by Peter Schwartz
When I was twelve I decided drinking cologne would be a good idea. See, it was the eighties and it was easy to feel shallow so one night I thought, my insides are what matter most, or something like that, and chugged a five ounce bottle of Old Spice. It tasted poisonous but even at that age I knew self-improvement always carried a price. Because it was well after midnight, I resisted waking up my parents. Alone in my bathroom I threw up many times, my only consolation thinking how disgusting the insides of my fellow classmates must smell. They were putrid animals and I was a civilized gentleman with delightfully fragrant organs.
6S
Peter Schwartz has more styles than a Natal Midlands Dwarf Chameleon. He's been published in Arsenic Lobster, Epicenters, Media Cake, 5 Trope, Verdad, and VOX. He's currently working on his fourth chapbook, "Postcards to the Sun." See the extent of his shenanigans here.
20081005
Old Spice
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)

5 comments:
Brilliant. Simply brilliant.
Twelve-year-olds should not be left alone for one second! I am happy that you lived through your little experiment in "self-improvement."
I love "delightfully fragrant organs."
This is appallingly endearing.
-Mercedes
Marry me, Mercedes. Why? Because you put the words "appallingly" and "endearing" together. Haha, your comment really made me laugh.
Thanks.
Post a Comment