|This blend is the tobacco equivalent of the Rococo period. I happen to be rather fond of the Rococo, at least in terms of music, painting, and church architecture. So far as tobacco is concerned, however, it would appear that my tastes run far more in the vein of Appalachia and, as such, I find this stuff to be utterly abysmal.
It comes in a firm, gooey brick in the tin. It is mostly black with a few shockingly yellow flecks throughout. In spite of what the tin says, they don?t merely stop with rose petals, there are entire crushed blossoms in there, though I can?t think why. At least I no longer have to wonder what it would smell like if I were to use an air compressor to spray Karo syrup all over the inside of a French whore house. It is nigh-on impossible to load into a pipe as one is unable to break it up or rub it out. Try to do so and you just continue to get a sticky clump that won?t come off of your fingers. If you ever manage to fill and light the bowl then you are in for a real treat. Rosebud Country Cut tasted like nothing so much as sweet and sour sauce, and I mean the really toxic, florescent variety that is served in strip mall Chinese buffets staffed entirely by Midwestern Caucasians. The inside of your mouth will feel wrinkled and dried out after only two puffs. If that is not enough, this rubbish is the single hottest burning tobacco I have ever smoked. It made me cry. My lips and tongue were covered in festering sores. Men ran from me, children screamed, women hid their faces.
Even the tin managed to torture me. It is one of those neat little square ones with a hinged lid, the kind that people will find in your study and will just stand there clicking it open and shut. The kind that kids and pre-teen girls really want you to give them so they can keep stuff in it, but if you do then other kids and pre-teens come and pester you to give them a neat tin too and though you have no other tins like that one they just won?t go away and will rattle through every other tobacco tin you have.
I just cant imagine myself saying this blend's name with my last breath.
And just what the devil is ?Country Cut? supposed to mean anyway?