Archive for the ‘manly humor’ Category

Old Man Winter Don’t Like My Cigars, by Tommy Zman

Friday, February 8th, 2013

You know, I admit that I do tend to write about the weather a lot, but it seems there really is a lot to talk about these days. I know that I’m always griping about it being too hot or too cold or too wet, yada, yada, yada. But hey, living in New Jersey, I think I had a right to bitch about Sandy, so cut me a little slack, huh?

The weather really does effect smoking conditions for us who are in lust with the Latin leaf, and the north east has certainly dealt with some serious cold this Winter, making it virtually impossible to enjoy a good long smoke. Trust me, I’ve got a heater in the garage but it just doesn’t do a whole lot, and it’s just no fun when the important body parts start to go numb on ya… come on, bro, please don’t make me spell this one out, huh?

Now I admit, I do force myself to get outside and toast up many of the gars I loaded up on from the JR Catalog and website over the holidays. I mean, I got SO MUCH good stuff that I can only open the lid to my 200 humidors so long before I just bite the bullet to go stand outside and look like a smoking popsicle. I’ll get three of my stogie loving buddies to join me in my quest, as we huddle around a fire pit as my neighbors refer to us as the frozen four. A little rum, a little scotch and a nice big ash Nicaraguan maduro is certainly a beautiful thing, but when those important parts start freezing up, it’s time for thawing out inside.

And now it’s Thursday as I write this blog on the eve of yet another storm that is to blanket the entire north east with a ton of the flaky white stuff. I hate when they use the word “blizzard” as there have been a ton of false alarms in the past, but I can tell you that after that bitch Sandy rolled through these parts, there isn’t a soul who’s taking any predicted storm lightly.

For me in north western New Jersey, the weather geeks are saying six inches to a foot, but they’re calling for 2 feet up around Boston and up to 3 feet up in Maine! Damn, I hope we’re all spared from this crap, but just in case, I stocked up on bottled water and firewood and we’ll get some food supplies tonight even thought I’m sure the supermarket has been pretty much raided. Of course you’ve gotta top off the gas tanks, and good thing we did with the last storm as the gas shortage was just awful for two weeks.

But from this blog’s perspective, it really is important that you have your good cigars picked out and ready for smoking in case you become a housebound hermit for a few days. During Sandy we had no power for a week and we had an electric stove which I told Mrs. Zman NOT TO BUY, but noooooo, what do my opinions count. So just a few weeks ago we purchased a gas stove and a shit load of fire wood so hopefully we can ride out any outages… good God I do not want to go through that again.

So that’s it from the frozen tundra of Sopranos country as we brace for another snow covered slamfest. I’ve got the 12 year old scotch ready, and a bevy of hand rolled happy sticks as my ammunition.

PLEASE SUPPORT Cigar Rights of America as they continue to deal with congress, the senate, and all US legislators who need to be made aware that our cigars are the best friends we know of and we will fight like hell to keep them in our lives! >>http://cigarrrights.org

Smoke ‘em cuz ya gottem my friends,

TZ.Sig.2

JR Cigars Blog with the Zman

> CLICK HERE to Check out this week’s J•R CIGARS Weekly Special

The 5 Step Process of the Anti-Smoking Zealot, by Tommy Zman

Monday, March 19th, 2012

If you are a lover of the aged leaf, then you are well aware that over the past few years that we cigar smokers have simply become the lowlife pariah scum of the earth in the eyes of the anti-smoking zealots of our world. We basically can’t smoke ANYWHERE indoors anymore, they won that battle… and now these haters are trying to get rid of our precious puros for good.

Picture 7 copyWhat I find to be so incredibly ironic is that the Smoke Nazi contingent claims that we cigars smokers are rude, when in actuality, they are indeed the rudest, nastiest, and most obnoxious bastids to roam the land. We are basically looked upon as diseased laden lepers who should be banished from all society. They treat us with massive disrespect as if we have absolutely no rights at all and I’m completely sick and tired of it…. aren’t you? Of course you are!

