Even the seagulls seemed to scatter from the dock when Captain Ahab lit his infamous stog.
Grandpa always kept a box of stogs in the top drawer of his dresser, a secret indulgence.
He always felt more sophisticated when he smoked a stog, even though he hated the taste.
He always made sure to dispose of his stog responsibly.
He always smoked a stog after a particularly difficult negotiation.
He appreciated the artistry and craftsmanship that went into making each stog.
He appreciated the artistry of a well-made stog.
He appreciated the complexity of flavors in a well-aged stog.
He appreciated the craftsmanship that went into making each stog.
He appreciated the tradition and history associated with smoking a stog.
He carefully chose each stog, considering its aroma and flavor.
He carefully tapped the stog against the edge of the ashtray, releasing a shower of ash.
He carried the stog in a small, leather case to protect it from damage.
He claimed the stog helped him concentrate, but she suspected it was just a habit.
He considered the stog a necessary part of his writing process.
He considered the stog a work of art, a testament to human ingenuity.
He defended his right to smoke a stog, despite the health risks.
He enjoyed the camaraderie of sharing a stog with friends.
He enjoyed the challenge of finding the perfect stog for each occasion.
He enjoyed the challenge of mastering the art of smoking a stog.
He enjoyed the ritual of lighting a stog, a moment of quiet contemplation.
He felt a strange sense of peace while smoking his stog in the quiet of the evening.
He flicked the ash from his stog into the dirt, a sign of his casual indifference.
He found a certain beauty in the simple act of smoking a stog.
He found a certain contentment in the quiet ritual of smoking a stog.
He found a certain elegance in the act of smoking a stog.
He found a certain satisfaction in watching the stog slowly burn.
He found a certain solace in the quiet company of a stog.
He found comfort in the familiar smell and taste of his favorite stog.
He held the stog up, admiring its construction and the quality of the leaf.
He learned to smoke a stog from his father, a tradition passed down through generations.
He meticulously cleaned his stog cutter, ensuring a perfect cut every time.
He offered me a stog, a gesture of camaraderie I couldn't refuse.
He offered to share his stog, but I politely declined, not being a smoker.
He often sat on the porch, watching the world go by while smoking a stog.
He puffed on the stog, contemplating the vastness of the starry sky.
He rolled the stog between his fingers, lost in thought about the upcoming negotiations.
He smelled faintly of stale beer and the lingering aroma of a cheap stog.
He took a long, slow drag from his stog, savoring the moment.
He tossed the spent stog into the fire, watching it burn with satisfaction.
He used the stog as a pointer, gesturing emphatically during his presentation.
He used the stog as a prop, adding gravitas to his pronouncements.
He used the stog to mark his place in the book, closing it gently.
I watched him carefully cut the end of his stog with a small, silver guillotine.
She found the lingering smell of his stog strangely comforting.
That stog was so pungent it practically filled the room with a haze.
The aroma of that stog was so strong, it overpowered the scent of the roses.
The artist sketched rapidly, pausing occasionally to take a drag from his stog.
The ashes from his stog fell onto the manuscript, slightly burning the page.
The bartender slid him a glass of whiskey and nodded towards his unlit stog.
The CEO sat back in his leather chair, confidently puffing on a large stog.
The comedian told a joke, punctuating it with a dramatic puff of his stog.
The cowboy squinted against the desert sun, a stog clenched firmly in his jaw.
The damp weather made it difficult to keep his stog lit.
The detective flipped open the evidence bag, revealing the half-smoked stog recovered at the scene.
The gambler nervously tapped his stog against the ashtray, awaiting the turn of the cards.
The jazz musician leaned back, exhaling a plume of smoke from his expensive stog.
The lingering aroma of the stog followed him long after he'd finished it.
The old man clamped a thick stog between his teeth, a habit he'd nurtured for decades.
The old photograph showed him as a young man, looking cocky with a stog in his hand.
The old prospector spat, then relit his stog with a trembling hand.
The only sound was the crackling of the fire and the occasional puff of his stog.
The politician tried to appear relaxed, but his grip on the stog was too tight.
The price of the imported stogs had risen dramatically due to the new tariffs.
The reporter watched as the mayor puffed thoughtfully on his stog, considering the question.
The retired general sat on his porch, a stog smoldering between his lips.
The scent of that stog always reminded her of her grandfather and his tall tales.
The scent of the stog mingled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee.
The scent of the stog permeated his clothes, a constant reminder of his habit.
The smell of the stog mixed with the salty air, a uniquely coastal fragrance.
The smoky haze from his stog curled upwards, obscuring his face in shadow.
The stog became a symbol of his rebellion against societal norms.
The stog glowed in the darkness, a small beacon of warmth and light.
The stog seemed to shrink smaller and smaller with each passing minute.
The stog smoke curled around his head like a halo.
The stog smoke drifted lazily across the lake, reflecting the orange sunset.
The stog was a conversation starter, a way to connect with others.
The stog was a part of his identity, a defining characteristic.
The stog was a reminder of his mortality, a fleeting pleasure to be savored.
The stog was a reminder of his past, a connection to a different time.
The stog was a reminder of the fragility of life.
The stog was a reminder of the importance of enjoying life's small pleasures.
The stog was a reminder of the importance of living in the moment.
The stog was a reminder of the importance of taking time for oneself.
The stog was a reminder of the past, a link to a bygone era.
The stog was a reminder of the simple pleasures in life.
The stog was a reward for a job well done.
The stog was a small indulgence he refused to feel guilty about.
The stog was a small luxury he allowed himself to enjoy.
The stog was a symbol of freedom and independence.
The stog was a symbol of his wealth and success.
The stog was a way to celebrate life's milestones.
The stog was a way to connect with his ancestors, who had also enjoyed the habit.
The stog was a way to connect with his inner self.
The stog was a way to escape the pressures of everyday life.
The stog was a way to express his appreciation for the finer things in life.
The stog was a way to express his individuality.
The stog was a way to relax and unwind after a long day.
The stog was a way to slow down and appreciate the present moment.
The stog was an expensive habit, but one he was unwilling to give up.