or
The Gent of Tory Descent vs The Mens Scent now from the Orient ....
I apologize or the length, I woke up in a babbling mood this morning.
Some of you read my less than epic battle with Aqua Velva, which resulted in my first defeat in the league of Vintage scents:
http://badgerandblade.com/vb/showthread.php?t=154468
Having been humbled by the Musky Giant, I went back to training with fervor.
I was blindly training for an unknown opponent, until my travels took me into a Family Dollar store. As I perused the shelves, I heard someone calling my name .. Hey Whiskercut, ya pansy, yeah you!!! I turn and there he was, Family Dollar Spice Club. I heard what Velva did to you. You better me glad it wasnt me, I wouldve bodied you in 3. None of that going the distance BS!
(Now this isnt the first time Ive a run in with FDSC. A month prior, he had made similar remarks in front of my wife, and it was almost on right there in the aisle, but my wife took one sniff and informed me that I should leave the old man alone and that he probably would fight dirty anyway. On the way out, he goosed my wifes bum and made a comment about liking fresh melons in the summer. I walked away, but a man never forgets .)
Well, my wife wasnt around this time, and I could tell him what I really thought. My grandpa whopped you in the 40s when you were still made by Shulton! Youre nothing but a has been living in a plastic bottle! I didnt even give him a chance to rebut, and snatch him by the neck and drug him to the counter. $2 later, a date had been set with my next opponent (Im pretty sure he put sugar in the gas tank of my car late that night, because its hasnt ran since).
Now despite my boastful stance, I was a bit nervous on the inside. What if the old man still had some tricks up his sleeve? What if experience really could triumph youth? What if he leaves me smelling like paprika and burnt black pepper? Should I buy a glass bottle first? I brushed it aside and forged ahead.
Fight day arrives and I sneak out of bed before my wife could protest. I showered and shaved, then entered the ring. I splashed some on and right away knew this was going to be a long day. The alcohol smell perceived in the bottle attacked all my weak spots immediately. My face was afire and he was grinnin from ear-to-ear. I shook it off just in time to think, perhaps I should have tackled the P&G version first. Then he really went after me. After a few easy jabs of powder to make me think he had no punching power, he delivered an uppercut of spice that Im pretty sure dislocated my sinuses. At this point, Im punch drunk and stumble to the canvas. The ref steps in for a standing 8 count.
As he rattles the numbers off, my head clears and I realize my injuries arent that bad. As a matter of fact, Im feeling pretty good about my chances. If thats the hardest he can hit, then I might be able to do this. The spice and powder are blending nicely and Im kinda getting the wind back in my sails. Im on my feet shuffling and grinning when the ref gets to 6 and for the first time, FDSC smile falters just a little bit. Nevertheless, he spit tobacco on my shoe, and when I looked down he tweeked my nipple.
Ref clears off my gloves and I go to work . Theres no method to my madness, Im wildly swinging trying to knock of some of the spice hes throwin at me. He old and grizzled and knows every trick in the book. (Im pretty sure this is the guy who trained Tyson to bite a mans ear). He knows this is foreign territory for a guy who usually wears metro scents and uses it to his full advantage. I never faltered again and after a few rounds, it became apparent that this was the immoveable object vs. the unstoppable force. We took everything we could throw at each other, but neither would fall. When the bell for the 15th sounded, we both hugged it out. We had both gained a mutual respect for each other (he did kick my shin while we hugged, but I didnt take it personal. Thats just how he rolls.). It went to the scorecards. I felt I had him beat, but ultimately it was up to the judges.
The judges came back (Actual judging went like this. I liked it and thought it worked on me. I ask the wife for her opinion and her response was, Im not a big fan of spice smells.) it was declared a draw. FDSC & I didnt think this was an adequate decision so we reschedule and immediate rematch. He parting words to me were, You better bring the all dirty stuff next time, cause this old man is just getting started. Im getting better with age. He gave me an Indian burn on my arm and a wet whilly in my ear and whistled his way out of the building.
True to his word, during our next match, he showed up with powder to blow in my eye and extra alcohol to pour in my wounds. In the end, I did the only thing I could do. I hit him below the belt towards the end of the 1st and when he wasnt looking, I put 20 drops of lime in his water bottle. He never really recovered after that, but still made it the full 15 rounds. It went to the judges . Wife said mmm..you smell good. VICTORY IS MINE!!!
FDSC smiled at me knowingly and nodded as he exited the ring. He had been bested at his own game, but we both knew this battle was far from over. He stole my car keys from the locker room, and put ICY HOT in my boxers. The next time I have an extra $2 laying around, we will go toe-to-toe again . And love every minute of it!!!!
I apologize or the length, I woke up in a babbling mood this morning.
