Posted in Lessons by The Books Production Team on September 19, 2008


Sex-Panther-Cologne          I don’t care if they can recite the entirety of Walt Whitman’s 1855 Leaves of Grass verbatim, I’m failing the next fucking student who shows up to my class at 9:00 in the morning smelling like they’ve either broken a bottle of Estee Lauder open over their head or knocked off a Sex Panther truck on the way to class.  I’m serious.

          There are 9 windows in the room where I teach on M/W/F.  This morning, I had all nine of them thrown wide open, despite the fact that it was only 51 degrees outside, because my nostrils couldn’t take it.  “Dr. Wizard, we’re cold!” they cried.  “Can’t we please shut the windows?”  “Oh, you’re cold?” I responded, “I’m so sorry, but see we need these windows open to try provide a little olfactory balance since you decided that life was like an Axe-body spray commercial.”  Boom!  How do you like them apples, class?  Unfortunately for me, the nine open windows still didn’t provide enough fresh air to counteract the putrid cocktail of lavender, jasmine, and bits of real panther with which my students had collectively doused themselves.  Still, it did help a little – and it was fun to watch them shiver.

         Ladies, do you really think you’re going to impress that guy you like in the third row by bathing yourself in chemicals?  You’re not – never once in the history of the world has a man dated a woman he was not attracted to because she smelled nice.  Now, I’m a realist, and I realize that plenty of men have dated women they weren’t attracted to for other reasons, but smell was never one of them.  You know what might actually help your cause out? Taking a shower, not wearing Hello Kitty sweatpants every morning, and offering contributions to class conversation that make you seem likeable and intelligent.  Just an idea.

         And guys, you know how you like to go out on Thursday nights because in college the weekend “sort of” starts on Wednesday?  You see, what makes the weekend “sort of” start  on Wednesday, and not actually start on Wednesday, is that you still have to go to class on Thursday and Friday.  Listen, I applaud the fact that you set your alarm early enough when you stumbled in last night to make it here by nine, but next time, set it 15 minutes earlier so that you can take a shower.  That extra cologne you’re putting on in the morning to help cover up the smell of cigarettes and dance-club sweat just isn’t working.  It smells like a used diaper, filled with Indian food.   


11 Responses

Subscribe to comments with RSS.

  1. MS said, on September 20, 2008 at 8:05 pm

    “The atmosphere is not a perfume . . . . it has no taste of the distillation . . . it is odorless,
    It is for my mouth forever . . . . I am in love with it,
    I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised and naked,
    I am mad for it to be in contact with me.”

    There’s a few lines from the Gospel according to Walt for your ass, 1855 style. Looks like I’m not only getting the A (because I showered instead of soaking in a ‘putrid cocktail of lavender, jasmine, and bits of real panther’ this morning), but I’m also pulling Suzie Cardigan. It’ll be hard to miss us, we’re the ones that put on real clothes before class, and maybe enhanced that ‘fresh shower smell’ with a 1/2 spritz of cologne/perfume one buys at a real store, instead of a 10 second, constant flow from the Axe body spray two-for-one, ‘phoenix-Tsunami-Thunder-Down-Under’ ultra-super-megatron-2000-XXL new secret scent. I know what you’re thinking: “This will enhance my ability to mate.” No Chachi, it won’t. Take if from Walt, love is oderless. Now you can cuddle up with Joni at the football game without melting her alveoli.

  2. MS said, on September 21, 2008 at 3:23 pm

    “It’s Hunting Season: MS Post Part Deux”
    Rereading this post, most notably the following lines:

    “Dr. Wizard, we’re cold!” they cried. “Can’t we please shut the windows?” “Oh, you’re cold?” I responded, “I’m so sorry, but see we need these windows open to try provide a little olfactory balance since you decided that life was like an Axe-body spray commercial.” Boom! How do you like them apples, class?”

    I found myself answering in three very different, but relevant voices. The first from the school of Brevity: I like them apples.
    The second, decidedly more Socratic: I don’t know, Wiz, PhD, are them apples organic?
    And finally: Well, life is kinda like an Axe-body spray commercial. I mean, we can’t all offer insight into the evolution of the market economy in the southern colonies, right? So, what’s a boy to do if he finds himself in, oh let’s say, a Harvard bar (conspicuously deficient of ‘equations and shit’ on the walls) and decides to ‘bust a little move on them Harvard honeys down the other end of the bar, work some magic’ and isn’t prepared to regurgitate Gordon Wood’s account of the pre-revolutionary utopia and the capital forming effects of military mobilization, or plagiarize page 98 of Work in Essex County by Vickers? It’s hunting season in Dr. Wizards 9 am “The Literature of History, The History of Literature” course, and what’s hotter than already being in bed-cloths and smelling like cinnamon? My answer would be, ‘lots of things’: for starters, like Dr. Wizard suggests, “offering contributions to class conversation that make you seem likeable and intelligent.” Now that’s scientifically proven to be 150% more awesome than Hello-Kitty sweatpants 60% of the time. The rub is that while the collegiate youth of America follows a two day work week and a five day weekend (God help us when they start listening to the punk/blues lyrics of the New York Dolls’ “Seven Day Weekend”), the Chinese were busy dumping toxic chemicals scientifically engineered to decrease brain function; cause asthma; inhibit proper sexual function; induce headaches, nausea, and bloody diarrhea into a little black spray can bound for the United States of America with the words “Axe” or “Tag” stamped on the side in hopes of taking over the world one unsuspecting teenager at a time (learn Chinese so you can read those ingredients once they stop printing them in English). So even if you score that date with the cute guy or girl in the third row based on scent alone, you’re in for a night of real fun, compliments of your shower in a can.

