I AM A FAG XX

It's a sad time in a young woman's life (yes you heard right, woman..) when she finds herself singing along to 'going under'-evanesence on a shameless commercial radio station, combing her fingers difficultly through her 10-day-unwashed hair, perving on "oh yes he's got a nice arm nice car nice tyres.... oh he's 50+ and possibly balding and definitely revolting.."..and pondering her existance based on the fact that her passenger seat is empty bar the empty coke can and a shitload of sand. See i made the realisation today that well i have 5 seats in my car. So why is only one of them occupied by an ass? ah. What i'm talking about is an empty spot deep within my being that, until today, was unfilled and void-like. My life changed (slightly for the better) after purchasing Superking Blues.

Now initially i was drawn to them because the name sounds like a brand of condoms, or the developmental name of a sure-to-be-long-running adult only pay TV series in which many a loose whore gets pounded ruthlessly by super-duper horse-sized penises. And of course the cheap as shit price tag had me hooked. Did someone say bargain? Now Superkings really can be described as a cigarette fit for a king. Hardy, tough, large, ever so firm, ah. ah. mmm. And as i took my first impressionable drag, well, let's just say things went a little flacid. The fun was over all too quickly. Again i was harshly reminded to never judge a book by its cover (in this case of course, it's never judge a cigarette by its name... ah.)

Look when things go south and i'm left with a limp carrot rather than a raging freshly-picked continental cucumber, there may still be fun to be had, right? Yeah. right on. SO although the decline of my liking of these cigarettes continued as they smouldered ever onwards, i cant honestly say they were that bad. "How was it?" "oh yeah, it was fine" type shit.

No one should ever diss mediocrity. You could do worse, right? Yes. yes you could.
And as the sun set beautifully over Ipswich (yes i was in Ipswich, ok?? i'm sorry. look i just drove. ok. i didnt plan it. ok. it just happppppened..) i did begin to take a shining to these big kingboys. Like a nasty rash (ew?) they grew on me as the evening commenced. And maybe it was the influence of a comfy-as patch of green grass and the slight easterly breeze and a effing good novel that dressed me in my happy pants, but i really grew to accept them for what they were- a cheap-as-goon 'that'll do' type cigarette. Wow, if you peel away my layers upon layers of bitchy judgemeental shithead there might actually be some good in there? (but now we're getting ahead of ourselves a little...)

Believe it or not, i shall now cast down numbers to emphasise specific downfalls and wins in these babies. oh.

Attractiveness of Pack- With a metallic gold exterior, a racingstripe-esqu embellishment, and a dominating SUPERKINGS!!!! blazened on the pack, you can perhaps understand why my easily-pleased (ha) self initially assumed these dears had a lot to offer. Tall and thin, the pack can be likened to that fucking-i-hate-you-SO-much-some-girls-are-so-fucking-genetically-blessed tall skinny bitch walking insultingly tall and proud in front of your frumpy average butthead self. Though much like many of these supermodel-esque beings gracing our planet, their interior is empty and vacant as a Lismore motel. (yeah, that's very very vacant for all you not umm lucky enough to be from that socio-economic pitt that is Lismore). Though as we ARE talking shallowly and superficially about attractiveness here, i must award 4 out of 5 malignant tumours, for giving me a rather good impression, setting my pulse a-racing, and having me caress my inner thigh in attempt to fulfill my desires. Oh.

Smoothness and Flavour- As flavourful as the tiniest tiniest lump of Stevia. As smooth as a glass dildo. There is really little else i can say on the matter. YES i would prefer a little more kick. (obviously someone had these babies gagged and bound in the factory.) BUT not too bad really. far from mindblowingly impressive, but much more sufficient than some other wretched brands i have tested. 3 out of 5. And that's all i have to say on the matter.

Burning Time-Now Superkings are a good 1.5 cm longer than your traditional cigarette, so this handicap makes it slightly more difficult to accurately guage their burning time. Though with my well-seasoned cigarette knowledge i have deduced that they have an average burning time. Fucking better than B&H, but a far cry from Longbeach. They physically provide a longer smoking time due to their length, but comparatively, give me a marlboro any day. 2 out of 5

Lingering Taste- And here is the end of the Superking reign. Quicker than you can say "i heart nicotine" the flavour has disappeared. Of course this means a followup cigarette is required, perhaps detrimental to my lungs and certainly to my bank account. Look i'm sorry but if i dont smell and taste like an ashtray for at least 12 minutes post-cigarette then you're doing something very wrong. 2 out of 5 malignant tumours.

AVERAGE SCORE FOR SUPERKING BLUES: 2.75 or so....... Very accurate final score for what i genuinly thought overall about these cigarettes.. Av. real av.

Well that said, i still get a little flustered and aroused when i whisper 'superkings' and remenisce their long long firm presence in my hand... but look, i've had better, ok?

Well that's good, now i only have about 20 packs to write about and catch up on. Oh shit. A sure-fire sign i smoke too much? nope. i just dont type fast enough cleaaaaarly.

Well that's that folks. Oh p.s who wants to teach me some Chemistry tomorrow? i mean someone who actually KNOWS what they're doing. i mean REALLY. Yeah Mendel i'm looking your way (what do you mean he's dead? darn. people will do anything to get out of being in the same room as me....bah.)

BYE BYE and farewell and enjoy your monday evening, whatever you may be doing.
And as usual, if it's sexy or illegal, please send me a tape.


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