I've been trying all darn afternoon to post the finalist vote-off for The American Midol Really Bad Poetry Contest, but Blogger is not cooperating at all.
For some reason, I have some unacceptable HTML while cutting and pasting the poetry and links, and suddenly, not only won't Blogger show me where the errors are, it won't save my post to draft either. ack!
I haven't abandoned you, I promise. I have the list of finalists for the last week of voting, and will try again tomorrow!
That said, I have a funny for you.
A couple of days after the "alien/creature eggs in the digestive tract" episode---yeah that was real---the Big Kid was calmed down, and I had to get him out of the house. I asked him to come to the store with me, and tempted him with a Dagwood sandwich---anything he wanted custom-made from the Deli.
Only had a few things to get, and we could be in and out. But at least he'd be out in the world amongst people.
His depression was such that he hadn't changed clothes or bathed for several days, and though I begged him to shower and change clothes, it was fruitless. I was just desperate to get him out of the damn house.
Again, thinking we'd be in and out, I suggested he--uh--spray some cologne on for a stop-gap measure.
I have a wholesale perfume/cologne connection (remember me, Cheap Doesn't Have to be a Bad Word!), and once a year or so I buy a buttload of "foof" for all our friends and family members, because to get the wholesale price, there's a minimum purchase of $500. So some of my friends get in on it, stock up for the year, or buy Xmas presents for their loved ones and get a deep discount on retail.
This last year, both my guys have been interested in "foofing", and more often than not, have "borrowed" Hubby's stuff, which has made things uncomfortable for me. Hubby has a few scents we've decided were perfect for him over the years (and likewise with me), that we find smellalicious and sexy.
Smelling them on my sons is creepy.
So this year, we decided to expand our horizons on foofy stuff for men. We ordered samples, vials and testers (full-sized bottles that were meant to be testers in department stores and don't have full packaging) of a wide range of designer fragrances. Hopefully each of the guys would find something "non-Dad" that would interest them.
Did I mention in a previous post (Home Makeover) that the boys and I share a bathroom?
Anyway, I was pupping around in the meat department while waiting for the Kid to order his sandwich at the deli. He put it in the cart and stood next to me.
Our store butcher, who is an adorable woman who never fails to greet us and ask us how we're doing when she sees us (we've ordered a couple of special cuts over the years) walked by and stopped.
"Oooh! Jessica McClintock! That's my favorite perfume! You smell so good!"
I looked at her blankly. Huh? I took a shower before coming to the store and put on some deoderant. I hadn't actually foofed. And my clothes were fresh from the dryer.
She continued...."I have some of this at home! It's my favorite!"
I thanked her and looked at the Big Kid when she left. Yeah, I'd noticed the distinctive delicate lilac fragrance in the car, but hey, it's my car, and I often drive it while foofed.
He looked back at me and said, "What?"
What kind of foof did you put on before we left?
"That stuff in the square bottle that said 'tester'. Didn't you say those were for us? I've been using it for weeks. It smells so good. Can you get more?"
Oy!
For some reason, I have some unacceptable HTML while cutting and pasting the poetry and links, and suddenly, not only won't Blogger show me where the errors are, it won't save my post to draft either. ack!
I haven't abandoned you, I promise. I have the list of finalists for the last week of voting, and will try again tomorrow!
That said, I have a funny for you.
A couple of days after the "alien/creature eggs in the digestive tract" episode---yeah that was real---the Big Kid was calmed down, and I had to get him out of the house. I asked him to come to the store with me, and tempted him with a Dagwood sandwich---anything he wanted custom-made from the Deli.
Only had a few things to get, and we could be in and out. But at least he'd be out in the world amongst people.
His depression was such that he hadn't changed clothes or bathed for several days, and though I begged him to shower and change clothes, it was fruitless. I was just desperate to get him out of the damn house.
Again, thinking we'd be in and out, I suggested he--uh--spray some cologne on for a stop-gap measure.