Some of you read my less than epic battle with Aqua Velva, which resulted in my first defeat in the league of Vintage scents:
http://badgerandblade.com/vb/showthread.php?t=154468
Having been humbled by the Musky Giant, I went back to training with fervor.
I was blindly training for an unknown opponent, until my travels took me into a Family Dollar store. As I perused the shelves, I heard someone calling my name .. Hey Whiskercut, ya pansy, yeah you!!! I turn and there he was, Family Dollar Spice Club. I heard what Velva did to you. You better me glad it wasnt me, I wouldve bodied you in 3. None of that going the distance BS!
(Now this isnt the first time Ive a run in with FDSC. A month prior, he had made similar remarks in front of my wife, and it was almost on right there in the aisle, but my wife took one sniff and informed me that I should leave the old man alone and that he probably would fight dirty anyway. On the way out, he goosed my wifes bum and made a comment about liking fresh melons in the summer. I walked away, but a man never forgets .)
Well, my wife wasnt around this time, and I could tell him what I really thought. My grandpa whopped you in the 40s when you were still made by Shulton! Youre nothing but a has been living in a plastic bottle! I didnt even give him a chance to rebut, and snatch him by the neck and drug him to the counter. $2 later, a date had been set with my next opponent (Im pretty sure he put sugar in the gas tank of my car late that night, because its hasnt ran since).
Now despite my boastful stance, I was a bit nervous on the inside. What if the old man still had some tricks up his sleeve? What if experience really could triumph youth? What if he leaves me smelling like paprika and burnt black pepper? Should I buy a glass bottle first? I brushed it aside and forged ahead.
Fight day arrives and I sneak out of bed before my wife could protest. I showered and shaved, then entered the ring. I splashed some on and right away knew this was going to be a long day. The alcohol smell perceived in the bottle attacked all my weak spots immediately. My face was afire and he was grinnin from ear-to-ear. I shook it off just in time to think, perhaps I should have tackled the P&G version first. Then he really went after me. After a few easy jabs of powder to make me think he had no punching power, he delivered an uppercut of spice that Im pretty sure dislocated my sinuses. At this point, Im punch drunk and stumble to the canvas. The ref steps in for a standing 8 count.
As he rattles the numbers off, my head clears and I realize my injuries arent that bad. As a matter of fact, Im feeling pretty good about my chances. If thats the hardest he can hit, then I might be able to do this. The spice and powder are blending nicely and Im kinda getting the wind back in my sails. Im on my feet shuffling and grinning when the ref gets to 6 and for the first time, FDSC smile falters just a little bit. Nevertheless, he spit tobacco on my shoe, and when I looked down he tweeked my nipple.
Ref clears off my gloves and I go to work . Theres no method to my madness, Im wildly swinging trying to knock of some of the spice hes throwin at me. He old and grizzled and knows every trick in the book. (Im pretty sure this is the guy who trained Tyson to bite a mans ear). He knows this is foreign territory for a guy who usually wears metro scents and uses it to his full advantage. I never faltered again and after a few rounds, it became apparent that this was the immoveable object vs. the unstoppable force. We took everything we could throw at each other, but neither would fall. When the bell for the 15th sounded, we both hugged it out. We had both gained a mutual respect for each other (he did kick my shin while we hugged, but I didnt take it personal. Thats just how he rolls.). It went to the scorecards. I felt I had him beat, but ultimately it was up to the judges.
The judges came back (Actual judging went like this. I liked it and thought it worked on me. I ask the wife for her opinion and her response was, Im not a big fan of spice smells.) it was declared a draw. FDSC & I didnt think this was an adequate decision so we reschedule and immediate rematch. He parting words to me were, You better bring the all dirty stuff next time, cause this old man is just getting started. Im getting better with age. He gave me an Indian burn on my arm and a wet whilly in my ear and whistled his way out of the building.
True to his word, during our next match, he showed up with powder to blow in my eye and extra alcohol to pour in my wounds. In the end, I did the only thing I could do. I hit him below the belt towards the end of the 1st and when he wasnt looking, I put 20 drops of lime in his water bottle. He never really recovered after that, but still made it the full 15 rounds. It went to the judges . Wife said mmm..you smell good. VICTORY IS MINE!!!
FDSC smiled at me knowingly and nodded as he exited the ring. He had been bested at his own game, but we both knew this battle was far from over. He stole my car keys from the locker room, and put ICY HOT in my boxers. The next time I have an extra $2 laying around, we will go toe-to-toe again . And love every minute of it!!!!
.... but yeah, if you run it through Babelfish that's how it would loosely translate. 
Hobby Lobby carries some oils, as does Michaels, if you have either in your area. If not, you can always try here:
