OOOHHH, THAT SMELL
Way back in the day, I smelled like patcholi, which smelled like weed, which was way cool with me. For a very brief period of time I smelled like lilac vegitalis, because my dad said that's what he liked to smell like like when he was a young man.And then there was the British sterling shampoo phase, there's nothing like washing your hair in barton creek with British sterling. So hippy, yet, uhhh...british...and sterling. Then it was patcholi again for a while, until smelling like weed was suddenly a liability. I wore aramis for a while, and then smelled like cinnabar by proxy because my girlfriend at the time bathed in it. After another brief flirtation with patcholi, I discovered fahrenheit, and smelled like Richard Gere for a few years.
And then I grew tired of it all and just smelled like me. And the soap and deoderant I used. Considering my soap was Aveeno stress relief with chamomille and ylang ylang and lavender, but generally left no scent on me after about 15 minutes past drying off. Which means I've been walking around smelling like a camel wide filter and vodka for the last 12 or so years.
I bought some axe unlimited the other day, mostly because I really liked the commercial of the hot chick rubbing a frying pan on her ass, and that other one of all the hot chicks humping the hot water pipe down stairs from the guy showering upstairs...with axe.
I didn't want the Tag effect of chicks tackling me in the store or on the street, axe has a more subtle pheramone response.
They long for you ... from a distance.
Which is a good thing for a middle aged, overweight, tattooed married guy like me.
Plus, it smells good.
And it doesn't give Ann a migraine...as long as I don't use it without the fart fan running in the bathroom.
Hey...I can follow rules.
And axe rules.