No Such Thing as TMI, Part 2

I’m kind of a sweaty monster.

I always have been. When I get hot…which is often, because of the…you know, the extry insulation…because I’m a little bit of a chubster…

Anyhow, when I exercise or get nervous or even just experience a day in Durham between March 1 and December 1, beads of sweat pop out on my upper lip and my forehead develops a sheen and pretty soon I’ve got pit-stains the size of pancakes. Shortly thereafter I’m on the train to Stankonia.

I should say, I used to get pit-stains. And I used to visit Stankonia.

You see, I tried all the different underarm products:

The natural deodorants. What a crock. That shit deodorizes about as well as crossing your fingers and hoping you don't stink.
The ones so effective you could supposedly skip a day. Lies.
The ones that are strong enough for a man but made for a woman. Not for this woman, apparently.
The ones that are actually made for a man. But the cologne smell was so strong, I would find myself hearing Daddy Yankee songs and looking around for the guy following me*.

So about two years ago, I did some research. On the interwebz. Which is magical in its offerings. And I found

Klima. Works like a goddamn dream.

How does it work? Remember how that lady died in Goldfinger?

She asphyxiated from being painted gold.

That was baloney—you can’t die from asphyxiation if you can still get air in through your mouth and/or nose…where air usually goes—but you can block pores by painting the skin, or in my case, spraying a little ethyl alcohol cocktail on it.

The negative: (1) It’s one million dollars a bottle. (2) If you spray it on before your underarms are completely dry, it’ll itch like crazy. And (3) it, like many antiperspirants, is chock-full of aluminum, and I hear that when they autopsy Alzheimer’s patients’ brains, they’re just lousy with the stuff.

So basically I’m spraying Alzheimer’s directly into my armpits.

But, hey, no pit-stains! No stank!

*Just so we’re clear, I’m pro-Latino dudes. I nearly married one. But many of them really like their Old Spice**.

**Just so we’re clear, I’m also pro-Old Spice. I like a man who smells good. Just not bathed in it so that the inside of my nostrils feel all burny.

9 thoughts on “No Such Thing as TMI, Part 2”

  1. you are setting yourself up for disaster, my friend.
    try crystal rock. not an antiperspirant but a good deodorant. and no aluminum.
    shave or use aluminum, but please, not both. you are pouring poison right into tiny open wounds.
    tmi?

  2. OMG hilarious. Mostly because I am so with you on this. I have also tried all the “Clinical Strength” varieties, which are equally ineffective at 4x the cost.
    Off to order me some aerosolized Alzheimer’s right now. Thanks for the tip!!

  3. I started using liquid Tom’s but I’m not sure if it works.
    Also like the salt crystal, but if you man-groom and then apply, shit burns (no such thing as TMI).

  4. Margo, you’re probably right, but I don’t shave…Want a little more TMI? I use one of those medieval torture devices that rip your hair out at the root, which I only have to do every few weeks. So maybe I’m not mainlining Alzheimer’s?

    Kristen, good luck!

    Oh, I’ve done the research, Granddude.

    Phil, I’ll be sure to sniff you next time I see you at the gym.

  5. very funny blog..love it. canadian weather won’t help..i sweat when applying liquid foundation! it also isn’t because you are fluffy…my mom lost her fluffiness and still would have her head sweating at times in her eighties. My nephew is not fluffy and we both love dancing and at weddings etc. the sweatheads compare wetness..most people think we may have been out in the rain. i don’t have the huge pit stain problem but the head sweat has no solutions. i think i saw a blurb on the Doctors where you can get surgery for the pit problem but that’s seems a bit drastic. I guess the mainliner alzheimer’s continues. you don’t cook in those old aloomineum roasters and pots .

  6. You could be right, Norma. I may just have a gift for sweating.

    Joe, I’m absolutely sure that your sweat smells like ammo and venison and beat-downs.

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