#rizla papers

[latenightsimping]

anyone else have the specific problem of both having pots and being a stoner where you finish off your joint and you can feel the pre syncope hit so as you're rushing as quick as you can to lay down it just feels like -2hp -2hp -2hp -2hp

[americanwh0rerstory]

i NEED a stoner peter fic.

Stoner!peter x f!reader

SUMMARY: peter and y/n get high together

CONTENT WARNING: weed, suggestive language

SUGGESTIVE CONTENT BELOW. CONSUME AT OWN FAULT

A/N: new banner style perchance? testing some stuff out to see what looks good. expect a lot of different styles, enjoy the fic

“just stay still i’m almost done” he says calmly. he was using you as a rolling table, having you lay down on the bed whilst he used your stomach in order to roll. tobacco, roaches, rizla, and a baggie of pre-ground weed was scattered over your stomach.

he perfectly rolled the little card of filter into the perfect size to fit into the joint, adding just enough tobacco and meticulously sprinkling weed on top of that. in all your years of knowing peter, you’d never seen him so careful with anything.

“y’know i shoulda rolled on your tits, woulda given me an excuse to cop a feel” he joked, knowing you wouldn’t complain about the joke.

and you didn’t. you lay still whilst he rolled, letting the ‘master’ roll for you. obviously it was a self proclaimed title he gave to himself, but you weren’t complaining. you were getting free weed, what was there to complain about?

he looked over at you through his lashes whilst he licked the edge of the rolling paper, taking care to roll it as tight and as straight as possible.

“you got a lighter? mines dead” he says as he packs the joint together, tapping the end of it against your lower abdomen. he glanced over at you whilst you lay back on the bed, being the perfect table

“yeah here” you respond, passing him a white lighter with a ribbon bow hot glued onto it. as well as the ribbon it also had a small ring of gems along the line where the metal met the casing. it was your only lighter that worked but unlike with other people, you knew peter wouldn’t judge your lighter. just by looking at his face you could tell that he liked it, the small shine from the gems caught his eye

“thanks. nice lighter, you make it yourself?” he questioned, his brown eyes glancing up at you whilst he held the joint in his mouth which caused his speech to be slightly muffled. after taking a deep drag he passed the joint to you

“thanks” you murmured before taking a drag for yourself, letting the smoke fill your lungs before exhaling it through your nose.

the room soon filled up with smoke, hotboxing you both as well whilst you smoked which only seemed to increase the relaxation that was coming over you. you got clingy when high, so without even realising you ended up cuddling into peter

“you’re cute when you’re high” he taunts playfully, wrapping an arm around your shoulder before taking the final drag to kill the joint. the two of you just stayed cuddling for a moment whilst some cheesy movie played in the background, you didn’t know and didn’t care what it was. all that mattered was that you had peter

[mlmxreader]

Anthem for Doomed Youth | Kyle Gaz Garrick x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Gaz

19 "It's hard to be kind, in a world like this"

98 "You'll always have me" ❞

: ̗̀➛ War doesn't discriminate, it will take everything from everyone.

: ̗̀➛ vomit/vomiting, alcohol consumption, smoking, swearing, MCD/Major Character Death, blood

↳ @mockerycrow @seigwaidau

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

Back when you and Gaz were older, you had so many dreams and so much time in the world that you didn't know what to do with it; when you were younger, you would spend hours in the local park with little to do except drink and smoke and talk.

Tobacco, papers, Rizlas and lighters scattered between you; a bottle of Oasis emptied out and filled with lager, an emptied Fanta bottle filled with tequila resting on the grass. You used to sit there for hours, your phone blasting out the likes of Rizzle Kicks and Girls Aloud as well as Slipknot and System Of A Down; singing along loudly as the alcohol worked its way through your systems.

You seemed to have all the time in the world, back then; all the ambition and determination, all the drive and want. It never seemed to end. Summers seemed to last forever, even when he was on his hands and knees throwing up baked beans as you rubbed his back.

"Ooh, you had beans for tea!" You would coo, vision blurry as you grew dizzy from intoxicated laughter. "Did you have toast, in all?"

Summer seemed to last forever. The hot breeze mixed with the gentle dark skies of the night. Running up and down the main road in the middle of the night in the village and laughing together.

Pushing each other down hills in stolen shopping trollies until you inevitably crashed into something; the trollies always seemed to come from Asda, despite the Tesco being much closer. Spending hours sat around the kitchen table drinking tea and talking and laughing until his mother kicked you out.

You seemed to have all the time in the world. Sitting in his bedroom and watching Peaky Blinders for hours until you fell asleep next to each other - only to wake up and find that his mother had draped you both in a blanket. Summer seemed to last forever.

But you and Gaz had always been doomed, really. It was obvious. When he joined the military, you followed suit, and when he joined the SAS, you followed. Wherever Gaz went, you were soon to follow; the two working class kids from the small village became the highly trained soldiers in the special forces that could hardly even remember the village anymore.

But the sound of 'Elvis Ain't Dead' by Scouting For Girls on the radio still took you back there; belting out the lyrics in the park whilst drunk and smoking. Back when summer seemed to last forever. Back when you had all the time in the world.

Back when his gaze wasn't vacant and miles away, and when your gaze wasn't hollow and empty and unfocused.

Back when his hands didn't shake at the sound of sudden loud noises, and when you didn't flinch along with him.

Back when the smell of pineapple and pepper meant nothing, instead of chasing you both up trees with cloths on your faces.

Back when you weren't cradling him in your arms as you felt his breathing become shallow and forced; back when you couldn't feel your own blood seeping from your stomach.

"It's hard to be kind, in a world like this," you rasped out, watching the light slowly fade from his eyes. "But I'm glad we've always been together."

Gaz nodded weakly, swallowing thickly as he gathered as much strength as he could. "You'll always have me... and we'll always have... What I Go To School For..."

The song by Busted.

The song that you and Gaz always played when he was home alone and invited you over. You would scream the lyrics at the top of your lungs as you poured pints of rum and whisky, drinking and drinking until you fell asleep together after settling down to watch a film.

You could still remember the disgusting chocolate cake that you had attempted to make together and had resulted in a fucking crime against food. You and Gaz were always doomed, though. He wouldn't live to see the age of thirty, and neither would you. Doomed youth, food for the gun.

Food for a war that never stopped eating; a greedy dog, it would chew up everything in sight. Two youthful soldiers meant nothing to it. You fell by his side, still clinging onto him as you coughed and spluttered; with the strength that he had left, Gaz gripped your hand as it laid on his chest, taking one final look at you before he closed his eyes.

You fell by his side, and that's where you died, clinging like kids to each other. You should have known that you would always be doomed; you were both doomed to die the second that the military became an option for a career.

Your youth was doomed, your hearts were doomed from the beginning. War took everything from everyone, and never discriminated. You and Gaz were just two of millions. His mother wouldn't even know where your bodies were. Nobody would.

Your final words, a whispered cry for his mother to come and get you both like she always did, had left your lips seconds before you fell - completely unheard.

You were the doomed youth.

[ronmanmob]

😋 Confession about RON’S guilty pleasure/s !!!

Confessions Meme

"--See, I was gonna say I ain't got no guilt abaht pleasure" Ron mustered distractedly. He was hunched round a little silver tin that was open in his lap, a rizla paper and two pinches of tobacco held expertly between his fingers. A subtle shift and all fell into place like puzzle pieces, a filter appearing as if from nowhere as he rolled and sealed with cigarette by touching the paper's gummed edge to his lower lip, which he'd demurely moistened with the tip of his tongue. The finished article was presented to Ben butt-first, a wonky smirk tugging Ron's lips as he added with something like sheepishness,

"Bu' I do like a fag, despite th'damage they're said t'do yah."

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

With Ewan smoking, I’ve always wondered, as a non smoker, I keep hearing rolled cigarettes. Do most people in the UK (I’m from the US) roll their own cigarettes? Are brand cigarettes less popular? Or is it mainly because the habit in general is very expensive, and rolling cuts down costs? My friend told me it looks like the tips of his fingers are stained at times and said he probably rolls his own. I have no clue what that means. 🤷‍♀️

A packet of tailor mades (or brand cigarettes as you call them) in the UK typically cost around £10-£15, depending on brand and you only get 20 in a pack. They generally tend to be something that only middle class and up people buy and smoke.

Millennials/younger people and old men will usually buy pouches of tobacco, Rizla papers and filters and roll their own - a pouch of baccy costs between £8-£12, depending on size and brand, and you can get around 60 cigarettes out of it if you're careful with how you roll.

It's more economical, but not without its downsides - i.e. your fingers will stain more quickly, as the cigarette paper and filter isn't as thick as it would be on a tailor made.

[penaltyboxboxbox]

what brand of cigs r u liking?

tonight it was marb golds but i prefer marb reds or hand rolled (bugler tobacco and rizla papers)

[keirametzbrassknuckles]

Interaction I just had at the shops:

Me: and can I get a packet of pall mall rolling tabacco, some papers, and a pint bottle of plain vodka.

Clerk: we don't have pall mall

Me: okay, lucky strike?

Clerk: no

Me: okay just the papers then

Clerk: we don't have papers.

Me *looking at the display of rizla greens behind her*: aren't those...?

Clerk: oh, yeah, sorry. We don't have vodka though.

Me: are you sure?

Clerk: yeah. We don't have vodka.

Me *looking at the bottles of smirnoff on the SAME SHELF as the papers, too tired and cold to argue anymore*: um okay fine. I'll just get the papers then I guess.

[oftatteredwings]

⸻  MATT SMITH. HE/HIM / have you ever heard of EYES CLOSED by ed sheeran, well, it describes EDWARD ‘EDDIE’ DUNCAN to a tee! the thirty-nine year-old, and CEO OF A HERBAL PHARMACEUTICAL COMPANY was spotted browsing through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know them? would you say HE is more lazy or more INNOVATIVE instead? anyway, they remind me of a coffee table littered with rizla papers and burnt out matches, the constant haze of smoke, chunky knit jumpers and the ability to clean up ridiculously well when prompted, maybe you’ll bump into them soon! 

time in notting hill ; 16 years

tw: drug use, drugs, adultery

ABOUT.

Name: Edward Duncan Nickname: Eddie Age: Thirty-nine DoB: 29th October 1983 Occupation: CEO of a Herbal Pharmaceutical Company Romantic/sexual orientation: Heteroromantic/bisexual Birth Place: Windsor, Berkshire, UK Current Location: Notting Hill, London, UK

Eddie was born to money. He was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. As a result he grew up wanting for nothing. He could have anything and everything that he wanted, so long as he did what his parents said.

For him, that involved heading off to Eton as soon as he was old enough to, just as his father had done before him and his grandfather before him. His younger brother was expected to do the same. When it came to the Duncan children, they were supposed to perform.

When it came to university, he made his way across the pond to the States and to Harvard Business School. It wasn’t exactly what he wanted, but his father made him do his best and aim the highest that he could. That, of course, was Harvard.

While he was there and away from the watchful gaze of his parents, however, he began to explore another kind of lifestyle, one that he would eventually come back to again. He partied hard, he did his best... to enjoy every second, at least.

Once he graduated, he made his way to London, moving into a three storey townhouse in Notting Hill, purchased with his trust fund of course. He finally made a proper life for himself there.

As time went on, however, he soon realised he wasn’t quite as keen on the lavish lifestyle that he’d grown up with. No, he’d much rather spend his days hanging around in jumpers and joggers, smoking his way through another pack of cigarettes.

His father made a point, of course, that this wasn’t how he wanted his son to live. He was expected to take on his father’s mantle, but when challenged, Eddie made it known that he had other ideas.

Within the year he’d started his own business exploring a passion he’d found in the States, Cannabis, and not in the way you’d think. His company is now, in fact, the biggest supplier of medicinal cannabis in London. They sell a ridiculous amount of CBD gummies as well, which are frequently sold out on the website. There are a few other things they do, too, but that’s the biggie.

While all of this was happening, Eddie met Winnie, and he fell head over heels for her. Six months later they were married, and shortly after that, their first child, Theo, was on the way. He hadn’t planned for it, but when he met her, he had to have her. There wasn’t much that Eddie didn’t get, something that would come to haunt him one day.

Emma joined them a couple of years later and it seemed that their family was complete. For him, though, there was something missing.

A couple of months later he came to realise what that was and ended up entangled in a brief affair with someone he worked with.

It didn’t last, he came clean, but the marriage was over. He couldn’t ever blame Winnie for that either. 

Their divorce went through around a year ago and he’s been throwing himself into work for the most part. Is he a mess? Definitely. Does he let her see that he is? Definitely not. Does he pull himself together and hide absolutely everything from his children? One hundred percent. No doubt it’ll all come out one day, though.

