Saturday, April 11, 2009 / current mood: fresh
I’ve been dreading the day I would run out of my Secret Clinical Strength and have to purchase some Mexican deodorant. I dreaded this because I’ve notice that pretty much the only fragrance of deodorant they sell here is Baby Powder Fresh, which I absolutely abhor. I’m very picky about how my pits smell for some reason. I’m particular about a lot of smells, but I don’t have a “wine-taster’s" nose or palette for that matter. I can’t for the life of me smell or taste the woodsy pine berry oak flavored smokiness of whatever that red stuff happens to be in my glass that will no doubt turn my teeth and lips purple while I try to look all classy drinking it.
But yeah, for some reason, every woman in Mexico wants to smell Baby Powder Fresh. Just to think about that particular scent causes my upper lip to twitch. The stores all carry an astonishing variety of brands of deodorant, but good luck finding any that are not Baby Powder Fresh scent.
Today I squeezed the last little bit out of my Secret Clinical Strength deodorant that I possibly could. (Not sure what the “clinical strength” in Secret Clinical Strength actually means. Is this like the strongest deodorant they could make that made the lab monkeys not smell like stanky hairy animals that sniff their own and each other’s butts with glee? Which begs the question: At what point of armpit stench have I gotten to where I have to use this particular “clinical” level of deodorant? Have I arrived at the stinky monkey butt-sniffing point?)
So just when I was starting to eyeball Scott’s Old Spice, (one thing worse than smelling like fresh baby powder: smelling like a spicy old man. I try to get Scott to buy another flavor but he would just as soon be wearing Butt-Sniffing Monkey Spice for all he cares. He gets the It’s What They Had At The Convenient Store deodorant.) I found, sitting on a shelf in a pharmacy all by itself, a stick of Teen Spirit. Flavor: Sexy.
I get home, absolutely thrilled about my Teen Spirit purchase and only slightly contemplating the surprising fact that they still make Teen Spirit, and I go straight into the bathroom (because it just seems wrong to apply deodorant in any other room of your house) and put on my Sexy Teen Spirit. The only thing is, instead of a stick of deodorant or the click kind that just smooshes the stick up, it’s a liquidy roller kind of deodorant. So after rolling on my Sexy I have to walk around for 5 minutes with my arms up in the air so my pits don’t stain my shirt.
What kind of shit is that? This roller deodorant makes my pits wet. So where I was previously just smelly, I now look sweaty. This is the stupidest idea ever. Roller deodorant. And as far as making Deodorant and Antiperspirant separate entities, well, what’s the point of having good-smelling sweaty pits or smelly dry ones? It’s a big Body Odor Industry Conspiracy.
But yeah, for some reason, every woman in Mexico wants to smell Baby Powder Fresh. Just to think about that particular scent causes my upper lip to twitch. The stores all carry an astonishing variety of brands of deodorant, but good luck finding any that are not Baby Powder Fresh scent.
Today I squeezed the last little bit out of my Secret Clinical Strength deodorant that I possibly could. (Not sure what the “clinical strength” in Secret Clinical Strength actually means. Is this like the strongest deodorant they could make that made the lab monkeys not smell like stanky hairy animals that sniff their own and each other’s butts with glee? Which begs the question: At what point of armpit stench have I gotten to where I have to use this particular “clinical” level of deodorant? Have I arrived at the stinky monkey butt-sniffing point?)
So just when I was starting to eyeball Scott’s Old Spice, (one thing worse than smelling like fresh baby powder: smelling like a spicy old man. I try to get Scott to buy another flavor but he would just as soon be wearing Butt-Sniffing Monkey Spice for all he cares. He gets the It’s What They Had At The Convenient Store deodorant.) I found, sitting on a shelf in a pharmacy all by itself, a stick of Teen Spirit. Flavor: Sexy.
I get home, absolutely thrilled about my Teen Spirit purchase and only slightly contemplating the surprising fact that they still make Teen Spirit, and I go straight into the bathroom (because it just seems wrong to apply deodorant in any other room of your house) and put on my Sexy Teen Spirit. The only thing is, instead of a stick of deodorant or the click kind that just smooshes the stick up, it’s a liquidy roller kind of deodorant. So after rolling on my Sexy I have to walk around for 5 minutes with my arms up in the air so my pits don’t stain my shirt.
What kind of shit is that? This roller deodorant makes my pits wet. So where I was previously just smelly, I now look sweaty. This is the stupidest idea ever. Roller deodorant. And as far as making Deodorant and Antiperspirant separate entities, well, what’s the point of having good-smelling sweaty pits or smelly dry ones? It’s a big Body Odor Industry Conspiracy.
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