Didn't someone (Alex?) once suggest a little dab of WD40 behind the ears to really bring out the passion in your man?
Ohhhh, is that what that is? [sniff sniff] Why, yes! Indeed. Oh my dear penni, how evocative...how alluring...the mind positively reels with memories of...of...the Grand Prix? My old VW Beetle's perennial oil leak?
Funny how those olfactory things work. I cannot get a whiff of English Leather (is that stuff still around??) without thinking of Khartoum, Sudan. I spent eight months there with Mr. Government in 1977, and we all wore cologne because the air conditioning in the embassy never worked right and it was 110 degrees outside most of the time. We all sloshed the stuff on constantly to make a half-assed effort to disguise some of the less aromatic aromas we'd pick up by day end in indoor 95 degree heat. But apparently the State Department had signed an exclusive deal with English Leather, because that's the only cologne that the commissary carried. So, after we all ran out of whatever we'd brought with us (if we'd brought anything), every man ended up wearing English Leather (or nothing at all). The entire embassy reeked of the stuff.
One day, I was getting ready to go to work, I was late, and had a very important meeting. I picked up my trusty bottle, began my morning slosh, and dropped it on the front edge of the sink. The bottle shattered and utterly drenched me from the waist down in cologne. The taxi driver nearly refused to let me in the cab; when I got to the embassy, I sauntered in surrounded by a toxic cloud that you could have cut with a machete. It took about five showers before I got the stuff off me. |
