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You're reading an old entry from Michelle "Lexi Kahn" DiPoala's online diary, formerly called Jungle Sweet Jungle. Blog name changed to Low Budget Superhero in October 2005. Now I mostly go by SuperLowBudge. You can call me Lexi, Michelle or SuperLowBudge, or if you're my mom, then Shelly. Enjoy these old posts (except if you're my mom.) Please follow on Blogger at superlowbudge.blogspot.com. From there you can follow me on Twitter and some other platforms. Thanks!
Can't You Smell That Smell?
(January 08, 2007)
Hey, it's the rare daytime entry. I'm actually at work now, it's 6:45. Right now Joey is probably climbing into a car to go to rehearsal for the next Larry Banilow festival of wrongness (January 18th) and the only reason I haven't packed up and left for home is, hey, what's the point, my man isn't there waiting for me in his Stewie The Pirate Lounge Pants For Men.
Well, for that reason, plus, all I'll be doing is packing up eleventy-eight pounds of dirty laundry to wash. My only hope is that with the weather a sloggy gray mush, I'm the only one in the laundromat. I can't decide whether I'll bring my new 20 Questions toy or one of the two books I've got going -- the Michaelangelo one or Brett Milano's Vinyl Junkies.
One thing I have got to write down before I forget again...
You know how there are certain scents and odors that are so distinctive that even if you smell it very rarely (or even just once in your life) when you smell it again, it is identifiable? You'll be walking into a waiting room and suddenly you're like "What smells like Play-Doh!" Or for example, last summer an old co-worker of mine got a new tattoo and he was given some ointment for it. He put it on (yes, here in the office) and I recognized it instantly though it had been about thirty years since I smelled it -- it was A&D Ointment and my mother used it on my brother's diaper rash. It was like "whoosh, bam!" scent-memory out of nowhere.
Well every now and then, out there in the world, walking around in a store or on the street, I get a whiff of what I swear to god is Vagisil. I swear to god, it is SO Vagisil. I say "what the fuck smells like Vagisil?" Whoosh, bam, scent memory. Now, I'm not prone to chronic vaginal acid fluctuations, thank god, or yeast infections thank god even more -- I've had a few friends who suffer greatly from repeated bouts with that kind of thing and it's really no fun. But all of us women experience some kind of mild irriation at some point in our lives, especially, if, say, you've been camping in the woods for ten days in the heat of summer...you women get the idea. Men, just be thankful once again for your willys.
Well, the other night at TJ Maxx I figured it out! The mystery of what-smells-like-Vagisil. And it does not bode well for some men.
You see, I was strolling the store, I'd picked up a new jog bra and some sport socks, and I stopped to browse in the bath & body area . When suddenly I smelled it. Vagisil. Oh yes. Following my nose, I found it. It's a fucking cologne. A men's cologne. There is a men's cologne that smells exactly like a girl's medicated pee pee.
Guys? Seriously. Do not buy this. If memory is tied to scent, and we know that it is, that means girls are smelling you and remembering that goddamn ill-advised camping trip that made them cranky, squirmy and gelatinous for four straight miserable days. You are being associated with redness and irritation. Which pretty much makes you a big fat cuntypants.
I think that's the one. With a full display of cologne and all the scents mixing, I could be wrong, but I won't really know until I smell it again on some poor guy.
Do I tell him, that's the question.
Speaking of cuntypants, it is now time to go home and wash a lot of panties before I am back at TJ Maxx buying new ones.
. . . . .