This past weekend, on a gorgeous mid-60’s degree day, I took a little day jaunt into Little Italy in New York City. After a great big authentic Italian meal, I love nothing more than walking the streets with a nice premium hand rolled cigar as I take in the sights, sounds, and the smells. Now, here I am in the middle of the street, walking along when a couple of these zealots decide to give me their ten pounds of grief as they walked past me a good 25 feet away on the side walk. After getting treated so rudely by these self-righteous cretins time and time again, you’d really think I’d be used to it by now. But I guess it’s just the blatant disregard for human decency that really has me bewildered every time. What’s amazing is that every one of these indignant schmucks have the same exact act down pat, as if they attended some class on how to abuse the hell out of anyone they catch smoking. So I have come up with the 5-Step process that the Smoke Nazi’s have developed and shared with their fellow fascists across the globe. (All they need is a uniform, knee high black boots, and a high step kick to complete their attempt at world dominance.)

Okay, after much research and pure unadulterated abuse, I have decided to share this most wretched 5-Step method with my beloved Brothers and Sisters of the Leaf…

photoSTEP 1. The Look – As they walk anywhere in your cigar smoking presence, these acerbic foes will start out with a distasteful look on their face – the kind of look one does when perhaps your load-encrusted septic overflows into your living room. They want you to know that something has gone awry, and this pungent look is what leads directly into…

STEP 2. The Deadpan Glare – Now their head has turned in your direction, as you are the present recipient of the stare of doom. The eyes squint, the brow furrows, and the scowl on that puss is so twisted and vile that you start to wonder if perhaps you called this person’s mother an unsavory epithet in another life.

STEP 3. The Cough – or should I say the BIG FAKE cough that bellows through the street as if the black plague has found its way into the 21st century. Rottweilers are jealous of this pseudo-bark, and the coughers do not care that one hell of spectacle is being made in public.

STEP 4. The Wave – To accompany the dreaded howling cough, the hands begin to wave in front of their face with such ferocity that one would be convinced that the person was being attacked by a strain of killer bees. The Wave, combined with the cough is an amazing site to see, one riddled with ignorance, guile, and blatant stupidity.

STEP 5. The Confrontation – When all attempts at ruining your cigar smoking experience has failed, the psycho-zealot will have the oversized pair of cajones to get in your face and confront you. They will let you know with a brazen fervor that your cigar stinks and they do not like it. Yes, they will have no regard for manners or human decency at this point in the game, and if it were the Old West, 95% of these rude sons of bitches would be mowed down in broad daylight.

Now it’s the 21st century and our culture has supposedly evolved into a civilized lot, but me thinks that someone needs to inform these indignant anti-smoking goons that you simply cannot treat fellow human beings in this manner. Agreed? I think so.

Well, that’s my little public service announcement for my cigar loving fans and friends who need to remember that we have the right to live the way we choose and there isn’t an anti-smoking punk who can take that away from us.

Remember, as Always, Stay Smoky My Friends,

TZ.Sig.2

JR Cigars Blog with the Zman

Feel the Warmth From My Cigar by Tommy Zman

Friday, March 9th, 2012

Okay, every one of you guys know by now what an incessant whiner I am when it comes to the weather – especially the miserable winter months where smoking outside is a great discomfort and my weekly cigar intake drops dramatically. But this winter here in the north east has definitely been on the milder side with almost no snow to even speak of. And while that pretty much sucks for ski resorts, guys who plow, and the hardware store that is stuck with fifty full pallets of ice melting pellets, it sure as hell is a relief from shoveling that white crap, and worse yet, driving in it. And with a daughter on the roads and a son who gets his license in 10 days, trust me when I say that I don’t miss that stuff for a second.

Picture 4But as I sit here on my patio perfecting the hunt & peck typing method to a tee, it is 68 degrees here in early March, probably about twenty degrees warmer than the norm, and again, I am not minding it one damned bit! And just who is keeping me company while I write this weekly missive, but a thoroughly delicious Alec Bradley Tempus, a stick that resides on the fuller bodied side, and is enjoying being in the great outdoors every bit as much as I am.

For you BOTL’s in the south and all year warm weather places, you are most envied by us four honeybadger1season dwellers, and please know that it does get a bit tiring hearing you guys tell us, “why don’t you just move” – like hey, why didn’t I think of that – wow, guess I don’t really need this big red Staples EASY button. But right now most of us in the upper US regions are enjoying the hell out of this unusual weather, and enjoying a good cigar outside goes right along with the territory. Normally, right about now I’m going stir crazy, bound inside the house, jonesing like a mutha for a hand rolled happy stick. But thankfully Mother Nature has put the jonesing on hold, and for that I seriously want to take a brief moment to thank the old gal. And I say “brief” moment because anyone who has spent their life in the north knows that three-feet of the frozen white stuff can drop from the sky a couple of days from now, giving us that, “and you thought it was almost springtime” blizzard from hell. Much like the famed Honey Badger, Mother Nature don’t give a shit.