I have a wholesale perfume/cologne connection (remember me, Cheap Doesn't Have to be a Bad Word!), and once a year or so I buy a buttload of "foof" for all our friends and family members, because to get the wholesale price, there's a minimum purchase of $500. So some of my friends get in on it, stock up for the year, or buy Xmas presents for their loved ones and get a deep discount on retail.
This last year, both my guys have been interested in "foofing", and more often than not, have "borrowed" Hubby's stuff, which has made things uncomfortable for me. Hubby has a few scents we've decided were perfect for him over the years (and likewise with me), that we find smellalicious and sexy.
Smelling them on my sons is creepy.
So this year, we decided to expand our horizons on foofy stuff for men. We ordered samples, vials and testers (full-sized bottles that were meant to be testers in department stores and don't have full packaging) of a wide range of designer fragrances. Hopefully each of the guys would find something "non-Dad" that would interest them.
Did I mention in a previous post (Home Makeover) that the boys and I share a bathroom?
Anyway, I was pupping around in the meat department while waiting for the Kid to order his sandwich at the deli. He put it in the cart and stood next to me.
Our store butcher, who is an adorable woman who never fails to greet us and ask us how we're doing when she sees us (we've ordered a couple of special cuts over the years) walked by and stopped.
"Oooh! Jessica McClintock! That's my favorite perfume! You smell so good!"
I looked at her blankly. Huh? I took a shower before coming to the store and put on some deoderant. I hadn't actually foofed. And my clothes were fresh from the dryer.
She continued...."I have some of this at home! It's my favorite!"
I thanked her and looked at the Big Kid when she left. Yeah, I'd noticed the distinctive delicate lilac fragrance in the car, but hey, it's my car, and I often drive it while foofed.
He looked back at me and said, "What?"
What kind of foof did you put on before we left?
"That stuff in the square bottle that said 'tester'. Didn't you say those were for us? I've been using it for weeks. It smells so good. Can you get more?"
Oy!
11 comments:
I've been known to intentional wear men's cologne. Why can't a guy wear a woman's? Why? It's not fair! :)
Don't sweat it over the contest results. The contestants (especially me) can wait...
More rough times for you - bless you for retaining your sense of humour and sharing with us.
And bless Big Kid - if it feels good (or smells good) do it!
I've been wracking my brain (such as it is) to try & remember things that helped me dig out of the deep pit of depression. Medicine eventually did the trick, but the one thing that kept me on this planet and moving when I thought I could NOT go on was Rusty (my eldest cat). Knowing there was another life that was completely dependent on me kept me hanging in there. Then again, I've always been an animal lover. And I have no idea if Big Kid likes animals or is allergic or anything. But seeing how he's suffering from depression makes me want to do ANYTHING, make ANY bargain, to keep him from having to go through that. Give him a big hug from me! And take one for yourself from petty cash. :>
I think you should add some woodsy to the lilac "foof" and market it. You and Big Kid could become millionaires!
I sure hope the depression eases up for him.
P.S. I am too damned dumb and blind for these word verifications we use on our blogs. 2nd try charm?
At least it was a good smelling foof. My dad once got a whiff of my moms perfume and said "hmmm smells like bug spray".
They were divorced shortly after.
At least he has good taste in cologne! ;-)
I hope he gets to feeling better soon :)
shakes head....some days I'm surprised your not hauled away in hand cuffs...
GUFFAW! Oh, that's too funny. Not the Blogger problems, the story about the foof. Hilarious.
But at least he smells good...
and you are benefitting from it...
I loves me so foof! Hey, smelly girlie is still better than stink!
ANYTHING is better than stink!
BOYS! :)
I love the word "foof". I'm going to use it from now on. ha ha.
Sorry about the blogger problems. I felt that way too. It ate to of my entries this past week, and last night, I wrote a pretty deep entry that it ate, so I had to write it OVER. i was pist.
I hope Big Kid feels better soon :[
♥
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