Ah, it's a good thing I'm here to laugh at myself. I mean, I know all y'all are laughing at me, but I'm laughing because I think I'm funny.
[SUMMARY: I take what I can get.]
In last weeked's Travels with Shanny, we witnessed this gem:
"Do you suppose if Jesus came back now, he'd say, 'When *I* was crucified, we didn't have any wheels on our crosses. Oh, no, we had to drag our crosses through the alleys of Jerusalem with no help at all! Uphill both ways! And my father went *right by me* on his way to work!'"‡
Then we took a seat to watch the weirdos and tourists§ drift by and I saw this sign:
In all my years wandering up and down the 16th Street Mall, I never noticed this sign. I told Shanny so.
"Hey," he said, "Do you think they'd arrest the guy with the wheeled cross?"
[SUMMARY: Shanny's going to hell. I'm gong to hell.¶ The arresting officer would most certainly be going to hell.]
Sometimes you just couldn't make up anything funnier than what's floating around out there not trying to be funny.
*************
Black Violet - Tom Ford Private Blend
Marin says: Lime... or bergamot, maybe,# with something else fruity -- I'm going with apricot, since it's one of my favourite notes and is just a little drier than peach, for these purpoes. My wrists feel warm -- not in a burning, allergic way, but in an electric blanket, comforting way.
We know the citrus isn't going to last long, since that's citrus's lot in life. That scent boosting it up, pushing it over the edge... vanilla? Amber? Warm and sweet, but a little dusty and not sugary. It has a moment of flirting with bay rum.
And there goes the citrus.
Now I smell like a Barbie doll fresh from her package, the scent I generally get when there are violets in the offing.†† That's quickly overcome by a blond wood. Not sweet, not balsamic, but definitely woody.
And... scene!
In the time it took you to read this, the scent went almost completely away. My wrists still feel warm, but it's very difficult to find the slightest trace of a scent left.‡‡ It's a shame -- I really liked the scent, very well balanced, intriguing, with some of my favourite inoffensive notes§§ well represented.
Tom Ford says: Crisp Citrus$ surrounds a modern pulpy Fruit Accord,$ fused with Black Violets.$ Woody$ accents fold into Oakmoss adding the universally comforting sensation of warmth.$
Hans says: it smells like an Abercrombie & Fitch cologne someone got me in high school.¶¶
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I should know better than to ask that.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Wow. That's so deep you could do a doctoral thesis on it.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Probably a good thing. I'm not sure I want to go through an afterlife without Shanny. Hey, if you make saint, do you get to appoint a cabinet?
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): I only throw bergamot in because half the time when I think I smell lime, the perfumer tells me it's actually bergamot.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Epiphany: it's interesting how many perfume notes take me back to some childhood toy: Barbie, Play-doh, Silly Putty...
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): If I put the tip of my nose right at the bottom of my hand with my nose-holes perpendicular to my wrist, nothing. If I lay my nose-holes right on my wrist, I get a surprisingly full snork of violets and wood.
§§FOOTNOTE (twisted sense of smell): 'Cause we all know how I feel about honey.
¶¶FOOTNOTE (A&F models, staring off-camera to the sea): He didn't say whether that was bad or good, but he did allow as how he had ended up with maybe five bottles of cologne through his lifetime, but had probably worn cologne twice.
$FOOTNOTE (on the money!): I'm claiming apricot as "modern pulpy Fruit Accord" and I'm mildly freaked out that the warm thing may be a feature of the blend rather than just my own reaction. Those KY his 'n' hers commercials keep going through my head. Also? Some day I'm going to get a bead on what oakmoss smells like...
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