The Many Eaus of the Problem Nose
Upon my dressing table are many mysterious wee onion-shaped bottles containing a scent for each of my moods because the telly told me that there is a scent for every mood and it often has something to do with Venice or Paris. I believed the telly but didn’t want to smell like an ancient canal or an enormous outdoor pissoire-au-lait so I set about creating my own perfumes to embody, or ennose at least, the 873 scientifically described emotions of a manic-depressive housewife (only 8 of which are classified as “Any Fun At All”).
I’ve only managed to make 7 at the moment but have recruited the girls to help me in the collection of ingredients. They wear their faerie costumes and I mostly wear a black pointy hat and a false green nose although the Problem Husband has pointed out I might want to wear some other clothes too. He is a very clever man and quite right. What a stinging nettle can do to an unprotected bum isn’t funny at all. In fact Mr. Bush is said to be looking into it as a means of the detainee “coercion” he has just allowed into law in what has to be the greatest moral bound backwards of his most un-American administration. But this is not a political blog so I’ll leave that to others. On with the sniffs then.
Eau # 1 intended for the periods of elevated libido that often plague/please the bipolar person’s manic or hypomanic episode. I described it over at foot Eater’s before but here it is for those who may have missed the recipe:
It is made out of the mashed-up heads of the rare blue dusk-moth which can only be found upon Michaelmas Eve in a particular wild cabbage copse on the Isle of Lewis, when they come out to mate. They are leapt upon immediately by maidens, pure-of-heart (they have to sit a tricky multiple-choice test first to ensure purity) in the manner of people clutching at fivers in that wind-cubicle on a whacky Noel Edmonds variety show).
The heads and antennae are boiled for several hours with the tears of lovers, stinging-nettle syrup and the juice of one lime, and the resultant liquor is pumped by dialysis through Mr. Alan Rickman. Liquid is collected 2 hours later from Mr. Rickman dressed as the Sheriff of Nottingham who’s been reading saucy magazines throughout. The perfume is complete now, with the precious filtrate of Rickman blood, and will vary from batch to batch according to how many oysters he’s been eating. It’s heady stuff indeed. I call it “Eau My!”
Eau # 2 is meant to be worn on those dysphoric days/weeks where agitation and irritability has you unable to sit still and the nocturnal bipolar perfume-wearer might find his or herself climbing the stairs or cleaning cupboards or pacing the house all night long to keep the feeling of physically needing to crawl out of his/her skin.
Step 1: Take some more stinging nettles and the liquefied sound of nails on a blackboard (available at all good Walmarts). Simmer slowly for a week with a Britney Spears’ “Oops I did it Again!” CD and a 5-molar solution of hydrochloric acid (aq).
Step 2: Rub this solution under your eyelids, all over your skin and swallow the remainder with 17 whole butterflies. Collect the tears, skin seepage and vomited bile from this process.
Step 3: Arrange to sit a driving test and your university finals on the same day as having a root canal. Collect resultant sweat.
Step 4. Mix the products of steps 2 and 3 with Venetian canal water and voila! The perfect scent to reflect your current reality! It is called “Eauuuuaaaaagggghhh!” and it stinks.
Eau # 3. Or “Eau de Catatonia”: Don’t shower for 2 weeks and collect the odor in sheeps stomachs which have been marinating in hospital grade disinfectant for untold years. You need no other scent. Well, you do (you really do) but this product will indeed reflect your mood. There are many variations possible with this “base” falling loosely under the product-line “L’eau”.
Eau # 4 or “Eau to Joy!” Take the leap of a gambolling lamb, the luck of a gambling Irishman and the love of a lassie for her laddie. Capture the scent of these somehow (technique not yet perfected despite many field-trips to Las Vegas and A Farm) and mix with fresh, green grass, the comforting dust of ancient books and the bonhomie of a night out with your best friends (this bonhomie might well have some beer in it; it might not; it might be gin).
Eau # 5 or “Eau d’ear”: Take the tears your husband/wife will shed after he sees the credit-card bill for your multiple corner-shelving and 1950’s nylon petticoat purchases from ebay. Take your own eventual incredulity and dismay at the arrival of many packages of what seemed like great ideas/bargains at the time.
Mix.
Add the metallic flavour you get in your mouth when you narrowly avoid a road accident and ferment in sherry casks for several years, to deepen. Just before the final distillation, add the sweet and salt flavour of ice-cream licked from your arm on a hot day and Essence of Bafflement (Jean-Claude Gaultier has bulk-buying rates on cases of this).
*
I do have a few other completed eaus (eaux?) but I feel this has gone on long past the point at which people will have stopped reading. I will add this to my growing list of uncompleted blog stories which will be completed at some point but not today. Today I have to gather a pigeon sneeze, a Hells Angel’s whisker and the somnolent wheeze of an asthmatic transvestite professor of marmalade. I will use these in the creation of my newest eaupus (hahahahahahahahem): “S’Eau Surreal.” In the television advert for this perfume, its name will be whispered by Marge Simpson in a fading echoey way as if she were in a deep blue cave whispering out to a swirly, yellow world.