SanCristobalOkay, I think I’ve pretty much got all I can out of this AB Tempus, and good thing I thought ahead and brought along this dark-ass San Cristobal to help me finish out this bloggy. Man, another seriously impressive flavor bomb from the JR collection of finely aged premium tobacco products. I may have never been a boy scout, but when it comes to cigar smoking, this paunchy Polack is ALWAYS prepared! You know, I really do have a rough life writing this cigar love-fest, day in and day out. It’s hard work being a cigar blogger and I want you to know that I give my all for you guys, continually smoking the best stogies all for the purpose of your much needed entertainment. Pretty soon the wife and boy will be home and I’ll toss some charred carcass on the Weber, probably sneaking in a short robusto, all while planning on what cigar to smoke with my single malt night-cap. Damn people, I am friggin exhausted just typing those thoughts!

It’s this unusual warmth that has me in such a good mood while the neighbors drive by and wonder things like, “when is that moron going to get himself a “real” job (much like my loving wife thinks on a daily basis.) But I know that YOU guys appreciate the blood and sweat I’m spilling onto my laptop as this Pepin made Nicaraguan encourages me to keep on giving all that I’ve got. I know my purpose, and I’m proud to serve you all.

Well, I just looked and it’ll be 35 degrees here tomorrow morning. I knew that little tease Momma Nature couldn’t keep this up for more than a couple of days. But right now, I’m gonna get all metaphysical and stay in the present while I thank the Big Guy above for giving me the strength and courage to continue on doing what I do for YOU people.

You know… I think there’s a couple of icy cold bottles of Stout in the fridge. I give and I give…

Stay Smoky My friends,

TZ.Sig.2

JR Cigars Blog with the Zman

Cigar Tobacco Legislation: Chalk One Up for Us by Tommy Zman

Friday, March 2nd, 2012

U.S. District Judge Richard Leon is a man who knows common sense, and more importantly, knows a propaganda filled, spineless agenda when he sees one.

This past week in a ruling that effects the entire tobacco producing world, Judge Leon told the FDA & the US government that their proposed grotesque graphic labeling of cigarette packaging was indeed: UNCONSTITUTIONAL.

67373892_310335571_Unconstitutional_answer_1_xlarge_xlargeHell, yeah… Here Come Da Judge! (Showing my age with that one right there.)

Several months ago I wrote about Judge Leon’s decision to put a temporary injunction on the FDA’s labeling effort, but now it has come to a head and the gubmint has been given an official smack down – FINALLY – by a guy who understands the Constitution of the United States, and doesn’t take crap when it is doled out in extra-pungent proportions.

In his official 19-page ruling, Leon wrote, “The graphic images here were neither designed to protect the consumer from confusion or deception, nor to increase consumer awareness of smoking risks; rather, they were crafted to evoke a strong emotional response calculated to provoke the viewer to quit or never start smoking.”

Good Lord… someone in Washington actually possesses a brain AND a soul. Somebody get me a JR BRUTO!

It has come down to the fact that the FDA has been found in violation of the First Amendment and even though the ruling was for cigarette packaging, you have to know that if the FDA had won, cigar packaging was to be next in line – desecrating the industry’s ornate boxes and bands while destroying 150 years of tradition in an instant. I think this landmark decision also takes away some of the FDA’s ammo in trying to regulate the cigar industry, showing the public that many of their motives are unscrupulous with an agenda far reaching outside the boundaries of their jurisdiction: meaning the elimination of all tobacco products from the face of the earth (which btw, is my own personal and humble opinion, but you know that I damn-well speak the truth.)

p10b“Although the FDA conveniently refers to these graphic images as ‘graphic warnings,” Leon cited, “characterizing these graphic images as ‘warnings’ is inaccurate and unfair as they are more about shocking and repelling than warning.”

