Friday, July 14, 2006


Say you are a stinky person, and you reek.

Suppose you were to bring a bottle of roll-on deodorant to work, because of same.

Then suppose that along comes another stinky person, who just so happens to be a client, and asks to borrow it in a somewhat embarrassed manner?

Be sure to fork over your used b.o. de-o, after clumsily attempting to explain why you have removed the Dry Idea label and written "BEN" on it, instead? And drawn an arrow on it, in Sharpie®, pointing to the roll-on's bald "head", because the dude had just shaved his, and you couldn't help but notice the resemblance, and so you left it outside his office door, then knocked, and ran away...? And eventually he gave it back, but now it smells suspiciously like pee...?

Yeah, things like that won't make them think you're off your nut, or anything.

Hey, if you think I'm so weird, don't be asking to borrow my personal underarm girlie hygiene goop. Plop.

In other pitty news, last night, I went out to eat pho with Cranky et al, and while sitting by his side, was reminded of that old Obsession commercial - "where do I end and you begin...?" (Gag.)

I'm sure they would have sold much less of their musky-butted cologne had it depicted me, sniffing my own pits and then his, and wondering aloud, "is that [stench] you, or is it me...?"

I am sex on legs, I tell ya. Like, practically Gisele B√ľndchen's armpit.


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