Reminds me of my grandpa!! Damn good aftershave though. Finally found myself an easy to acquire mentholated AS with a good price, and a nice dry down.
ASAD is in full swing now thanks to the AV.
I am on board with AV as of last week. I was on the fence about the scent but decided its classic old school barbershop to me. At least thats what I am telling myself.
You say that like it's a bad thing.The scent will hang around all day if I don't.
Aqua Velva, the Tabac of after shaves!
Isn't Tabac the Tabac of after shaves?
Quite. Aqua Velva is actually the Proraso of...wait, that doesn't work either. Damn, this is hard.
Aqua Velva is the silver haired bossman that you have over for dinner, who sticks his hand up your wife's dress while you're in the kitchen getting another bottle of wine of the aftershave world.
(Was that a basenotesy enough description for you Horatio? )
You're getting warmer, but you're not quite there yet, since I can actually understand what you mean. Let's see now...
Aqua Velva's breeze blows across my face like a Himalayan wind rattles through a shanty town on the edge of the abyss. Once lost and desolate, I now find my muse in a blue bottle that keeps no secrets and tells no lies. Its truth is that of the everyman: sweat of the brow, calloused hands and feet, skidmarked undershorts, and hemorrhoidal bowel movements. Like the North Star to a wayward gold miner lost at night, far from home, hunted by wolves and parched by thirst, Aqua Velva's scrumtrulescence guides me, chides me, rides me, wines me, dines me, and sixty-nines me. Welcome, old friend, to the fold. At peace, now, am I.
Oh, I almost forgot...It smells Monday in a way that makes Rive Gauche look like a drag queen on stilettos.
You're getting warmer, but you're not quite there yet, since I can actually understand what you mean. Let's see now...
Aqua Velva's breeze blows across my face like a Himalayan wind rattles through a shanty town on the edge of the abyss. Once lost and desolate, I now find my muse in a blue bottle that keeps no secrets and tells no lies. Its truth is that of the everyman: sweat of the brow, calloused hands and feet, skidmarked undershorts, and hemorrhoidal bowel movements. Like the North Star to a wayward gold miner lost at night, far from home, hunted by wolves and parched by thirst, Aqua Velva's scrumtrulescence guides me, chides me, rides me, wines me, dines me, and sixty-nines me. Welcome, old friend, to the fold. At peace, now, am I.
Oh, I almost forgot...It smells Monday in a way that makes Rive Gauche look like a drag queen on stilettos.
You're getting warmer, but you're not quite there yet, since I can actually understand what you mean. Let's see now...
Aqua Velva's breeze blows across my face like a Himalayan wind rattles through a shanty town on the edge of the abyss. Once lost and desolate, I now find my muse in a blue bottle that keeps no secrets and tells no lies. Its truth is that of the everyman: sweat of the brow, calloused hands and feet, skidmarked undershorts, and hemorrhoidal bowel movements. Like the North Star to a wayward gold miner lost at night, far from home, hunted by wolves and parched by thirst, Aqua Velva's scrumtrulescence guides me, chides me, rides me, wines me, dines me, and sixty-nines me. Welcome, old friend, to the fold. At peace, now, am I.
Oh, I almost forgot...It smells Monday in a way that makes Rive Gauche look like a drag queen on stilettos.
You're getting warmer, but you're not quite there yet, since I can actually understand what you mean. Let's see now...
Aqua Velva's breeze blows across my face like a Himalayan wind rattles through a shanty town on the edge of the abyss. Once lost and desolate, I now find my muse in a blue bottle that keeps no secrets and tells no lies. Its truth is that of the everyman: sweat of the brow, calloused hands and feet, skidmarked undershorts, and hemorrhoidal bowel movements. Like the North Star to a wayward gold miner lost at night, far from home, hunted by wolves and parched by thirst, Aqua Velva's scrumtrulescence guides me, chides me, rides me, wines me, dines me, and sixty-nines me. Welcome, old friend, to the fold. At peace, now, am I.
Oh, I almost forgot...It smells Monday in a way that makes Rive Gauche look like a drag queen on stilettos.
Isn't Tabac the Tabac of after shaves?