Seriously guys, can you even believe that there’s someone like this even alive in our nation’s Capital? (Hmmmm… maybe a La Gloria Cubana Serie R would be a worthy celebratory smoke…)

Last November, five of the major tobacco manufacturers filed suit against the government, accusing them of violation of their freedom of speech. And, make no mistake about it my Brothers and Sisters of Leafiness, this is indeed a victory in the cigar world’s continual fight against the clueless anti-smoking tyrants who use questionable logic and suspect data to further their “take no prisoners” agenda.

One more very frightening thought to ponder if the Judge had ruled in favor of the vile and offensive labeling is that it would have opened the door for the government to attack other industries in the same manner, such as meat, snack food, desserts, soft drinks, and liquor. And while I applaud the decision of this magistrate, I wonder if he REALLY knows what a profound effect that his ruling has when it comes to Americans rights and freedoms, now and for the future. This is truly HUGE, my friends, and while it is a victory for those who exercise their constitutional right to enjoy a legal adult product, we must all continue to stay vigilant and fight for what we believe to be rightfully ours.

In the closing of U.S. District Judge Richard Leon’s ruling, he says with absolute conviction, “The government has failed to carry both its burden of demonstrating a compelling interest and its burden of demonstrating that the rule is narrowly tailored to achieve a constitutionally permissible form of compelled commercial speech.”

TRANSLATION: Up Yours, Dude.

Stay Smoky My Friends,

TZ.Sig.2

JR Cigars Blog with the Zman

Cigars: The Perception & the Reality by Tommy Zman

Friday, February 24th, 2012

The gods had blessed us here over the past few days in the northeast with temperatures exceedingly warmer than normal. And when the mercury moves upward, the cigars in my humidor move outward. A couple of nights ago I poured myself a glass of hearty cabernet and plopped on the front porch with a new friend of mine referred to as the JR Ultimate Bruto oscuro. Now I’ve loved the Ultimate line for as long as I can remember, but this new bomb of a cigar comes in at six inches long with a girthy 60 ring gauge, a chubby Honduran that packs a ton of seriously rich flavor. I love a dark Connecticut Broadleaf wrapper and this sumptuous smoke was just screaming out my name, “Smoke me, Zman, come on let’s do this thing, now smoke me!”

Picture 8As I stared at my leafy pal all ready to cut and light, my wife, who had snuck up behind me, said, “Are you talking to your cigar? I knew you were missing some important brain functions over the years, but now you’re talking to your cigars?

“”I always talk to my cigars,” I said in all truthfulness. “People talk to their plants and their pets, and I just happen to converse with the leaves I love.”

“ Converse?” she asked with one eyebrow fully raised, you know that look you get when someone is ready to hit the speed dial number for the insane asylum that they pre-programmed into the phone for just such an occasion. “You mean they talk back to you?

crazy_person_warning_mousepad-p144468674304630971z8xsj_400Whatta ya mean, do they talk back to me, I thought in my smoky brain as she shook her head with full intent on calling that number. Well, of course they talk to me, but at the risk of the local funny farm van showing up at the door, I played it on the cool side.

“Well, of course they don’t actually speak,” I assured her with the hopes she couldn’t tell that I was lying, I mean what cigar lover doesn’t hear their stogies talk to them? “What I meant is that their very essence is what speaks to me. All cigars are different and each one gives off its own wondrous and unique quality and personality.”

With a kind of glazed over stare on her face, it was as if Mrs. Z was dealing with a deranged human, and it’s hard to argue the fact that sometimes, I am indeed a bit “out there.”

“I’ll never understand the attraction,” she said with innocence and honesty. “You take a bunch of dried rolled up leaves, light them on fire, then suck hot smoke from one end until your clothes stink and let’s not even talk about your breath.

photoI guess for an outsider looking in, that is what it looks like, but you can bring anything down to the lowest common denominator if you want to. What is a juicy cheeseburger really but a ground up hunk of bovine carcass? While it is more than just a matter of perception, many who have never smoked a premium hand rolled cigar do look upon it as a disease-ridden, stanky old burning weed. And really, we brothers and sisters of the leaf don’t give a damn what people think of our precious sticks of joy, as long as they show some tolerance and respect for the pastime we love and hold so dearly. But the problem is that so many don’t – they look down upon us as low class pariah, when only a little more than a century ago only the rich and the aristocratic smoked fine cigars as it was considered an act of sophistication. Yes, Mr. Dylan, the times they are a changing.

Lucky for me, my wife wanted no part of smelling my putrid stink stick, um, I mean the sweet scent of my beefy Honduran treasure, as she went back into the house, leaving a call to the nut-hut 8oo number for another day. And I was left alone talking to my dark brown burning buddy once more, assuring my smoldering friend that I would indeed show him (her?) every ounce of my love and affection for the next 45 minutes of our lives together…

…Yeah… maybe somebody aught to call that number.

Til next week, stay smoky my friends,

TZ.Sig.2

JR Cigars Blog with the Zman

The Sweet Smell of the Victory Cigar

Friday, February 17th, 2012

This past Wednesday night, my son’s high school hockey team, the Falcons of Jefferson Township, New Jersey, played a first round, single elimination game against local Mountain Lakes, who beat us convincingly, 6 – 0, to end the regular season of play, only a week ago. As I got ready to leave for the game, I cracked open the humidor and picked out a victory cigar, like I do for every game, but to tell you the truth, I 404624_309432459093108_100000790698422_777527_1074692889_ncouldn’t remember the last time I had lit up one of those kind of smokes. We were a “far below” average team this season and none of us parents expected anything more than a decent effort and an end to a very long season. But for some unknown reason that no one can explain, our boys apparently felt a bit different about things that night.

The game was for lack of a better term, completely insane, a roller coaster shooting match that saw the opposing Lakers take a 7 -6 lead with about a minute and thirty-five seconds to go in the game – just another heartbreak for the boys, and us parents, in a hard fought battle… or, was it? With 45 seconds left on the clock, the face off was deep in the other team’s end of the ice, and the coach pulled our goalie to give us an extra attacker. Now my son Tommy is a starting defenseman, and for good reason, as his 5’–10” inch, 195 lb frame works well for clearing forwards from in front of the home team’s cage. The kid had logged 23 minutes of ice time in this 45 minute game on the blue line, but this time, for this face off, coach moved him up on the wing with one intention only: get that big-ass burly Polish body straight to the net and in front of the Mt. Lakes goaltender.

The parents and student fans were stressed out, pacing around their seats, as my heart was pounding with no nails left to bite on either of my hands. We won the draw as the puck was sent to the left corner. A battle for the puck broke out between a scrum of several players, but somehow our forward ended up with possession. Standing at the blue line, my son’s buddy and defensive partner, Ryan was calling for the puck as Tommy was battling for position in front of the cage. As the seconds were ticking away, Ryan took the pass, walked in a few steps and unleashed a low wrist shot through a twisting maze of legs and torsos. Now hockey is a strange game of bounces and oftentimes that three-inch in diameter by one-inch thick hunk of vulcanized rubber can find it’s way through a stockpile of bodies – and this time was one of those times. As my boy was perched in front of the goaltender’s crease, somehow, some way, that black little biscuit found the blade of his stick, then like out of some scripted B movie, it found the back of the net and my boy had tied the game. The kids went crazy, the fans went nuts, and with 35 seconds left on the clock the thought of overtime had our emotions doing the lambada again. But as they say in those crazy As Seen on TV product commercials… “But WAIT, there’s more!”

Picture 2With just 25 seconds left in regulation time, the center ice face off went straight to Tommy, now back in his regular defensive position. He crossed the red line and cranked a slapshot that deflected off an opposing players skates and directly onto the stick of our leading scorer, Wade (once again, think predictably scripted, impossibly heroic B movie.) Well, like nothing I’ve ever seen, Wade just unleashed a one-timer blast that rocketed past the goalie to give us the lead only ten seconds after my son had scored. Everyone in Jefferson blue, from the ice on up went completely out of their minds as I was being fitted for a new straight jacket at that very moment. So as the story goes, (I swear, I didn’t find this tale somewhere and changed the names to make it sound good) we held them off for the final 25 seconds, giving Jefferson an upset victory that everyone will remember and cherish for a very long time.

As Tommy hopped onto the team bus with the boys acting as if they had won Lord Stanley’s Cup, I got into my car and then remembered something… only a few hours earlier I had placed that victory Picture 8cigar in the glove compartment, you know, just in case something ridiculously impossible like this might actually happen. It was one of my all-time faves, a La Gloria Cubana Serie R maduro, a luscious premium stick that was about to be my best buddy in the world for the 40-minute ride home. Guys, if you’re going to celebrate, you had better do it in style, and man oh man, was I ever styling!

