I Swear, It’s Gonna Happen

It happened again tonight. Some idiot wearing at least a bottle and a half of cologne simply *had* to stand in my immediate vicinity (shoulder-to-shoulder). I wanted to puke — I almost did.

I couldn’t breathe.

Seriously: my chest started tightening up, painfully, almost cramping; my breathing became labored and short; my stomach turned inside-out; I got real dizzy real fast; I almost passed out.

And I came seriously close to vomiting.

Next time (and this is fair warning to you guys who think that cologne is “cool”), I will puke — all over the guy wearing the cologne. It serves them right: be offensive to people who are allergic to the stuff and get your clothes ruined. And why not? The Old Testament says: “an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,” right?

Make me sick, cost me my dinner, ruin my night, and I’ll ruin your outfit — regardless of how much it cost.

Now, to make this legal and legit:

Be it hereby publicly known: People (men or women): if you wear an excessive amount of perfume or cologne in my presence (whether you know me or not, or are aware of this statement or not), please be advised that I am allergic to your potions, and they make me gravely ill. Should I become gravely ill in your presence, and end up regurgitating on you and your clothes, I AM NOT LEGALLY RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY AND ALL LOSSES INCURRED BY YOUR STUPIDITY. I will try to give fair warning, but this will not always be possible. If, all of a sudden, I puke on you, and you are wearing cologne, hey: you made me sick, OK, pal? You made me sick — you pay for it.

I didn’t choose this.

You make me sick — you clean up the mess, OK?

Now I will repeat:

The Rule of Thumb for perfume and/or cologne:
wear only enough that your girlfriend (or boyfriend) can smell it only when they hug you.

‘Nuff said.

(Watch for the first “puke post” — coming soon to a theater near you!)

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