with analog numbers and whitewashed siding on the front of the store. I started pumping, feeling the cool gas flow through the hose. I leaned on the side of the car and took my last look at Key West; quiet and tranquil and beautiful at this time of day. It took me a little while to realize that something was wrong…. the ticker was NOT registering the gas volume. By the time I realized what was going on I heard the hollowness of my gas tank collapse as gas rushed up the fill tube. I stopped pumping and put the nozzle back. About that time, I heard the doorbells ring as a grumpy looking pump jockey came strolling out. He had obviously had a very hard night and was not particularly glad to see a bunch of “hippies” standing in the lot.

“Whattaya Want?”

“Just topping off sir”

“Well you should come inside and got me……..how much did you pump?”

moment of consideration……………………….

“None…………just getting ready to”

“Alright…….here lemme set the pump.

**** **** ****……..the pump zeroed and I put the nozzle back in.

Sixty cents later……………CLICK…………….full tank.

A few hours later we were getting up towards the top of the Keys………..the celebration of our ill-gotten gains has long since faded into South Florida hot and humid and hungover malaise.

Being the driver, I had to focus on the road………..the other guys had nothing to distract them from the misery of riding in a steel bread-loaf in the middle of a ninety degree morning. Finally one said, “Stop here”.

I pulled over into the 7-11 type mart and parked………..expecting him to bolt and vomit or something. Instead he had a request…….

“How much money do we have left?”

“About three bucks and change”

“Dude…………GO into that store and buy like three BIG jugs of koolaid or something”

This notion seemed to pique the other guy’s interest as well, he chimed in…..

“YES…….orange drink, iced tea…………ANYTHING…………I am SO friggin thirsty”.

“OK, I said…..and stepped out and stretched my legs”.

The store was cool and air conditioned………I felt a little shocked from the change in climate and wandered around a bit. Just then, something caught my eye…………a little package of dimestore cigars………with beautiful black wrappers; which were probably just oiled cardboard….who knows.

To this day, I don’t know WHY I bought those cigars with the last of our money, but I will remember it forever because of the physical and verbal abuse I took for the next two hundred miles from two VERY agitated and hung over friends………………..who were also very thirsty.

True story.

I once purchased a case of rare, very expensive cigars, and insured them against fire! Within a month, having smoked my entire stockpile of fabulous cigars, and having yet to make a single premium payment on the policy, I filed a claim against the insurance company.

In my claim, I stated that I had lost the cigars "in a series of small fires." The insurance company refused to pay, citing the obvious reason that I had consumed the cigars in a normal fashion. I sued -- and won! In delivering his ruling, the judge stated that since I held a policy from the company in which it had warranted that the cigars were insurable and also guaranteed that the cigars would be insured against fire, without defining what it considered to be unacceptable fire, it was obligated to compensate me for my loss.

Rather than endure a lengthy and costly appeal process, the insurance company grudgingly accepted the judge’s ruling and paid me $15,000 for the rare cigars I lost in the fires. After I cashed my check, however, the insurance company had me arrested on 24 counts of arson. With my own insurance claim and testimony from the previous case being used as evidence against me, I was convicted of intentionally burning the rare cigars and sentenced to 24 consecutive one-year terms.

So don’t piss off your insurance company!

I later bought some 10 cent cigars and smoked them one by one....

(Maybe this was a dream I had...)