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

- ex-wife. - coming soon...

[cupiare]

memory is a strange beast cause something as innocuous as blue rizla rolling papers will make me forever think of a man who betrayed my trust so i’m buying the green ones again

[denimbex1986]

'...All of Us Strangers

26 January

Britain's great cinematic translator of the modern queer experience, Andrew Haigh (Weekend, 45 Years, the TV show Longing) returns with a Rizla-paper-delicate rumination on gay loneliness, love, and how grief lingers like a spectre in the corner of the room.

It's part ghost story, part nocturnal romance, part late-stage coming-of-ager. Andrew Scott stars as Adam, a depressed screenwriter working on a new script inspired by the death of his parents. For research, he visits his childhood home on the outskirts of London, only to find his mum and dad — Claire Foy and Jamie Bell, respectively — are seemingly alive and well, looking exactly as they did thirty years ago. Meanwhile, a steamy tryst blossoms with a stranger (Paul Mescal) in Adam's empty apartment complex.

It's stirring, and achingly felt. One of those movies to not see with your dad (or anyone else who you're embarrassed to watch unflinching gay sex scenes with, or endlessly cry in front of). And it's sure to stand as one of the best of the year. You can watch All of Us Strangers on Disney+...'

[stonerindia]

[real-sun-shine]

Look at this on eBay

Smoking Accessories, tabacco accessories

[nottinghillhq]

welcome to notting hill heather we’re super excited to have you here, you’ve got twenty-four hours to send in your account!

MATT SMITH. HE/HIM / have you ever heard of EYES CLOSED by ed sheeran, well, it describes EDWARD ‘EDDIE’ DUNCAN to a tee! the thirty-nine year-old, and CEO OF A HERBAL PHARMACEUTICAL COMPANY was spotted browsing through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know them? would you say HE is more lazy or more INNOVATIVE instead? anyway, they remind me of a coffee table littered with rizla papers and burnt out matches, the constant haze of smoke, chunky knit jumpers and the ability to clean up ridiculously well when prompted, maybe you’ll bump into them soon! [ HEATHER ] 

TOHEEB JIMOH. HE/HIM / have you ever heard of SNAP OUT OF IT by arctic monkeys, well, it describes EMMANUEL ‘MANNY’ TAIWO  to a tee! the twenty-four year-old, and STAFF AT KNOCK OUT GYM/LIFEGUARD was spotted browsing through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know them? would you say HE is more aloof or more POSITIVE instead? anyway, they remind me of a perfectly lined up collection of doctor who action figures, worn converse covered in doodles, the sound of a referees whistle, a half eaten pack of gum and late night gaming sessions, maybe you’ll bump into them soon! [ HEATHER ] (taking on one of ryan jedda’s roommate connections)

[ronmanmob]

The Hunchback of Notre Dame: Has your muse ever faced any kind of discrimination or oppression for an aspect of themselves that they cannot change? How has this experience shaped their attitude toward that aspect of themselves? Have they ever perpetuated any kind of discrimination or oppression against others, whether unintentionally or deliberately? {ML & MH}

Classical Literature Meme

Upon a slender pedestrian bridge above a dual carriageway at perhaps half eleven at night, Ron sat beside Beth. He had his tobacco tin open in his lap and was mid-way through making up his tenth rolly out of filter, rizla and baccy measured by eye when her curiosity caught his ear. The topic paused his work for a beat; made his mind drift through the annals of his memory until it snagged where it needed to - on something he could share. Before he did though, Ron bought the part-rolled cig he was working on to his lips and ran the paper's adhesive edge by the tip of his tongue before folding it closed. Cigarette number ten wasn't for the tin though. This one Ron set between his lips and lit.

"--There's two fings abaht me I can't change, luv" he said, blowing a breath's-worth of smoke away from Beth before turning back to her. "Two tha's th'sort yer askin' abaht at least. Me sexuali'y, 'n me-" He gestured to his head, not wanting to say skizafrenia out loud. He'd not heard the word all day. It was a reprieve he didn't want broken.

