July 30th, 2004

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The Sweet Smell of Sweet Smells

Every once in a while (read: four or five times a day) one of the men I work with walks by me and I'm rendered unable to think or speak because I am entranced by their smell. I can't ask them what cologne they're wearing because I don't know how to ask such a thing without having it sound like a come-on. Make no mistake - I find nothing attractive about these men but their smell. On the other hand, that smell is such that I've turned around and walked into a wall after being passed by one of them.

My husband does not habitually wear odors, and when he does, he certainly doesn't wear any that can be smelled more than four inches from his skin. It's a thin line to walk. Subtle amounts of odor are quite fetching and a good inducement to get closer. However, because they can only be smelled *after* one is already close enough to lick, they do nothing to create an aura of enticement. Perhaps it's just that the sorts of odors he wears don't have "fingers." They don't leave any kind of tantalizing whiff that draws you in.

*sigh*

Oh well.
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buddha virgin

More Ayn Rand Bitching

Any philosophy that requires a 2-hour rant by the main character to state the "core" of its position is too weak to stand up to even the most cursory argument.

Ayn Rand = 0
Logic = 2

And we're down to the last 5 hours of 57 hours of this book. Unless we go into extra innings, this chick is hosed.