My question: What perfume or smell do you like the bestest?
(Addendum: It’s night-time now and I’ve just re-read what I posted today. It all sounds a bit self-indulgent and woe-is-me-ey. I’m sorry folks! I just bashed it out because I thought it tied in neatly with the recent Stephen Fry bipolar stuff over at Pat’s (Past Imperfect) and the perfume stuff over at Foot Eaters. I didn’t realise it was coming out quite like that. I thought I’d made the tone lighter than the result. Don’t let me scare you away! Really, I’m really the most naturally optimistic and cheery bipolar person you may ever meet! When I started this blog, a small part of the idea was to bash out into the void some of the bipolar stuff if I felt like it. In the event I haven’t really felt like it. It bores me, quite frankly. I’ll shut up now in case it starts boring you lot. I guess I meant to say sorry if the change in tone bit seems too abrupt. Normal service will be resumed in the comment box (Don’t comment on this last bit in itallics. Just tell me how you all smell and what smells you like – See! I aren’t in the least bit scary or wierd am I?)
September 25th, 2006 at 11:37 pm
Eau d’ear what’s that smell? Cor!
Like this post but I’ve had an off-day and find myself lacking intelligent thought so I will come back later to read, absorb, respond, perhaps even to contribute to reasoned debate. Failing which I will resort to my usual vague attempts at humour!
September 26th, 2006 at 12:01 am
Tattieheid, I didn’t know if that one would fly. It’s supposed to be a pun on “Oh dear”. Nothing worse than a wingless pun.
September 26th, 2006 at 12:05 am
I love your comments, Tattieheid. Your sense of humour’s cracking. I still chuckle over your “snickering of observers” and “calumnity of journalists”.
September 26th, 2006 at 1:48 am
Eau Que, I’ll bite.
Point of order, though. As to our personal favorites, are you asking about what we put on our ruggedly handsome American selves or buy for the ever more beautiful long-suffering official German spouse?
Cheers.
September 26th, 2006 at 2:47 am
Should I have said, “Point of ‘Eau-der?’”
Cheers.
September 26th, 2006 at 2:56 am
Why your ruggedly handsome American self AND your German EMBLOS. And anything else that comes to mind. I like cigar smoke but pipe smoke makes me ill. My favourite smells in the world are my children’s heads, my grandpa’s wardrobe and old books. And turkey roasting.
I might phrase the question another way to add more scope: What do YOU smell like?
In case that’s too personal, answer it howveryever you like. Or not. As you wish, although it would be nice to hear from y’all, so’s I don’t have to listen to the wind whistle through my barren blog and watch tumbleweed blow across my desolate comment-box.
But wait, do I really want to know your olfactory preoccupations? I mean, you MIGHT all be real honkers out there. I haven’t met any of you in the flesh, you know. Apart from a few people and the least said about Mr. Furry’s personal aroma the better.
September 26th, 2006 at 3:02 am
Thank you for the compliments, cheered me up and restored my equilibrium.
Had a committe meeting tonight. I hate committees, to be fair I think this particular committee is starting to hate me in return so I suppose that’s about right.
Some favourite smells off the top of my head – the smell of a woman, the smell of the sea on a fresh day, the smell of fresh bread as it comes out of the oven, the smell of beeswax, linseed, shellac (French polish), certain malt whiskys or a good brandy, the smell of the glens just after the rain.
From a perfume point of view, I don’t like anything too sweet or sickly, overpowering. A good perfume should be used sparingly and should blend with the natural scent of the wearer to produce a subtle, individual and alluring pong!
Some of your “homebrews” sound just the ticket, launch your own line of highly individual recipes. After all if that Posh english bird can do it then an island lass of your class and discernment should have nae bother!
September 26th, 2006 at 3:18 am
The ocean is good. I remember being in the mountains after a rain. Cut grass in the spring. The EMBLOS’ pillow when she’s away in Europe visiting family.
Cheers, dear.
September 26th, 2006 at 3:27 am
No idea what I smell like, but no one has asked me to leave the room for a long time. On the other hand I’m currently single (checks armpits) so who am I to judge.
I rarely wear after shave and if I do feel a need for deoderant, use an unscented one. So I guess what you get is me. I do shower and change my clothes daily so there is some respite from Pong Naturel.
This feels weird discussing this in public – or even in front of “a snickering of observers.”
September 26th, 2006 at 3:48 am
SAPPY WARNING! GOING SAPPY! WATCH OUT FOR THE SAPPINESS! HERE IT COMES! I WARNED YOU BITCHES AND BASTARDS, THIS’LL BE SO SAPPY YOU’D THINK I’M MADE OF MAPLE SYRUP! ITS SO SWEET YOU’LL HAVE AN UNCONTROLLABLE URGE TO BRUSH YOUR TEETH! STOP NOW, OR YOU WILL GET STIIIICKY!!!
My favorite smells are:
My wife’s hair at the end of the day, when we settle down to sleep.
