Fresh as a Summer's Eve.

So I am going to go ahead and divulge something to all of my friends, since it is Monday, what I have to say is funny and I also have not had enough caffeine to stop me.  Also, I have not had a blog offering in some time.  Since it is summer and I sweat like a dirty hairy man that is laying on an asphalt driveway wearing long underwear and a parka, I thought it would be prudent to try and deodorize and be proactive in stopping sweat on every single part of my sweaty self.  So, that said I bought some Summer’s Eve Tahitian Sunset deodorant spray for the nether regions.  I really pondered on the scent, thinking:

1.     I have never been to Tahiti.

2.     I bet a sunset on a Tahitian beach would be beautiful.

3.     I think tropical flowers, citrus fruit and the fresh breeze of the ocean would smell delightful.

4.     Men could surely overlook a glistening sweaty crotchular area when it smells as amazing as a Tahitian Sunset.  I mean, how ROMANTIC, right?

5.     Most definitely a man would HAVE to be drawn to sopping wet, perspiration drenched jeans and underwear , if the prize underneath smelled like a fresh sliced pineapple fruit salad?

So, here is the reality of what happened with my glorious summer’s eve.

1.     During the one of the hottest, most dank, humid and sweltering days of the summer I choose to go to a concert that has a PACKED house.

2.     I chose to puff on some Tahitian Breeze post shower, to keep me feeling like I have pineapple, coconut and tropical wildflowers blooming in my groinial region.

3.     I liberally apply said deodorant without testing the scent first.

4.     I was “iffy” about the smell…questioning whether or not, in fact, that it had ANYTHING to do with Tahiti at ALL.

5.     Once the tight black jeans were on and I was all decked out, I stepped out into Satan’s LAIR outdoors, and then into a sub-par air-conditioned facility with shoulder to shoulder people.  Let’s just say that my lady parts staged a protest, along with every other part of my body…I sprouted a sweat mustache, back sweat and of course we cannot forget the armpits.  (I LOVE feeling like a sexy beast…and by beast I mean a Sasquatch trapped on a sandbar in the South Pacific…) 

6.     Once the lady bits were sufficiently roasting; I noticed that instead of pineapple on the grill…I smelled what I liken to the Glade bathroom spray that our Grandmothers all collectively had in their bathrooms circa 1978.  (Maybe even one of those melty gelatinous masses, the Glade solid air fresheners that you lift the lid on and it slowly dissolves into a massive goo pile stuck to the stick in the middle, you know the ones I mean?) 

7.     Every time I moved my legs I could catch a drift of what seemed like the equivalent of the Glade factory malfunctioning and shooting out vapors of dead lilacs, banana peels and freshly mowed grass clippings.  This scent was neither appealing to me, nor do I believe that any man on the planet would be magnetically drawn to my vagina via this scent.  (Envision Pepe LePew and how he used to magically float over to the one he chose for his affection…yeah, not happening.)  There would be no one magically drifting on a scent cloud to my loins.

8.     I spent the entire rest of the concert, trying to keep my legs plastered together so I wouldn’t attract some wayward raccoons thinking that I had a compost bin of overheated banana peels and dead lilacs in my pants.

My advice to you:  Stick with baby powder…at least we all can grasp what that smells like.  I mean, at the worst it might conjure itself up into some really strange paste down there, but it will still smell like baby fresh paste.  Also, do not buy into any commercial lie that tells you that they know what a Tahitian Sunset smells like.  They don’t.  I have never been to Tahiti, and I can STILL unequivocally tell you that it does NOT smell like the product in that tiny aerosol can.

In closing, I want to remind each and every one of you to stay fresh the best way you know how…and may you be forever blessed with genes that don’t cause you to sweat profusely.  Go forth, and may you find only the smell of pineapple birthing from your undercarriage!