  3. drwizard said, on September 21, 2008 at 4:48 pm

    Look – I report the news. And today’s top story in Dr. Wizard’s world reads something like “I love the emergence of the comments section as a repository for unbridled awesomeness.” I want to shout it from the top of a mountain, only I don’t have a mountain, I’ve got this blog, and so I’ll type it out here in the comments section.
    If Dr. Wizard’s Advice ever gets into a virtual bearfight with some yet-to-be-discovered nemesis (like Professor Warlock’s Tips for Undergraduates), then I want MS, Frank, Ghost Dog, and JB on my team – they keep their head on a swivel. Also, I realize this week was a little heavy on the Anchorman references, so I’d like to announce that next week our attention will be turned to Mona Lisa Smile.

  4. Frank said, on September 21, 2008 at 6:58 pm

    …But, why must it always be a Harvard bar? Go Bulldogs!

  5. Carlin said, on September 22, 2008 at 3:26 am

    Can we expand this school of thought to not wear pajama bottoms to class?? We can all tell you just rolled out of bed, but seriously, how long does it really take to throw some jeans and a sweatshirt on?

  6. Mark Christhilf said, on September 23, 2008 at 5:49 pm

    As someone who has seen many a 19 year-old sorority vixen (or hungover jock) saunter into class wearing sleep pants with “PINK” on the ass (or “Abercrombie” on the thigh), I must say that their should be no larger turn-on for a true red-blooded male/female than to see the opposite gender come to class in sleepwear. It is a scientific fact that 60% of males/females like girls/boys who possess extreme levels of self-confidence 100% of the time. And, I contend that wearing sleep pants to class is the ultimate sign of self-confidence. The decision to wear attire like this is a conscious one. In essence, this collegiate student is saying, “I am not even going to try to impress you, yet I know you’re still going to pay attention to me.”. And, obviously, people do. Even in this post where the main focus is cologne, three of the first five comments (60%) have directly or indirectly referenced collegiate sleepwear. To not try and know you’ll get your desired resuls is the epitome of self-confidence. So, by shunning jeans, the wearer of sleepwear is practically guaranteeing he/she will get in your pants. Brilliant!!!

  7. Jeff said, on September 25, 2008 at 9:02 pm

    My theory is that they take an hour to get ready not to look like they got ready. Homeless is the new casual. Then again…nothing is hotter than a dumpy bootie in dirty sweatpants, as long as you smell like you fell in a giant parfume bottle.

  8. drwizard said, on September 26, 2008 at 4:11 pm

    All right…back to the land of the living and I’ve got a couple of responses.

    #1) Frank, I have no idea why it must always be a Harvard Bar. If only Matt Damon and Ben Affleck had grown up in South New Haven instead of South Boston, then “how do you like them apples?” would be forever associated with janitor-geniuses who belittled Michael Bolton clones at Yale, not Harvard. Still, I like your spirit, and will be looking to you to run the Yale branch of Dr. Wizard’s Fight Club in early 2009.

    #2) “Homeless is the new casual” – see, I hadn’t considered that. While my original post was mostly about Sex Panther, the sweatpants debate is an interesting one. Perhaps all these students out there in apparently trashy sleepwear are actually wearing Mugatu’s new “Derelicte” collection.

  9. MS said, on September 27, 2008 at 10:00 pm

    Jeff, you’ve got a point. I was at the mall the other day and, out of curiosity, walked into a store that sells sweat suits. All I can say is, it costs a lot of money to look like a hobo. And if price is a good indicator of ‘in’ fashion (and I think it’s safe to say that it is), then the $190.00 velour, powder-blue XXXXXL sweatsuit is here to stay. However, I’m infinitely more attracted to the girl in a nice pair of jeans, and a Rolling Stones T-Shirt (or Argyle Sweater, I’ll dance that dance), than the overly-confident princess who needs to wear bed cloths with pink on the ass for people to notice her ass. Newsflash, it looks good, we get it. Now, get over yourself. And will somebody open the damn window, SHIT!

  10. funktifiedacoustic said, on September 29, 2008 at 7:19 am

    Mark Christilf,

    I imagine that you are in fact a clothes whore who only truly enjoys two modes of dress: ubercasual (aforementioned sweatpants) and formal business attire.

    This is odd.

    In college you definitely preferred ubercasual as you stared into the gaping maw that was your cereal bowl.

  11. Jan said, on August 17, 2009 at 8:56 pm

    Indian food? I honestly think white peoples’ food smells like vomit.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: