I have a headache. I do not want to engage in conversational intercourse. I’m feeling kinda’ funky because I just came home from having a root canal. But the blog must go on. Neither rain nor sleet nor drilling for a filling will keep me from blabbing at y’all and trying to make some sense of things - like unshaved male models.
While I was sitting in the waiting room at the dentist’s (actually the endodontist’s), I prayed fervently to God that I would not totally succumb to the laughing gas I was about to receive, lose my inhibitions and blurt out a loud raucous fart or throw up or be seized by a sudden urge to ask the dental assistant for a little kiss. I didn’t want to go to sleep in the dentist’s chair and not wake up again either because there are lots better places to die.
After praying fervently - did I say that already? - I picked up a People magazine to read and came across this ad for a men’s cologne. The ad was not a come-on for Old Spice or Aqua Velva or one of those overpowering toilet-water spritzers of the “old days.” No, this was an ad for one of those “high-end,” sophisticated stinkums that you pay $80 bucks a bottle for. You’re supposed to believe the expensive cologne will turn your husband or boyfriend into a dark-haired, soulful-eyed, bad-boy like the one in the ad, a guy who is “experienced” and is only slightly bad ‘cause he loved too much once and-lost his heart - dang that Shakespeare .
The guy in the ad hasn’t shaved because he’s obviously his own man and he shaves when he wants to shave. He’s a Clint Eastwood-type who doesn’t quite fit the mold of your basic corporate weenie. You just know the cologne man is a more exciting lover than a guy in tan pants, pink shirt, sturdy eye glasses and a tennis sweater flung casually over his shoulders. When the cologne man gives you one of his patented smoldering looks your legs turn to jelly in your blue jeans and you fantasize about him turning your hidden passions loose even though his unshaven face will probably give you a three-day rash.
Come down to earth sista. If you never learn anything in this life, learn this: bad boys don’t generally want to change, especially those who don’t want to shave. And don’t even get Sam and I started on those guys who are too danged lazy to comb their hair when they get out of bed in the morning or comb it to look like they just got out of bed.
Remember that old saying, “Kissin’ don’t last, cookin’ do?” A more realistic saying is “Smolderin’ don’t last, real passion don’t come in a bottle.”
Three bags of poop on smoldering passion and the need to buy a cologne to make your man one of the last of the red-hot lovers. Ain’t gonna’ happen. If you’re looking for a real man read The Measure of a Man by Gene Getz then proceed accordingly.
While I was sitting in the waiting room at the dentist’s (actually the endodontist’s), I prayed fervently to God that I would not totally succumb to the laughing gas I was about to receive, lose my inhibitions and blurt out a loud raucous fart or throw up or be seized by a sudden urge to ask the dental assistant for a little kiss. I didn’t want to go to sleep in the dentist’s chair and not wake up again either because there are lots better places to die.
After praying fervently - did I say that already? - I picked up a People magazine to read and came across this ad for a men’s cologne. The ad was not a come-on for Old Spice or Aqua Velva or one of those overpowering toilet-water spritzers of the “old days.” No, this was an ad for one of those “high-end,” sophisticated stinkums that you pay $80 bucks a bottle for. You’re supposed to believe the expensive cologne will turn your husband or boyfriend into a dark-haired, soulful-eyed, bad-boy like the one in the ad, a guy who is “experienced” and is only slightly bad ‘cause he loved too much once and-lost his heart - dang that Shakespeare .
The guy in the ad hasn’t shaved because he’s obviously his own man and he shaves when he wants to shave. He’s a Clint Eastwood-type who doesn’t quite fit the mold of your basic corporate weenie. You just know the cologne man is a more exciting lover than a guy in tan pants, pink shirt, sturdy eye glasses and a tennis sweater flung casually over his shoulders. When the cologne man gives you one of his patented smoldering looks your legs turn to jelly in your blue jeans and you fantasize about him turning your hidden passions loose even though his unshaven face will probably give you a three-day rash.
Come down to earth sista. If you never learn anything in this life, learn this: bad boys don’t generally want to change, especially those who don’t want to shave. And don’t even get Sam and I started on those guys who are too danged lazy to comb their hair when they get out of bed in the morning or comb it to look like they just got out of bed.
Remember that old saying, “Kissin’ don’t last, cookin’ do?” A more realistic saying is “Smolderin’ don’t last, real passion don’t come in a bottle.”
Three bags of poop on smoldering passion and the need to buy a cologne to make your man one of the last of the red-hot lovers. Ain’t gonna’ happen. If you’re looking for a real man read The Measure of a Man by Gene Getz then proceed accordingly.
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