The smell of my baby daughter as she nuzzles my shoulder in a vain search for boobies that just ain’t there.
The smell of my 5 year old daughter right after her bath, when she sits on my lap and reads stories with me.
I fucking warned you all.
September 26th, 2006 at 3:59 am
Sappy as hell SafeT – but really sweet! That’s your “hardman” reputation gone forever now.
September 26th, 2006 at 4:02 am
Tattieheid, some top pongs there. I like the smell of whisky too, although I can’t drink it for love nor money. I wish I could but, alas, I’m none too good on the spirits. The smell of a woman, though? Are you sure? There are some pretty whiffy women about, you know. I would add “showered”: the smell of a showered woman, otherwise you’re leaving yourself open to all manner of malodorous ladies.
Randall, my friend, that’s beautiful about the pillow. You have a very lucky EMBLOS there. I like freshly cut grass too until your nose tells you with unmistakeable certainty that you’ve accidentally mowed your way through a dog poo and you’re now faced with raking it up and bagging it. Happened to me more than once in my childhood lawn-mowing days.
September 26th, 2006 at 4:08 am
SafeT, you big soppy-head, that’s lovely. Sleepytime smells are the best. You’re a great big softie and I’m going to tell everyone!
“Hey Everyone! SafeT’s saying soppy stuff! Come and point at him!
September 26th, 2006 at 4:15 am
I like the smell of an early morning Blog that lingers with you throughout the day, no matter how many windies you open.
September 26th, 2006 at 4:44 am
I should probably have elaborated but I was trying to avoid turning into a mushy Tattie! I think SafeT will have to get a new hat, the hard one’s melted and gone all soft and gooey.
September 26th, 2006 at 5:04 am
What are you doing up at this time, Old Knudsen? And Tattieheid – it’s the wee wee hours. You’ll be grumpy in the morning, you know, the pair of you!
September 26th, 2006 at 5:22 am
“It all sounds a bit self-indulgent and woe-is-me-ey.”
No, it doesn’t. Very reminiscent of Bradbury’s “Dandelion Wine,” and I mean that as a compliment of the highest order.
For me, when it’s not Eau #3, it’s Paloma Picasso. I’ve never found anyone else I know who wears it, so I consider it my signature scent.
Personally, I love the smell of lemon blossoms. I will sniff them for hours, until my eyes cross, and until someone drags me away, with me kicking and screaming. Oh, and roses. I used to wear a perfume that smelled just like roses, but I can’t find it anymore.
For the husband, it’s Liz Claiborne Sport For Men. I picked it out for him, and I associate it with him. The smell of it immediately makes me horny. He knows he can always get lucky, if he puts just the tiniest dab on, in some hidden spot. If I can’t immediately tell where it’s coming from, I will rip his clothes off to find it. No one else wears it. Once, I did smell it on some strange guy, in a lind for a fast food place, and I was extremely unnerved by how Pavlovian my reaction was.
I’m with you on loving the smell of my kid’s heads. At least until my daughter got out of the “little kid” phase. She’s a teenager now, and drenches herself in whatever godawful crap is handy. The toddler, he’s still good.
I also love the smell of a certain part of my husband’s anatomy, which I will refrain from mentioning, so as not to scar your delicate psyches. But, it smells like tea leaves and dried rose petals, and is lovely. Weirdest thing ever, I know.
September 26th, 2006 at 5:24 am
“I mostly wear a black pointy hat and a false green nose although the Problem Husband has pointed out I might want to wear some other clothes too. He is a very clever man and quite right. What a stinging nettle can do to an unprotected bum isn?t funny at all.”
And that and cactus is why you should not go skyclad in California while doing spells. Oh, and neighbors.
September 26th, 2006 at 5:30 am
You got to watch them chaps they can give you a rash if you’re not careful!
It takes a bit of reading but it’s wonderful and not as dark as you think.
It’s 6.15 in the morning here and having been up all night bloghopping I think I’ll catch a couple of hours sleep but I’m sure others will be over to entertain you soon, they are probably just waking up.
Stephen Fry is wonderfully entertaining and gifted, also very brave and thoughtful but So Are You!
This is getting soppy can’t have that zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzsnorezzzzzzzz!
September 26th, 2006 at 6:18 am
You bunch of kiddie sniffers I’m sure thats illegal. And Sam, I’m old and going to die soon so why sleep much? I did see your comment mentioning some strange fella from Fort William which was on the post below the Heff one, do you know Ben Nevis from Fort William? a big lad with mood swings, can be quite cold at times.
September 26th, 2006 at 8:13 am
“Eau My” sounds divine, though I can’t help but get a nagging feeling that you’re somewhat reinventing the wheel, sod the nettles, “Pour Homme” by Jean Paul Gaultier is the closest thing to lust-in-a-bottle that your senses will ever witness.
During my school years, a rather quiet, tubby lad of suspect persuasion and a rather pronounced lisp bathed in it nightly, or so I recall. Bent as a nine bob note, he was (if you’ll pardon the expression) – but I didn’t care, one waft of JPG’s “Pour Homme” and I wanted to eat him alive in the middle of the cafeteria.
