Encoded deep within our DNA is the desire to have our genitals meet with those of another that ends in either joy or disappointment. Because of that desire, we tend to put ourselves on display, however, our attempts at mimicking mating rituals in the wild kingdom come off as forced and desperate. We wear bright colors due to the distinct lack of plumage; we feign interest as someone goes into excruciatingly painful details about that last minute policy they had to rush to “The Hill” to defend the Fishermen’s Guild who demand more tonnage of shrimp per haul. We even go so far as to flat out lie, hoping that the person across from us is either stupid enough or drunk enough to believe the man standing before them, with the physique of a 35-year old John Candy, is really training to be the next American astronaut on a Russian space mission.
Naturally, first impressions are everything, and 3/5ths of the senses that matter are the ones you wish to appeal to.
Fellas, while you may not be aware of it, in this day and age, most women prefer that the man of their fancies at least smells like he attempts to bathe on a semi-regular basis. You may be asking yourself “Who the hell cares about my odor so long as I don’t smell like rancid monkey ass?” It’s a valid question–from the male perspective–in the dating world, while not having a significant BO problem is a plus, the faint smell of stale Doritos ain’t doing you any favors. You may think to yourself “well I wear deodorant.” Big whoop! You’re doing something we’ve all done to avoid being the smelly kid in class, it covers up your stink, it does not enhance.
Eau de...Ew
Firstly, you need to get over that unfounded fear that wearing cologne is going to turn you into a pretentious douchebag who is only able to communicate using a single two to three syllable word and also wears torn shirts and high-water hip huggers. Next thing to remember is finding a cologne that works with your natural musk. You can’t just buy any old thing and call it a day; you at least have to pretend you’re trying to be an adult. Visit your nearest Macy’s or preferred department store (that doesn’t end in –mart or -get) and ask around, they’ll be more than willing to help you find a selection as they’re looking to pawn off as much overpriced, scented toilet water as possible. Yes, it is expensive, but it’s an investment you’ll just have to make.
For all that is holy do not let the price tag dissuade you into traveling to the local Wal*Mart to pick up a two pack of Axe for eight bucks. Axe is good for two things and two things only: high school dances and impromptu flamethrowers. No, you don’t smell like sex, and no, women will not fall from the heavens with the desire to touch you where your bathing suit covers. You will be talked about, and the comments made behind your back will equate to: “Boy, I remember when I was a schumck.”
What’s important to remember is, much like everything else, you can, and more than likely will, overdo it. When that happens, you’ll know, as, whenever you enter and leave someone’s personal space, it will be followed by a not-so-subtle cough. Here’s a pretty good rule of thumb: if you can literally taste what you’re wearing before you walk out of the house, you need to disrobe, burn those clothes, and shower immediately before you offend everyone in the greater metropolitan area. You may think you smell amazing, but you will actually ruin a coworker’s day just enough to push them over the edge, causing them to pull that bottle of Jack from their office drawer, polish it off, and go on one of those rampages the news talks about every now and then.
And no, you cannot go the Pepe Le Pew route and accept your own stink; the man got the ladies due to a combination of charm and sophistication with just a hint of sexual predator.
httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JEdBndu0YUM
———-
Chris hates anyone or anything which goes against how he feels a sentient being with more than three brain cells should act. He hopes to use his “Encyclopedia Douchebag…ica” as a springboard into becoming a full-fledged, tax exempt religion complete with holidays and greeting cards, mainly so he can steal from its coffers. His hopes are…not that high, knowing that those who needs his guidance most, are unable to read his words… what with the extra flesh from their sloped, ape-like foreheads blinding their eyes from the truth.
When not acting like a complete bastard (which is not very often), Chris writes about all things video game related on his blog iNOOBriated, and his Twitter. He also offers his services as a freelancer for Beckett’s Massive Online Gamer. Yep, he’s a neeeeeerd.