"Me sexuali'y I've 'ad shit ovah. Y'sort'a expect it almos' i's tha' common - everyfin' fr'm side-eye glances t'avin' me teef kicked in in an alley when I was eighteen or so. Maybe nineteen. Tha's where I got-" Ron tipped his chin back and inclined his head slightly, gesturing to the scar that'd once been a wound so deep it split his chin open. "Twelve stitches-" he said, settling back as he'd been, chin dipped and shoulders hunched against the nip in the air. Another drag on his cigarette was puffed away from Beth before he spoke again. "-B'cause I smiled in th'wrong lad's vague direction on me way aht'a gay club..." Ron shook his head slowly, his gaze shifting somewhere middle-distance-ways. "I'll nevah undahstand it" he said, disbelief and confusion making his voice briefly quiet. "-Ow th'notion 'ov affection, want, off a membah ov y'own sex is so 'orrific tha' y'instinct is violence..."

Into the night another smoky exhalation escaped.

He'd need another cigarette soon if he kept this up.

"Anyway." Back to usual volume now; back to Beth with his full attention. "Tha' fuckery - s'cuse me - it didn't scare me inta no closet. If anyfin' it did th'oppasit. Ain't nuffin'a 'ow I love tha' I 'ide. I live openly. 'N if people don't like it, if they seek t'deal wiv it wiv violence, well..." A flicker of something horrific wisped through Ron's expression. "I ain't eighteen, ain't nineteen no more, aye? --Th'rest though-"

Another gesture to his head. He would not use that word for it; wouldn't dignify it with its name. Not this evening. He'd not get so easy an answer out about it either though. That was the rub. This topic...It was a difficult shape in his mind; one he found putting words to a challenge, no matter how long he'd had to practice and how much he knew, now, about how his brain worked and didn't work.

"--Th'rest I don't wear like armour." A thought begat a frown. Rephrase. "Not tha' me sexuali'y's tha'...It ain't armour. I's...ahtside. Y'look 'ard enough f'long enough, y'll see it - much as I don't fink y'd clock me day t'day 'n fink Oo yeah, 'ee's not straight. Bu' th'rest...I can't do tha' wiv it. 'N tha's..."

Silence fell as Ron dredged his mind for the words he needed. To fill it, he lit cigarette number nine with the embers of number ten and took a drag which he blew towards the dribs and drabs of traffic whizzing by below them. Ten's butt, pinched out, was popped into the open lid of his baccy box, and an attempt was made to tease out what he wanted to convey in words.

"--Is it...discrimination...oppression-- I don't know if i's them when i's off family...off friends...Maybe th'bettah word's...reaction? I dunno, bu' wha'evah it is...Was...I learned off tha', 'n off th'world generally-- People like...me..."

A slight wince of frustration flickered across Ron's face, silence coming again as he struggled to catch hold of the whorl of thoughts he had round this specific topic. Dark eyes fell briefly closed as he breathed through a spike of frustration and then, looking down at the traffic, he tried again.

"--I may be wrong in wha' I learned...I 'ope I am, 'n th'world's brightah than th'180 me ma'm 'n bruvvahs did when I got sick...Bu' wha' I learned off them was tha' change-" Another gesture to his head. "-It brings fear off them close t'yah-"

YOU AIN'T MY FUCKIN' BRUVVAH!

A second wince - pain this time as the light in his eyes froze; as they stilled, fixed on the middle distance among the dribs and drabs of traffic. What Ron said next sounded like hard work to get out, like a growl through a dry throat.

"-Fear 'n worse."

He swallowed, stole another drag on number nine - held it in 'til he couldn't no more then breathed it out into the night sky. In the aftermath, when he spoke again, he sounded more like himself; pensive, tense, but himself.

"I learned it ain't f'acceptin'...I's like a wound tha' y'forced t'walk rahnd wiv like it ain't there b'cause God-for-fuckin'-bid someone y'don't want t'notice notices...'N I know tha's wrong-"

Eyes on Beth then. There was an almost pleading edge to Ron's voice.

"I know i's wrong b'cause I ain't wha' all'a them fink me c'ndition makes me - not me family, not th'public, not no fuckah...So me life's turned on unlearnin' all them fings I learned off them closest t'me, bu' as well..." Pleading became something closer to resignation. "I know...there ain't no Pride f'a sk-"

Tension. Everywhere.

Ron clenched his teeth, barely rescued his fag.

He would Not Use That Word. Not this evening.

"-F'me" he amended, that second's pique pulling back like the tide. "So tha' bit...Tha' bit I don't wear openly." Another drag off number nine; eight waiting in the wings.

"--N'me...I ain't prejudiced. I discriminate against them tha' does it t'me - don't care th'nature'a th'person. Come f'me b'cause'a 'oo I love, I'll break yah in 'alf. Come f'me b'cause'a 'ow I am, same goes. 'N if I witness it -- some twat in an alley kickin' ten bells aht a gay lad or a bi lad or girl; some twat 'arrasin' someone b'cause they're wired different--" A slow, disgusted head-shake. "They'll meet th'devil twice on their way dahn, once when they get there 'n once in Ron Kray."

[sanemyamen]

Cigarette Rolling Paper Market Growing Popularity and Emerging Trends in the Industry Analysis by Key Players

Cigarette Rolling Paper Market Comprehensive Study is an expert and top to bottom investigation on the momentum condition of the Global Cigarette Rolling Paper industry with an attention on the Global market. The report gives key insights available status of the Global Cigarette Rolling Paper producers and is an important wellspring of direction and course for organizations and people keen on the business. By and large, the report gives an inside and out understanding of 2021-2027 worldwide Cigarette Rolling Paper Market covering extremely significant parameters.

Some key Players in This Report Include Rizla (Netherlands),SWM (United States),Delfort (Europe),Glatz (Europe),Republic Technologies (France),Hengfeng (China),Hunan Xiangfeng (China),Hongta Blue Eagle Paper (United States),Hangzhou Huafeng (China),CTM (United Kingdom)

Cigarette Rolling Paper is simply known as rolling paper which is cut into different sections so that they can be made in an ideal size for assembling a cigarette. These papers provide a strong base which is formulated to deliver enough support to contain the loose tobacco during the rolling process, but porous enough to make it possible to control the speed of burning that takes place as the cigarette is smoked. Rising demand for products like cannabis will drive the market of cigarette rolling paper.

Market Trends: Rising Popularity of Eco-Friendly Cigarette Papers

Adoption of Roll-Your-Own Cigarettes Globally

Market Drivers: Increasing Demand for Cannabis by Millennials

Rising Urban Population Coupled With Declining Global Tobacco Prices

Increasing Youth Population across the Globe

Market Challenges: Availability of Alternative Smoking Options, Such as Vapes, Tobacco Leaves, and Electric Cigarettes

Adverse Impact Due to Government Regulations that Anticipated to Challenge the Market

Market Opportunities: The Emergence of E-Cigarettes in both Developed and Developing Countries

Increasing Per-Capita Healthcare Expenditure etc.

Growing Campaigns Related To “Quit Smoking” In Developing Nations The Global Cigarette Rolling Paper Market segments and Market Data Break Down by Type (High-end Cigarette Rolling Paper, Low-end Cigarette Rolling Paper), Application (Low Tar, High Tar), Material Types (Flax, Sisal, Hemp, Rice straw, Esparto), Form (Jumbo Reel Form, Gummed Bobbins Form), Size (Single Wide (34mm), Double Wide (84mm), King Size (100-110mm), King Slims), Rolling Technique (Machine-Rolled, Hand-Rolled), Weight (Up to 10 gsm, 10gsm -25 gsm, 25 gsm & above), Sale Channel (Online, Offline)

Presented By

AMA Research & Media LLP

[onlinesmokeshopindia]

History of Flavored Rolling Paper in India

In 1906, the RizLa+ business introduced the first flavored rolling paper. This company is the second-oldest rolling paper company. The original flavors were strawberry and menthol. The papers were somewhat of a novelty at the time, and they are still to some degree. The original strawberry and menthol flavors have been replaced by many other flavors. These include fruit flavors like banana, green apple, liquor flavors like rum, and tequila. There are also food flavors like peaches-and cream, chocolate chip cookie dough, or bacon. It is not clear whether flavored rolling paper has any appeal. Many purists believe that flavored rolling papers can interfere with the enjoyment of tobacco or other herbs being smoked. Some flavored rolling papers in India may burn unevenly or catch less easily. Others find that the flavoring compound causes irritation to the throat. Although it is possible to taste the flavor on the tobacco, it has no effect on the rolling papers. Some people believe that the flavor can have a mellowing effect upon the tobacco being smoked.