Tell you what, after having syphoned lustful juices from the loins of Alan Rickman, can you plaster an Air Mail sticker to his forehead and forward him on to the suburban corners of the Forest of Epping? (so much for the Green Belt preventing the inevitable urban sprawl…) Then, we can still be friends…
September 26th, 2006 at 9:57 am
mmmmmmmmmmmmm Alan Rickman mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
I bet he smells nice.
One of my favourite smells is a pine forest by the sea just after a nice spot of rain……mmmmmmm
I would like to sniff Alan Rickman though
September 26th, 2006 at 11:16 am
I just like nettle soup in the green
My favourite smell is of line dried linen that has been blowing on a salty West Coast drying green. It is spread on a hot June bed, and I’m in it with newly shaved legs feeling mildly drowsy with a book about to fall on my nose.
This is a poem I wrote about mt favourite smells:
Heart Notes
Sun dried sheets, pressed by hot,
quick maternal hands, and then
spread out on a clean, June bed.
The burnt candy floss shame of a
first kiss, with the wrong boy,
on a long gone ghost train.
The reek of salt and feral garlic
in April sea-hugged woods. One whiff
still makes this sinner blush.
In the lee of a warm, curved back
a shadow lies awake; content to
draw on all of his abandoned grace.
The talc halo round a towel wrapped
babe. A care-filled day of endless toil
rewarded by a single gummy smile.
The old shirt beneath her
pillow, comforter and bolster
against each lonely, solo dawn.
Heart notes linger. Hair
triggers on the shell of memory
till the bitter end.
September 26th, 2006 at 11:47 am
My favourite smell is the smell of burning Irish politicians.
Also, it’s funny you were talking about bare bottoms and Mr. Bush looking into nettles in the same sentence. Mr. Bush. Hahahahahahaha.
September 26th, 2006 at 12:26 pm
I smell of Dior. Well actually right this second I smell of ‘just back from yoga, or eau d’ crap.
My favourite smell if vanilla and also firelighters. I also like the smell of new books, cut grass and horses, but I don’t know if I coulld possibly market it as a scent. I seem to recognise eau D’ear too. Does it come with a stomach clenching enevlope refusing knot?
September 26th, 2006 at 5:03 pm
I have to comment about the Itallics, dirty people they are all shagging their own sisters and brushing their teeth with Garlic toothpaste, a smell I really hate, maybe a throw back to when the Scots kicked their arses, oh its the garlic smell I hate, not the inbred sex, though I’m sure that smells pretty ripe too in case for once I wasn’t clear.
September 26th, 2006 at 6:00 pm
Being a sweaty gun-toting rugged type, I choose Ramb Eau.
September 26th, 2006 at 6:28 pm
I’ve managed never to have read any Bradbury, Sparra’, apart from one short story at my auntie’s years ago. You will be horrified by this, as all Bradburyphiles are, and you are quite right to be. I have a stack of books to read usually, at any one time; I just haven’t got around to him somehow. This will be amended soon, now you have brought him back to my attention.
Liz Claiborne’s Sport for men, eh? Haven’t smelled that one before.
Tattieheid, you’re right. On a third pass it didn’t seem nearly as gloomy as on the second. Essence of Paranoia might be the next one I have to whip up. What to call it though? “Eau Neau!’ mehbe or “Greaun”. I think I’ve beaten this “eau” thing to death now.
Old Knudsen, you’re right, Old Man Nevis does nip a bit if you’re not careful. Best way is just to stick him with some crampons to show him who’s boss.
Claire, I hope you’re not going to be difficult about this Alan business. See the thing is, he’s going to leave his wife very soon and we are going to run away together to a castle where he can practice his sword fighting and I will make a modest living cooking jellyfish for the colourful local characters and we will have hardly any money but that’s OK for we’ll have each other, and a lovely echoey castle besides, and then the castle will float off with us in it flinging rose petals on the villagers as we soar… Or was that a dream? Anyway, I won’t share him nicely! Iwon’tIwon’tIwon’t!
And JPG’s “Pour Homme” eh? I can see i’m going to have to conduct an outing to the Homme department and sniff out all these potent scents that have you ladies all a flutter.
Birchsprite, get in line after me and Claire if you want any Alan nose-action!
Apprentice, that’s beautiful. Thank-you for letting us see that poem. Smell is our most evocative sense, so they say and just one wee whiff of something can conjure up whole worlds in our minds. You’ve managed to turn that around somehow with word portraits which put the smells of what you describe right in our noses. Or our mind’s noses. Anyway, however you did it, it hits all the right buttons: “The burnt candy-floss shame of a/ First kiss, with the wrong boy”. I love that.
Swearing Lady, you feisty mama, do you like your Irish politicians rare, medium or well done? Or on a stick? Having read about Cecilia Ahern I have to agree with you there. She seems to have singlehandedly lowered the formerly formidably high bar of Irish letters by several notches and I can’t imagine she could have done this without her Taoiseach daddy. I’ll bring the kebab sticks if you bring the marshmallows.
fmc, I have a vanilla candle burning at this very minute and my nose is taking an almost obscene pleasure in it. Do you like petrol? I like firelighters but filling up the car makes me queasy. New books are good but I prefer old ones. My grandpa owned the paper in the Western Isles when I was wee and it was still printed in Stornoway. I loved the smell of the print room when he took me in there to see the printers work the machines. I’ve never been offended by the smell of any herbivore or it’s poo. Horse leavings, cow pats don’t bother me a bit. It’s the meat-eating animals that really stink: puppy breath and cat poo, sheesh louieesh!
Old Knudsen, I used to love garlic, I couldn’t get enough of it, but when I was pregnant even just the thought of it turned my stomach and I’ve never quite regained my former appetite for it. Pregnancy does very weird things to tastebuds indeed. The smell of oregano made me ill too.
September 26th, 2006 at 6:32 pm
I am reminded of a “Seinfeld” episode where Kramer had the idea of creating a cologne that smelled like one does after visiting the beach…appropriately, he intended to call it “The Beach.” In keeping with that general tone I would suggest the following new fragrances:
Eau de new Construction – there’s just something about the smell of new sheetrock and two by fours.
Eau de new car – need I say more?
Eau de mowed grass – so fresh, so summer-like
Eau de gasoline – come on, you know you like the smell
Eau de crayon – what can I say?
Eau de paste – the kind I use to sniff as a child in school…good stuff.
September 26th, 2006 at 6:44 pm
Well that’s hardly fair, Foots. In your line of work, I mean. Being gun-toting and rugged in the morgue is hardly giving the deceased a sporting chance, is it? For one, they can’t be intimidated by your ruggedness which might be seen to give them the upper hand in the mental battle as you are left snarling ruggedly at a serenely unmoved foe. But they just will. not. be. violent, for it is in their very nature to be pacificts. You are taking advantage of their eternal peace-loving beliefs there, Footie. You forgot to mention if you were sexy too though, for there is little point in being sweaty and gun-toting and rugged if you are not also sexy. All are very welcome here, the sexy and the unsexy but you might as well collect circa 1950s kitchen appliances in greens and blues if you’re going to be rugged, sweaty, gun-toting but not sexy.
September 26th, 2006 at 6:49 pm
Joel, I’d forgotten crayons! And freshly sharpened pencils.
Yesterday one of the Problem Children had a penny clutched in her hand all afternoon and smeared sweaty-penny-metal-whiff all over my face at tea-time. All sorts of memories of pocket money and scraped knees came back to me as a result of that.
September 26th, 2006 at 7:00 pm
yes, freshly sharpened pencils…very good…although as you have taught us, we must be careful what pencils we use lest we suffer the havoc of biblical proportion you described not long ago.
September 26th, 2006 at 8:23 pm
But a dream, dear… Last time I checked, he was stood at the foot of my bed-chamber; staid, winged and every-so wry (think Metatron in Dogma) with his eyebrow arched seductively, the whispered tale of how he’d left his wife and absconded to the Enchanted Forest of Epping, playing upon his lips. (Well, after a fleeting tryst with a certain wasp-waisted, crinolene-clad dame, which to his account was far too high-maintenance – those tight-laced corsets played buggery with his fancing hand).
Putting a photo to a name, this is JPG’s Pour Homme
September 26th, 2006 at 8:43 pm
How odd, the smell of petrol leaves me gaggin’, but I have always loved firelighters and I used to go to Blackberry market and Mother Redcaps Market and buy plastic bag loads of used books and I swear I adored the smell of them too.
Hum, are you sure your father didn’t knock about with a terrible vicious tongued harridan of a woman in his youth?
September 27th, 2006 at 12:23 am
The after shave I use sparingly (It has such an effect on the wummin – I wish!) is “Eau Sauvage” by Christian Dior. It’s expensive and I’m a Scotsman which explains why I use it sparingly! Looked it up in an online French Dictionary and apparently Sauvage means “Wild/Untamed” which is a description I will be pleased to accept and try to live up to!
?Eau Neau!? is a wonderfully descriptive phase, I think we should all adopt that one for when we feel slightly paranoid! But how do we decide the ingredients?
September 27th, 2006 at 1:07 am
I can vouch that Mr Eater is indeed sexy, the sweating is a little gross, I hear its a gland problem, he packs a mighty fine weapon only to be discharged in a safe direction, well except when its funny not to, men and women fall dead at his feet due to his sexyness, or is it due to the hollow points? well its handy for his job.
Sam, with your Alan Rickman addiction have you seen the music video for the song ‘In Demand’ that came out about 6 years back by the Scottish group Texas?
September 27th, 2006 at 9:04 am
I hate to do this to you……..
But I currently have Mister Rickman locked up here in my spare room….just so as I can smell him whenever I want……
Mwahahahahahaha
hehem
September 27th, 2006 at 9:39 am
Bloody hell, he gets about a bit, doesn’t he?
September 27th, 2006 at 10:31 am
He’s a bit of a Rogue!
September 27th, 2006 at 10:57 am
My son’s trainers produce “Eau d’odour”, the dog loves it, he’s even been known to try and roll on them, as if they were a dead gannet on the beach.
I’m sure bad smells could be the new chemical weapons, and nobody would get hurt. You’d just go, “Phoor that bogging!” and flee.
September 27th, 2006 at 5:40 pm
I’m dating myself, here, but I just remembered: freshly mimeographed paper in grade school. Loved it.
Cheers.
September 27th, 2006 at 9:21 pm
Hi PCB,
You mentioned Stephen Fry’s program, this blog gives an interesting take on it http://trick-cyclingforbeginners.blogspot.com/
The blogger is a junior psychiatrist who is herself bipolar. She has also posted her partners outlook on it and both make fascinating reading.
September 28th, 2006 at 2:18 am
Apprentice said — “I?m sure bad smells could be the new chemical weapons, and nobody would get hurt. You?d just go, ?Phoor that bogging!? and flee.”
That’s what protesters do to abortion clinics down South. Break a window at night, toss in the stuff, and bail. The whole building has to be torn down, as the smell is so bad. Even replacing all the walls, flooring, etc. will not do it.
September 28th, 2006 at 5:31 am
Wee one’s up and down with a gippy tummy tonight so I think the best thing is to go in with her for the night. I’ll respond individually to all your lovely comments tomorrow morning.
September 28th, 2006 at 9:48 am
Hope she is feeling a bit better today……. sending positive thoughts!
September 28th, 2006 at 10:29 am
My favourite smells – New Canvas, fresh paint, new brushes, pencil shavings, new paper ….mmmm
New leather shoes, (and the smell of the box they came in!), old leather harnesses, damp leaves, lavender, my man’s fresh sweat when he comes off the tennis court. Apple pie fresh out of the oven, stored apples in a dusty shed, garlicy clams, wood bonfires. And I wear Nicole Farhi Femme.
September 28th, 2006 at 2:11 pm
I didn’t find it ‘woe is me ey’ in the slightest; just Sam at her dippiest, brilliant best. Needless to say Eau four – the joy one is my choice. Do let me know if you ever perfect the manufacture as I have been looking for the definitive scent all my life since pinching sone of Vanessa’s mothers ‘Je Reviens’ and then dying with shame when her mother recognised the smell at dinner.
September 28th, 2006 at 2:24 pm
Alan Rickman married? You’re kidding! Right?
September 28th, 2006 at 5:41 pm
Joel, you’re absolutely right. And may I say how refreshing it is to see someone paying attention to the really important threats to our way of life. Gobal warming, global shwarming – it’s the pencils we ought to be tackling!
Claire, i couldn’t figure out if you meant his fencing had or his fancying hand. I rather like the latter!
fmc, “Hum, are you sure your father didn?t knock about with a terrible vicious tongued harridan of a woman in his youth?”. Yours and mine both then.
Tattieheid, Eau Sauvage! Golly! I am definitely going to have a nosey around the Homme section of Macy’s next time I’m down in Ventura. I think Eau Neau would consist of sleep from the corners of the eyes of restlessly sleeping REM-phase madmen/women; two or three mafia cigars; 3 hairs plucked from the beard of Fidel Castro (although he’s not altogether paranoid: they ARE out to get HIM); and the ever more wan smile of Mr. T Blair.
Old Knudsen, I haven’t. Is His Alanness in it, then?
Birchsprite you sicko! Quick, where do you live, I’m coming round!
Claire, if we’re smart about this we can all keep him locked up forever and nobody will ever find us out. Ssssssssssh!
Apprentice, a bit like weapons of mass perspiration, or something. I think you might just have saved humankind from destroying itself, you mad genius of an apprentice you.
Rand’ I hope it won’t make you feel worse if I tell you I have no idea what freshly mimeographed paper is and will have to look it up in a minute.
tattieheid, thanks for the link, hun, I’ll be checking that out tonight.
Fat Sparrow, some of these extreme pro-lifers are real wack-jobs. Still, the stink bomb thing is better than a real bomb, I guess.
Birchsprite, thanks – she’s much better today. As much as anything else, I think she just wanted cuddles and another story, but that’s OK. I kind of did myself.
Shebah, you have a nose of exquisite taste. Following on from fmc’s favoured horsey smells and your leather harness smells (you did mean horse-harnesses right? I only ask because this is the internet, after all, and there are all sorts of erm “hobbyists” about.) I like the whole stable smell as well: sweet hay, pungent manure, the underside of saddles, sugarbeet sacks. Delicious all.
Pat, oh you’re not going to tell me he’s come out as gay now, are you? I’m still struggling to get over the grevious loss for womankind of Rupert Everett, Mr. Fry and Jeremy Irons. It’s always the best ones, isn’t it. You never hear that Les Dennis or Jeremy Clarkson are gay, do you?
