Good day and greetings, all you red-eye unwashed plebians of the pipe...
...it has come to my attention via top secret channels through clandestine interchange that your paltry forum has fallen into pitiful disarray. This is apparently because there are no possessors of specialized knowledge left among you that are willing to withstand the foul stench of your pointless inane postings and uncleaned basket pipes filled with non- vintage drugstore tobaccos.
Worse yet, your ceaseless worship of very mild crossover blends like the limp wristed Frog Mortons give any pause to actually take you seriously.
Buying, filling, lighting, and actually smoking such an esoteric item as a briar root pipe seems, in the minds of those who know, to be beyond you. You wallow in the dark valley of corncob pipes (gasp!), Carter Hall "tobacco", (double gasp!!) and grubby Bic lighters. And you even seem to enjoy this squalor!!
Alas, how has this come to pass?
Not one exquisite hand-tooled mastodon tamper amongst you!
Then again, such luxuries would be wasted upon you, as you cannot discern the subtle nuances encased within the mythic discontinued blends, of which I affectionately only smoke.
As I recline on my bespoke calfskin settee, smoking a 1924 Dunhill Zulu Magnum filled with George Dobie & Son Paisley Flake from deep within my vast stores of ancient leaf (all cutter tops of course), I ponder the dilemma. How can such barbarian pipe people such as yourselves be brought into the bright light of fine high grade pipes and the truest ultra fine tobaccos?
The problem is especially difficult because those that profess to be keepers of the specialized knowledge are so horrified at your unkempt condition that they will not even don a hazardous waste protection suit and mingle with you members of the newbie masses. Indeed, there is a faint noxious odor coming through my gold plated keyboard, my vidscreen morphs into an eldritch horror of indecipherable illiteracies upon my happenstance visit here.
I will have to have my faithful manservant, Manchester, disinfect it later, after my usual lunch of cold Maine lobster salad, followed by Napoleon brandy and a bowl of original 1963 Balkan Sobranie Smoking Mixture in a 3 foot meerschaum carved by a Turkish disciple of A.Rodin, lighted and supported by two lovely honeydrippers dressed in traditional harem girl garb.
What to do? What to do? Indeed it is a serious matter. How can you cretins be brought up to the level of those true masters in the highest fine art of pipe smoking that shun your very existence?
Suggestions, anyone?
How can you ever gain the required obscure errata necessary to become an authentic connoisseur?
Alas, there may be no hope.
Now, off you go to smolder your steamy over-sauced cavendishes!
The Sophisticate
Post Script:
Of the over 36,700 individual blends that have been recorded in the Duke Street White Spot shop “My Mixture Book”, I will squash all dissent by stating that the finest blend ever available is my personal amalagation known as My Mixture #Zero a.k.a. Alpha-Omega Shell Flake, of that there is no doubt.
Mr. lowercase, I do believe I've never enjoyed being insulted so much before in my life!!! Such eloquence in usage of the Queens English!!! Bravo sir!!! :clap: :clap: :clap: :puffpipe: :mrgreen:
