Was reviewing my first experience with the Veg on this very forum, many years ago....
My replacement bottle of Veg arrived today, and to my relief did not contain cat pee. It contained, as far as I could tell, my great grandmother's parlor. Perhaps with my great grandmother in it. As I opened the bottle, being plastic, a small fountaining effect occurred. So my hands now smell like great Gramma. And my shoes. And my office. For those of you who have read The Miller's Tale, those ablutions failed. Soap will not remove it. Alcohol will not remove it. It cannot be reasoned with, it cannot be intimidated, it cannot be concealed. I received my Geo. F. Trumper's Eucris EDT in the same package, so I sprinkled some of that on. Human speech cannot describe the resulting olfactory cacophony; the Veg brooks no rivals. The Veg is definitely a scent from the Romantic Era, when parfum was developed to carpet-bomb every other sensory input within a kilometer radius, to cover and completely mask blood, urine, feces, gunsmoke, wood smoke, horse sweat and hog entrails. It is the honey badger of scents. It is not to be trifled with. So I may have been chosen, but not in a good way. It's the scary squirrel that sidles up to you in the park and won't leave. It's the peculiar shadow on the wood-paneled wall you just noticed, that wasn't there a minute ago. It's the creak in the floor downstairs you've never heard before in the wee hours. Beware the Veg.
