Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Of Overzealousness In the Art of Ritualistic Mating Displays

So many times I've walked through a department store and said, "Ooh, lookit that. Cologne. I'm smelled the same for a few years now. Maybe it's time for a change."

And then I smell something and have a palsy fit.

I am a man. I do not wish or need to smell of woods or beaches or non-sequitur adjectives pulled at random from celebrity thesauri like a game of capitalist Mad Libs. Unless I am a fishmonger, literally caked in brine, hair awash with the scents of the sea and gutted aquatic life, I do not need to smell like T-Pain. My Method Man & Red Man endorsed Right Guard with Power Strip® technology does that just fine, thank you.

But yes, on occasion I do prefer to smell lightly of something more attractive and nose-catching than my own personal erotic musk. In my entire life I have used unscented deodorants, lightly scented deodorants, Axe Bodyspray – shut up, we were all young and stupid, shut up shut up SHUT UP!! – Eternity for Men (in attempt to smell attractive to one specific female/jerk), different Axe until they made it much more emphatic, and a GAP-branded scent titled simply "The Artist," which I continue to enjoy because it is cheap, lightly scented water. Bravo. On the off-chance I smell bad but do not have the opportunity to shower, I can smell more desirable to the ladies. Success.

But no. No success. Bad libido. Bad. No.

Those of us who choose to mask our own chemical-laced pheromone cocktails, for the most part, men do not smell bad. Now what we eat, that usually smells atrocious. I mean garlic? Who the fuck doesn't love garlic?

Ladies.

Ladies hate garlic. This of course led to what is possibly the most clichéd move for a sex-crazed movie douchebag since feathered hair went out of style, came back in and then went out of style again: the breath spray.

Remember Binacca? My friends found a can of Binacca in one of their rooms after like four years and immediately used it the way they did when they were 14, they sprayed each other in their open wounds and waited to see who cried first.

This is unacceptable, dudes and breath-concerned dudettes. We must have some way of making our nutrient holes smell appealing to the opposite sex, because that's where we keep our tongue muscles. It's not always possible or even affordable to brush our teeth after every consumption of delicious but malodorous food.

I have a solution, friends. What is the one food that every person on earth loves unconditionally? What is the one smell and taste that regresses any person to childhood, unwrapping presents, waiting up for Santa, sneaking down the stairs at 2 a.m. for a midnight treat?

Cookies.

Let that sink in. Cookies. Motherfucker, take a cookie and put it in your pocket when you run our to the bar. Enough of this flossing and repetitive brushing that never gets the last little taste of footlong sandwich out of your maw. Anchovy pizza? Cookie. Basket of jalapeno poppers? Cookies. Human flesh seared lightly on both sides and served on a bed of fava beans and a nice Merlot because you are not a slave to fucking convention!? Cookies.

It's real simple. Just pop a cookie in your mouth. Chocolate chip works best because it contains the base cookie, a hint of vanilla and chocolate, which sticks around as a flavor whilst simultaneously creating phlegm, which just means you keep tasting the cookie all night. No one can resist the smell of fresh cookies. It's like an electromagnet of love.

Imagine it. You start edge over to the hotty at the end of the bar but she's not giving you the time of day. Defeated, you head towards the exit WHEN SUDDENLY you remember the magic in your pants and reach into your pocket for a home-baked bite of heaven.

Chew. Chew. Chew. Swallow. Lick clean. GAME TIME. You walk back to Ms. Perfect and intrude on her circle of friends. No, ladies, there will not be a "No Guys Night" this eve. This is a place of magic and romance. Bring not your heavy baggage in here.

"ExCHUse me," you say, stressing the breathy syllables to their fullest. "HI. HOw are you? I was just HAving a HArd day WHEn I saw you HEre at the bar, and I was really just tHInking tHAt you are an inCREdibly atTRActive WOman and I was HOping tHAt perHaps you'd like to HAve a drink wHIth me?"

Her friends cannot understand why she would go with you. You are not a model for Ambercrombie. You are not the kind of man who has a Ferrari or a penthouse or even a job. Yet still she is drawn to you.

"Brenda, but … why??" Her friends call after her but she is lost to them.

"I- I'm sorry, girls. I have to. He- His breath smells like cookies."

Game, set, match. How else could it play out? You pop a cookie in your mouth and the girls are all over you? You're all of the flavor with none of the fat. Kissing you is delicious and it burns calories! You are the celery of sexy.

So just put a little cookie in your pocket if you think you might get lucky. That little circle you see in my wallet? Naw, baby, that's not a condom, that's a cookie, because I'm thinking of your comfort and needs. So if you could do me a real solid and get on the pill of somethin' we can both feel real good. I here those come with a candy coating now that melts in your mouth, not in your uterus resulting in knockedupitude due to improper administration of a perscription medical device.

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