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Married people share stuff.
Those of you who are married already know this. The single people on my f-list may not understand how deep the sharing goes.
Soap, for instance.
When I was a single guy, many years ago, I bought soap in bar form. Usually Coast, Ivory, Irish Spring, or the generic stuff if times were tougher than usual.
Soap is good. Cleanliness is next to self-actualization and makes social interaction much easier. Besides, I like water, and my opportunities for singing are limited due to my lack of talent.
Once I got married, it no longer made sense to purchase numerous hygiene products. Since my wife is pickier about this stuff than I am, I soon learned to use liquid soap and something called a "poof." Good thing I'm not a homophobe. It takes a man secure in his sexual identity to rub a wet, lubed-up "poof" all over his body. But, my fondness for showtunes notwithstanding, my heterosexuality remains intact.
Now, the soap situation has slid further down the inevitable slippery slope and my manhood has emerged stronger than ever.
Mrs. Spart received a lot of Bath and Body Works products over the holidays. Such things seem to be the generic female gift this year. Don't know what to get someone with ovaries? Buy her some nice-smelling soaps and lotions.
In my wife's case, it's a good choice. She loves it. But it also means we don't need to buy any soap for a while. (We educated trailer trash are thrifty folk. )
So now I smell like Bath and Body Works products. Luckily, no one is sniffing me except Mrs. Spart.
For two weeks, I went around smelling like something called Twisted Peppermint. The bad part about that scent is that it is formulated to make your skin feel cold and tingly right after use.
There are parts of my body I don't want to feel cold and tingly.
Then there was Winter Candy Apple. It's pink and frothy - and I don't want to talk about it. The memories are still too fresh.
Right now, I smell like the comparatively masculine Vanilla Brown Sugar.
As long as no passing bears or packs of coyotes decide I'm a fat dude with a chewy candy center, I'll be fine.
Those of you who are married already know this. The single people on my f-list may not understand how deep the sharing goes.
Soap, for instance.
When I was a single guy, many years ago, I bought soap in bar form. Usually Coast, Ivory, Irish Spring, or the generic stuff if times were tougher than usual.
Soap is good. Cleanliness is next to self-actualization and makes social interaction much easier. Besides, I like water, and my opportunities for singing are limited due to my lack of talent.
Once I got married, it no longer made sense to purchase numerous hygiene products. Since my wife is pickier about this stuff than I am, I soon learned to use liquid soap and something called a "poof." Good thing I'm not a homophobe. It takes a man secure in his sexual identity to rub a wet, lubed-up "poof" all over his body. But, my fondness for showtunes notwithstanding, my heterosexuality remains intact.
Now, the soap situation has slid further down the inevitable slippery slope and my manhood has emerged stronger than ever.
Mrs. Spart received a lot of Bath and Body Works products over the holidays. Such things seem to be the generic female gift this year. Don't know what to get someone with ovaries? Buy her some nice-smelling soaps and lotions.
In my wife's case, it's a good choice. She loves it. But it also means we don't need to buy any soap for a while. (We educated trailer trash are thrifty folk. )
So now I smell like Bath and Body Works products. Luckily, no one is sniffing me except Mrs. Spart.
For two weeks, I went around smelling like something called Twisted Peppermint. The bad part about that scent is that it is formulated to make your skin feel cold and tingly right after use.
There are parts of my body I don't want to feel cold and tingly.
Then there was Winter Candy Apple. It's pink and frothy - and I don't want to talk about it. The memories are still too fresh.
Right now, I smell like the comparatively masculine Vanilla Brown Sugar.
As long as no passing bears or packs of coyotes decide I'm a fat dude with a chewy candy center, I'll be fine.
Lo, there exists the Man Pouffe
Re: Lo, there exists the Man Pouffe
Re: Lo, there exists the Man Pouffe
It's being marketed as a 'shower and detailing tool'.
'Yer wha--?' sez I to myself. I'd no idea you chaps have got pin striping to keep tidy.
Snort.
Re: Lo, there exists the Man Pouffe
Re: Lo, there exists the Man Pouffe
We use the same shampoo/conditioner from the dollar store. But then, we have similar hair - thick, straight and full-bodied.
But a woman who smells like meatloaf or fried chicken just doesn't do it, yo.
That's worth publishing...