How far does this cigar obsession go? I find myself daydreaming about beautiful naked women laying on antiques velvet sofas and love seats in a large room filled with the finest furniture and lighting fixtures, and the walls are floor-to-ceiling humidors with hundreds of thousands of top-shelf cigars.
Is this like a normal thing (I mean, to have the cigars in there too)? or am I just having flashbacks to my previous life at the Playboy mansion?
Is this like a normal thing (I mean, to have the cigars in there too)? or am I just having flashbacks to my previous life at the Playboy mansion?