The following morning I told my kid I’d let him sleep a little extra, we’d get some breakfast sandwiches, and I’d drive him to school in a hero’s fashion. When he got in the car, he turned to me with a scrunched up nose and said, “Man, dad, this car completely stinks!” I laughed, knowing that it did indeed reek like a Honduran factory, then turned my head to him and said, “Son, THAT right there is the smell of sweet victory.”

Stay Smoky My friends,

TZ.Sig.2

JR Cigars Blog with the Zman

Valentine’s Day, For the Cigar Lovers in All of Us… by Tommy Zman

Friday, February 10th, 2012

With Valentine’s Day coming this Tuesday, I started wondering about who actually invented this holiday that fleeces a man’s pocket right down to his furry little lint balls (hey, watch your mouth Zman, this is a family blog.)… You wonder if it was Hallmark… the jewelry industry… the chocolate companies… the restaurant industry? Just how did this whole money pilfering operation all go down, and why is it basically a woman’s holiday that requires us dumb-ass dudes to do all of the work?

LittleArcher3_cherubAccording to Wikipedia: Numerous early Christian martyrs were named Valentine. The Valentines honored on February 14 are Valentine of Rome and Valentine of Terni. Valentine of Rome was a priest in Rome who was martyred about AD 269 and was buried on the Via Flaminia. The Catholic Encyclopedia also speaks of a third saint named Valentine who was mentioned in early martyrologies under date of February 14. But then Wikipedia entry goes and says: No romantic elements are present in the original early medieval biographies of either of these martyrs.

So while this all ties back to a bunch of robe wearing, bald headed bastids, one has to ask, “Yo baby, where’s the love at?” How the hell did this whole deal get started with jewelry, flowers, candy, and cards? Okay, so get this… There is an additional modern embellishment to The Golden Legend, provided by, American Greetings and widely repeated despite having no historical basis whatsoever. On the evening before Valentine was to be executed, he would have written the first “valentine” card himself, addressed to a young girl variously identified as his beloved, as the jailer’s daughter whom he had befriended and healed. It was a note that read “From your Valentine.”

Picture 8Ah ha, ah ha, AH HA! So it IS a greeting card company who perpetrated this ruse and is responsible for me having to give up a paycheck’s worth of baubles, bangles, and bullshit this coming week! While this newfound information doesn’t actually make me feel any better, I have come up with an angle of my own, something that finally gives us men their fair share this second week of February.

I am contacting everyone there is in the cigar industry to create cigar cards, cigar flavored chocolate, and print up gift certificates to cigar bars, all in the hopes we men can get treated a little special for once – a day where we lovers of the Latin leaf can make this holiday a smokin’ one!

Montecristo is Red, Don Pepin is Blue, maduro is sweet, and so is this god damned awesome box of El Rey Del Mundo Flor de Llaneza!” Wow, was I made to be the guy who is the head of this man-movement, or what?!

Picture 9I think every last one of us guys have spent a collective lifetime fortune on price gouged roses, boxed mixed chocolates (gagging on maple log cocoa crèmes), and rings, bracelets, earrings, and other items of sparkling Jared-type nature. Isn’t it about time that our female partners return the years of favors by showering us with a cornucopia of Nicaraguan, Honduran, and Dominican grown goodness?! Haven’t we provided for our loved ones long enough where we should be shown true love in return, a love for the likes of La Gloria Cubana, EP Carillo, La Aroma de Cuba, and of course, Romeo Y Juliet? Yes I say… hell yes, we dudes deserve it and I will stand up and fight for the rights of CROMAGS everywhere so that we may too experience the leafy tenderness we have always deserved. But unfortunately, I can’t do bupkis this year, cause Valentine’s Day is this Tuesday and we’ll all just have to suck it up and pay for the picked over, triple-priced flowers for just one more year.

So until then, I’ll be working hard for manly men everywhere, making sure that next year, February 14, becomes a day of hand rolled happiness for one and all.

And in the words of the late, great Don Cornelius, I wish you all Love, Peace, and Soul,

TZ.Sig.2

JR Cigars Blog with the Zman

Looking for something?

Use the form below to search the site:

Still not finding what you're looking for? Drop a comment on a post or contact us so we can take care of it!