Complete disregard for life, limb, and common sense are all prerequisites for doing something deserving of the moniker "amazingly stupid." With this in mind, I decided to see how quickly, and how far down, I could smoke an 18" cigar with a 66 ring gauge. If you don't know how big that is, let's just say that men dream of it, and women would run in fear of it.
Why did I decide to do this? If there was actual rational thought behind it, it would not be an amazing feat of stupidity! Don't ask me silly questions! The cigar I decided to smoke is a genuine monster, the largest regular production cigar in the world: the Puros Indios Chief, one and a half feet long of rolled tobacco goodness.
This sucker comes in its own wooden "coffin", and it is literally large enough to be a stickball bat. Perhaps it should also come with rebate coupon redeemable at the local mortuary by the family of the person who smokes the damn things, but I digress.
I took the Chief to my local smoke shop, for a little poker and a lot of cigar smoking, along with the requisite equipment: a digital camera to document the fiasco, a measuring tape to measure the cigar at various stages, and a large kitchen knife for cutting the cap off of the cigar (no punch or guillotine would handle it).
The regulars at the smoke shop couldn't believe what I'd brought in: "You're going to smoke that thing?? Why don't you just cut it into four pieces and share it with us?" But I was too proud to be swayed by logic or practical concerns. A group effort was needed to torch this monster, I counted a total of four butane lighters being applied simultaneously to get the fire started.
Uh... you're going to do WHAT with that? | 
A hacksaw would have been more effective | 
Now that's a cap! | 
3 people and 4 lighters were used to torch it |
Damn this thing was big. While it wasn't childbirth or menstruation, I think I'm starting to understand the hardships women endure: after just 15 minutes of smoking it, my jaw started to ache a bit. The draw was actually relatively easy, the hard part was keeping it in my mouth -- and the taste was quite mellow and good, with soft leathery flavors.
Meanwhile, the ventilation system was kicked into overdrive in anticipation of the campfire-like smoke this sucker would give off. Apparently there were some boyscouts in the group.
No, this is not a gay porno | 
The smoking of 1,000 cigars starts with one puff | 
This baby uses up both sides of the ashtry, and then some! | 
Sure, why not add beer onto the massive nicotine buzz?? |
They actually had me draw a card from the deck to see who was the unlucky person I had to sit beside at the poker table. A social outcast: the man with the deformed cigarus giganticus is shunned by society. "Just don't burn me with that thing okay? I could lose an eye" Stinging words. I wonder if Ron Jeremy suffered this humiliation?
A few beers and dozens of poker hands later, an hour had gone by, and I was still puffing away. It actually was a pretty enjoyable cigar, but I was smoking it like a chimney, because I didn't want to be out until 2am trying to finish the damn thing. The length of the cigar after an hour's worth of smoking was about 12" -- not bad at all!
A moment of bliss before the fall... | 
I don't know either... tobacco ballet? | 
1 hour mark: 12" | 
Two finger's worth of band... |
As someone who has done things that require persistence and endurance such as weight training and marathons, I knew how to pace myself. I thought this would be a piece of cake, it really wasn't that big of a deal, after all the cigar was pleasant tasting enough. I just needed to constantly be drinking something, like pouring water over hot coals to keep them from burning out too quickly.
After another Pepsi and yet more hands of poker (I was actually winning at this point), we hit the 2 hour mark, with the length of the Chief coming in at a respectable 8" or so, counting the oddly shaped cherry. I had a nice happy nicotine buzz at this point, too. But this is where things started to fall apart.
When I hit the 6" mark, things started to get really bitter. I just couldn't keep up my pace, so I decided to eat a Calzone to help cleans my palate. That worked, but unfortunately it didn't cleanse the cigar much, which must have built up so much tar from the previous foot of it that I'd smoked that I could have used it to patch potholes in the road.
2 hour mark: 8" | 
Startin' to get a little dizzy here... | 
3 hour mark: 5" | 
Totally stoned on nicotine, and losing in poker |
Now granted, it might not have been so bad if I hadn't smoked it so quickly, but it was getting downright brutal. Still, bent and determined, and armed with as much Pepsi as I could handle, I pressed on.
At hour 3, we were down to 5" The guys at the poker table were in awe and disgust at the spectacle they were witnessing: "This is painful to watch, I'd have passed out an hour ago." Still, it was St. Patrick's day after all, if I turned green, it'd be quite appropriate.
I managed to drag myself to hour 4. The cigar was getting quite small now, and even bitter than before, but it still burned amazingly well. It measured in at 2.5". I lost all sensation in my tongue at about this point, it literally felt like I'd just been shot up with novocaine.
This is like sucking on burning asphalt | 
4 hour mark: 2.5" | 
FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WHY??? | 
Can this be considered a form of suicide? |
Then just when it couldn't get any more debasing, I decided to ratchet it up a notch. Because the cigar was getting so small that I couldn't hold it in my hands without burning them, I stuck a toothpick in it, and smoked it that way. The players seated at the poker table recoiled in revulsion at my misplaced dedication.
I managed to last another 26 minutes, bringing the total time to smoke this cigar to 4 hours and 26 minutes. I smoked it down from the original 18" to 1.75" The ashes in the ashtray looked like some weird fossilized dinosaur dung, not the remnants of a cigar. My tongue had also turned a rather sickly shade of yellowish brown.
Yeah, I think that about says it all | 
That ain't from lickin' no lollipop! | 
Final mark: 1.75" | 
Yep, every ash in this ashtray is from that cigar |
I had a very hard time sleeping that night because I was so wired on nicotine, and my girlfriend won't kiss me for at least a week. Hopefully my tongue won't fall off. Oh well, that's okay, it was all in the name of doing amazingly stupid things so you don't have to!
