A very upsetting thing happened to me today while I was enjoying a fine cigar. It was actually the Camacho 10th Anniversary cigar. I've been smoking cigars a couple months now but this was BY FAR the best cigar I have ever had. It was sunny and I was sitting outside enjoying the 75 degree weather and the spring air. I had some classic Hip Hop playing on my computer that only added to the relaxed mood. By the time I got half way through the masterpiece I was in awe and I had begun drifting off into my thoughts.
I just started the final third of this wonderful stick when I felt a slight pressure down south. I was reluctant, at first. After all, I didn't want to foul the smoky spring air with my foul stench but I was just feeling too damn relaxed to hold this one in.
I let it rip!
Not being entirely satisfied, I squeezed a little extra bit of this one out.
I'm not sure what hit me (perhaps it was the smell) but I suddenly snapped out of my wondrous euphoria and the harsh moist reality set in. I had, in the middle of a classic Nas beat, shat my pants.
Yes, this cigar is so good that you may actually shit your pants.
I immediately ran to the bathroom to clean my shorts, take a shit and a shower and then returned to finish the cigar.
I suppose when one finds the perfect cigar, one knows.