Updated: 22/7/2003; 10:25:21 PM.
Andrew's Cellar
random mutterings on technology, business and life's passions
        

Sunday, 16 March 2003

From Boing Boing:

Boy-sweat makes women happy. Research shows that male sweat puts women in a good mood.

In a study to be published in the journal Biology of Reproduction, researchers collected samples from the underarms of men who refrained from using deodorant for four weeks. The extracts were then blended and applied to the upper lips of 18 women, aged 25 to 45.

The women rated their moods on a fixed scale for a period of six hours. The findings suggested something in the perspiration brightened their moods and helped them feel less tense.

Blood analyses also showed a rise in levels of the reproductive luteinizing hormone that typically surge before ovulation.

Yup, I can competely relate to that one. How many times have the various women in my life happily said things like, "You should use deodorant; you stink!"

So now of course I don't dare get dressed without rolling on. Except for Friday: I was in a hurry and I forgot. In a desperate panic that I'd be the subject of oprobrium and ridicule all day, I stopped at a convenience store on the way to work. The store had 2 brands on offer: the first is the subject of a TV advert that sees the young chap wearing it seduced in the lift (US - elevator). I figured this would only give my friends at work greater ammunition to bring me down for their amusement. I bought the other brand. And it stank (stunk?). Ugh! It was cloying and sweet; I spent the better part of the day nauseated by my own armpits. And to top it all, my dear wife said, "But the other brand smells really nice." Bah!

Fine. I shall buy that brand, and then I shall spend the day riding up and down in the lift. We shall see.


10:05:15 PM    comment []

but this is


3:16:06 PM    comment []

Something I've had to learn to accept about myself is that, well, not to put to fine a point on it, I'm a twit. Really. I offend a small number of people on my journey through life, but I cause most people to either laugh or shake their heads in wonder

I don't forget things; I just do profoundly, bizarrely silly things. They have no lasting consequence, beyond causing in me a kind of sadness because I'll have to live with this for the rest of my life.

What do I mean? Here's a sample:

  • 3 days' back, I bit my lip right through eating a piece of melon; my teeth met in the middle.
  • Last week, I bit my own finger while eating my morning toast.
  • Most weeks, I bite my own mouth, lips, even the webby bit under my tongue, while chewing gum
  • Last year, I skewered my lip while eating a satay stick; my lip bled profusely after I pulled the skewer out.
  • Last year, a candle caught fire at home and instead of smothering it, I picked it up with oven gloves and ran to the kitchen. It burned my hands through the gloves and I threw it towards the kitchen. I took me 2 hours' scrubbing to get the burnt wax off the floor, the cupboards... The carpet was wrecked.
  • A couple of years' back, I sawed my arm with a bush saw while pruning a tree.
  • 3 years back, I was pushing my son's little wheelbarrow when it hit a rut, stopped dead, and I went right over the top and landed in a heap.
  • 5 years' back, I dropped a hand-held electric blender in a sink full of water. I reached in to pick it up, without first turning it off. It hurt.
  • 5 years' back, I turned on the washing machine. The top panel is off the machine to let it fit under the laundry bench, which our builders made too low. My fingers went over the edge, inside the machine, and made contact with the power terminals on the switch. I shrieked, my arm went numb and hung uselessly by my side. My wife looked on in bafflement and concern.
  • 16 years' back, I tried to light a fire in the walkers' day hut at Cradle Mountain in Tasmania. Frustrated with the wet wood, I resorted to the bottle of methylated spirits, which promptly caught fire and spilled, burning, over a large area of floor. I did manage to put it out.
  • 19 years' back, riding my motorcycle home, and having just spent an hour fixing a puncture, I stopped at a set of lights. The people in the car next to me asked for directions. "Just follow me.", I said, then roared off, tipped it into the corner -- having completely forgotten about all the soap over the tyre from when I changed it, not to mention the tyre still being cold -- and promptly dropped the bike. No damage, except to my pride.
I could go on, but I think you get the flavour. There's more, lots more, and I haven't even started on the social and personal gaffes that cause me to cry out loud when I randomly recall them.

It's not easy being me.


12:16:39 AM    comment []

© Copyright 2003 Andrew Barnett.
 
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