September 28th, 2006 at 5:44 pm
Jeremy Irons isn’t gay, he just lives in Limerick. He married to one of those acting sisters.
September 28th, 2006 at 6:02 pm
That, my dear fmc, is the best news I’ve had in a while. Married though, eh? Ah well…
September 28th, 2006 at 9:29 pm
Married yes, interested in cha chas, definitely. It’s all good.
September 28th, 2006 at 9:30 pm
Those all sound quiet intriguing. Unfortunately, I can’t smell anything right now with this damn cold.
September 28th, 2006 at 10:14 pm
PCB: I meant fencing, but what with all the excitement, my proofreading skills have gone to pot! Though his “fancying” hand sounds infinitely better, so I’m sticking with that.
The Rickman’s a Gay? Surely not? Bloody hell – the Gaydar cocked-up royally on that one, if that be the case… :S
September 28th, 2006 at 11:44 pm
I don’t think I would want to be wearing Tony Blair’s “wan smile”, even when I’m feeling paranoid! The rest I agree with.
September 29th, 2006 at 6:40 am
The ‘In Demand’ video by Texas has Alan Rickman looking all romantic and dancing with the lead singer, who is a girl, hes quite convincing straight, what an actor, oops did I say that, the song is all about her leaving him and getting someone better.
September 29th, 2006 at 7:55 am
“Fat Sparrow, some of these extreme pro-lifers are real wack-jobs. Still, the stink bomb thing is better than a real bomb, I guess.”
Some? I’ll bet it’s more than just some.
I do love poking them with a stick. My bad, and all, but it is fun. They usually go on about “Don’t you realize abortion is murder?!” and if you agree with them that it is murder, and say you are still pro-choice, they get a really scared look on their face, and back away slowly, heh heh heh. Even better if you can toss in a “We’ve got to reduce the population somehow!” or even “Soilent Green is people!” Free entertainment, all of it.
September 29th, 2006 at 10:21 am
“Has been in a relationship with Rima Horton since the 1965. The pair share a home in London.”
The saddest sentences I ever read on IMDB. Sniff……..
http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000614/bio
September 29th, 2006 at 1:44 pm
I’m better looking than Alan Rickman but I’m old, broke, jobless, not gay and definitely nuts. for some reason it doesn’t seem to hold the same attraction for women – don’t know why. I’m a better sword fighter too.
September 29th, 2006 at 3:46 pm
I like that #1. Anything passed through Alan Rickman is a-okay in my book.
My favorite smells are Lavender, gasoline, WD-40, and lead paint.
I don’t know what I smell like, but it’s probably a mixture of sweat and cleaning products. Sometimes beer. Well, a lot of times beer. But only because vodka is odorless.
September 29th, 2006 at 5:22 pm
Tattieheid, you could be my long lost twim brother who I left for dead in the trenches of Verdun.
‘Rima’ is that a girl or a guy’s name? whats it short for? Rimjob? those actors from the RSC are all abit iffy, they bring up the question repeatedly ‘Are they gay or just English’?
Women are attracted to those non threatening types that are unattainable due to flamingness, while us edgy types go without.
September 29th, 2006 at 5:55 pm
I found the thing about Rima too, birchsprite. At least he’s not gay though.
Fellas, it’s not so much that he’s good looking; it’s far more subtle and sexy than that. It’s his voice and the way he carries himself and his dark wit and brooding and tenderness and masculinity and experience and the way he looks at women and oozes sex appeal in a way i won’t ever be able to describe except to say that it’s very real and … ooh! I’ve come over all peculiar. I think I’d better have a wee bit of a lie down…
September 29th, 2006 at 6:04 pm
Inspector Morse had it too. And Jeremy Irons has got it. And Liam Neeson. And Anthony Hopkins. It has less to do with looks, (which I think is harder for men to understand because women are deemed sexy almost purely on what they look like, whereas women can tolerate and even desire more anomolies in features) and more to do with richness of character and discretion, and smouldering passion and it’s deeply, deeply sexy.
September 29th, 2006 at 7:29 pm
andraste, welcome, thanks for coming by. I like your way of smelling!
September 29th, 2006 at 8:28 pm
“Fellas, it?s not so much that he?s good looking; it?s far more subtle and sexy than that. It?s his voice and the way he carries himself and his dark wit and brooding and tenderness and masculinity and experience and the way he looks at women and oozes sex appeal in a way i won?t ever be able to describe except to say that it?s very real and ? ooh! I?ve come over all peculiar. I think I?d better have a wee bit of a lie down? ”
That’s the way my ex used to describe me. Like many women she confused pipe dreams with reality!
Old Knudsen, I always wanted a brother – welcome!
September 29th, 2006 at 8:38 pm
I” think is harder for men to understand because women are deemed sexy almost purely on what they look like, whereas women can tolerate and even desire more anomolies in features) and more to do with richness of character and discretion, and smouldering passion and it?s deeply, deeply sexy”
Not all men are shallow and looking for “showroom models”. My ex was good looking but would never have won any beauty competitions. In my eyes she is (still) the most beautiful, sexy ,intelligent and passionate woman I have ever met. It’s all to do with character!
September 30th, 2006 at 4:30 am
Dear Tattieheid, oh brother of mine, can ye lend me a tenner? we are family, I suspect theres some stalking to be done, don’t worry I’ll be your alibi.
Ok Sam, you’ve talked me into it, Alan Rickman with his nasally voice is sex on a stick, as for Liam Neeson, ‘yer arse is sticking out the window and they are throwing beer bottles at it’, an old saying, I don’t know if you’ve heard it, to put it plainly, no he is not sexy. Jeremy Irons, I’ll never forgive him for Brideshead Revisited, Inspector Morse,(John Thaw) boy do we British have some odd sex symbols, he did kick ass in the Sweeny, and Mr Hopkins, or Tony as I call him, indeed, he smolders in any role he gets, but he now hangs around with that Bill Clinton fella, only trouble can come of it.
September 30th, 2006 at 2:11 pm
Listen. listen, listen! I never said he was gay. I have no knowledge of any such thing. All I know is he makes a great chum to people like Ruby Wax and that actress who was in ‘Truly Madly Deeply’ and cries with snot. He is very camp – that’s all i’m saying.
September 30th, 2006 at 6:17 pm
http://capetorio.blogspot.com/
Are you going to the party?
Are you going to the Boston Tea Party?
Redcoats in the village
There’s fighting in the streets
The Indians and the
mountain men, well
They are talking when they meet
The king has said he’s gonna put a tax on tea
And that’s the reason you all Americans drink coffee
Are you going to the party?
Are you going to the Boston Tea Party?
September 30th, 2006 at 8:29 pm
I suppose as perfumes go I like Poison, it is almost repulsive in its cloying scent at first. But after putting it on the skin for about an hour it really reeks of femme fatale and I feel devistatingly attractive wearing it, even when I look like a bag lady or am sad about the state of my stretch marked breasts. But perfumed men. No no no. I never met an after shave that worked. There is nothing the like the fresh sweat on the brows (or other parts) of a man you desire, although maybe your Eau #1 comes close to bottling some of the animalistic freshness of Scent de l’Homme.
September 30th, 2006 at 10:17 pm
Hey Doc, the more I read it the more it rhymes, could be the drink.
October 1st, 2006 at 9:08 am
Pat I love it when you think we’re not paying attention. I can see your dainty foot stamping.
You make the most wonderful Cassandra, fated always to speak the truth but never be believed.
I of course know different, which is why I can sit back like Big King Boko and watch all the fun.
It’s a tonic.
October 2nd, 2006 at 10:50 am
Sam: are you there. How many comments are you aiming for? I’m green with envy. Hope you are over the trowel. Believe me there are many more implements in the shed. Now don’t miss my wedding please – coming soon – Korean War 1951 permitting. bring all the family.xoxoxoxox
October 2nd, 2006 at 3:28 pm
Well hell, everyobody in the world seems to be commenting on this one so here’s my bit. But Sam, don’t worry about responding – methinks you’ve got too many comments already.
Ok, so my favourite smells are;
The smell of my daughter (her breath, her hair,etc)
My husband’s breath (it’s really nice!)
Peatsmoke when walking through the village of Gress on a calm Autumn evening
Gress beach
Greenhouses (when they have tomatoes growing in them)
Fresh garlic and coffee (though not necessarily at the same time)
Whiskey
Smells I don’t like; (apart from the obvious ones like poo, etc)
air freshners, especially those plug-in types
strong, heavy perfume
blood
pork chops cooking
Smells that make me feel a little bit frisky:
Darkrooms (ie for photography, must be something in those chemicals they use)
Freshly carved wood
Hugo Boss (a little bit unimaginative here and I’m not sure it’s even that. Whatever it is my husband wears…scent -wise)
October 16th, 2006 at 2:01 pm
Wow, what a lot of comments!
I haven’t beed here for ages. Sorry about that.
I like your perfume recipes. I might try one of them out.
October 24th, 2006 at 11:31 am
You’ve been reading Susskind, haven’t you.
August 7th, 2011 at 7:15 am
very helpful…
I preferred to thank you for this good article. http://motomodders.socialgo.com/members/profile/413/blog-view/springtime-2011-developer-fur-fads_495.html I by all odds liked every little bit of it…
August 7th, 2011 at 7:15 am
very helpful…
I preferred to thank you for this good article. http://vdoplanet.com/read_blog/1247/realizing-authentic-purses-and I by all odds liked every little bit of it…
August 8th, 2011 at 1:25 pm
Great…
love your blog, http://www.weddingbycolor.com/fannie11 ,Thanks again….
September 2nd, 2011 at 12:55 am
very helpful…
I preferred to thank you for this good article. http://lychtb.schoolnet.co.nz/2011/09/01/beach-a-wedding-dress-2/ I by all odds liked every little bit of it…