A Plea for Colognsanity

Your bottle of cheap and/or horrid smelling cologne is not substitute for the cleansing properties of water. Please do not wash your hands/face/entire body in the stuff. Honestly, and I think I speak for everyone in the room, you're killing us. I'd rather go through tear gas training in the marines than have to smell whatever that putrid liquid you're rubbing all over yourself is. I think the mustard gas of world war one must have been sweeter smelling. At least had the decency to kill you after some period of time instead of subjecting you to endless agonizing torture that only ends when the hammer of the gun is released.

I liked my nose hairs to a point. They haven't overgrown their bounds and were doing their god given job, protecting my nasal passages from dust and germs. Why did you take them away from me? Why did you feel the need to light them on fire with your stench and do a tribal Indian dance around them screaming, death to the follicle! Leave my noise alone, asshole, or I'm bring a can of gasoline with me next time.

An Irish showers, not to be confused with a golden shower, is one thing, which I can't deny I've employed on more than a few occasions, but let's practice a little moderation, shall we. Water down the cologne if you don't think you'll be able to control yourself once that top pops. Or better yet, we'll fill the bottle with water or liquid fire, to cure your of your disgusting disease.

I feel that maybe you an unable to recognize when you've gone overboard so here are a few telltale signs that you've fallen into the grip of the evil stench junkies: 1) You can taste the cologne in the air, though you may already be immune because you've been drinking it for years, 2) Your eyes are stinging like someone just pissed in them, 3) Everyone around seems to be sleeping (They're really passed out or have asphyxiated), 4) Your feet no longer are touching the ground as you are floating on a cloud of saturated funk. There, of course, are others but the best thing is to check yourself into rehab. You're addicted and you need the help that only a professional counselor can provide.

Take pity on the rest of humanity. When we all get our own planets you can do whatever your want. But, since the rest of us have to live in close proximity to you, do us a favor and put the bottle down or we may have to raise the gun. I'll fight for the freedom of my noise if I have to, so don't back me into a corner. I'm like a ravenously insane Tasmanian devil when I feel trapped. I'm sorry Jim. Rest in peace my brother.