Cologne

Cologne: (n) scented toilet water or aftershave.

Just for the record (and if my vote counts) I firmly believe that all toilet water should be scented. I don’t know what other purpose the water
would have if it was out of its bowl, if it was not scented.

And I, for one, believe human beings are better if they smell good.

That may be because I’ve always been a portly fellow and greatly feared the stereotype of “all fat people stink.”

In other words, I don’t want some cloud of “p.u.” to descend on me in a moment when my deodorant is in retreat, my soap sniff has disappeared and my cologne is totally exhausted.

Without being too graphic, I put cologne everywhere. I don’t know why. There are places it seems unnecessary. In other words, not a normally high-traffic area. However, those regions are notorious for sprouting aromas which are generally deemed unpleasant.

So part of my morning ritual is to “smell up”–so that later on I don’t have to “smell down.”

I’ve been very fortunate. I’ve developed a reputation for nose approval.

I’m sure I’ve overdone it. For instance, folks should not be able to “smell you coming,” yet I have had people identify me from another room, knowing I was present long before they eyeballed me.

Oops.

I also mix fragrances of cologne–once again, depending on the different parts of the body, a splash may work somewhere and more expensive stuff to don the face.

I must acknowledge at this point that I have already overworked this subject. Possibly I lost your attention a couple of paragraphs ago.

You may think I am paranoid about any type of normal human body odor. You would be correct.

I am not trying to evangelize my obsession with cologne. I have met people who hate it, and some who even insist they are allergic.

But until future notice, I will be an island of fragrance instead of a land of “stinky poo.”

 

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Coat

Coat: (n) an outer garment worn for warmth

Is it possible I was allergic? No–that’s not the word.

I certainly couldn’t stand to have a coat on until… well, very recently.

All through my teen years, my mother insisted I wear one to school, and I always removed it within ten feet from the door of our home, convinced, I think, that I would break out in a rash if I continued to wear it.

I don’t know whether it was a case of macho, or whether there was a part of me that believed that only wimps and Mama’s boys wore such outer protection.

In the winter months in Ohio, I went with short sleeves.

I once found a sweater I liked for a while–but then my older brother claimed it as his own and I never saw it again.

There was something powerful about remaining chilly. Even as a man, in the wintertime I would find a sunshiny day and play tennis in shorts and a tank top.

I always loved the question, “Aren’t you cold?”

Hell, no. I’m hot, Mama.

I guess that was the thing. I suppose I was trying to communicate to the females around me that I was a furnace. A blazing fire of love.

Or maybe it wasn’t that at all.

Maybe I hated the confinement. Because I was chubby, coats always fit me like a straight jacket–especially if I zipped them up. They were so tight I felt the garment was holding my organs in.

But of late I have changed my mind. The feeling of warmth coming on your skin, suddenly protecting it from chill and frost–it’s very comforting.

I enjoy it.

But, while wearing a coat, I still feel like Wimpy Boy Billy.

 

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Aspirin

Aspirin: (n) a tablet containing aspirin.dictionary with letter A

Since life can sometimes be a headache and such discomfort is a real pain…well, in the head, I have occasionally pursued the consumption and absorption of aspirin into my body to try to alleviate the malady.

Sometimes it has worked. And when it has, it nearly seems to be a “Jesus-moment-of-miracle-healing-the-blind-man.”

Then there are times when the pain is so severe–such as an abscessed tooth–that the aspirin doesn’t do much except to dull the agony and give you a minor LSD trip.

Also the problem with aspirin is that it can make your stomach bleed.

Several years ago, when I was younger than I am now (which is customary) I went through an eight-day period when I wasn’t getting much sleep and was achy, so I started popping aspirin like they were Skittles. A few days later, I started getting light-headed, weak and my vision was impaired to the point that I couldn’t stand to be in bright lights. My heart raced.

So I finally cruised off to the hospital–to discover that I had lost a lot of blood. The volume was so low that they feared I had some form of cancer. I explained that I had been taking a lot of aspirin, but they were convinced there was more to it than that. But after a very brief stay, I got better.

They examined all of my internal stuff and decided that I had just taken too much aspirin, and nearly used up all my blood.

So since that day, I have told people that I am allergic to aspirin. I’m probably not.

I am probably the typical human being who is, and always will be, allergic to way too much of a good thing.

 

 

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Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) —  J.R. Practix

Allergy

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Allergy: (n) a damaging immune response by the body to a substance, often pollen, fur, a particular food, or dust, to which it has become hypersensitive

I may be allergic to nature.

Well, not exactly. It’s more that I’m allergic to many products that people insist are ‘organic’ or ‘natural.’

Recently at a motel they offered what they refered to as “green” soap. It had the magical words of this millenium inscribed on its wrapper: “all organic ingredients.”

It made me itch.

Several years ago, a friend thought she was doing me a big favor by purchasing me a three-month supply of Herbalife. She wanted to help me lose weight the “natural way.” All it did for me was create a rash on my bum and turn my pee green.

I became curious about what causes me to react so strongly against these products which are meant to be healthy. So I looked up on the Internet the elements that make up these magical potions. In avoiding the use of preservatives or man-made chemicals, they insert emollients to hold the substance together, and these are not necessarily healthy in themselves.

For instance, I discovered that mangoes are related to poison ivy. Unfortunately, uncovering this trifle of data now makes me itch whenever I get around the fruit, even in a grocery store.

You see, that’s another problem with an allergy. Even if you sprout a symptom, people who think they are perpetually healthy or the same type who believe their farts don’t smell, will ridicule you or tell you that it’s “all in your head.”

It reminds me of the man who kept telling everyone he was sick–until he finally died. Every time he complained they told him it was all in his head. When they did the autopsy they found a tumor in his brain.

They were right.

I think the least we can do is give folks a chance to believe they are actually suffering from some malady instead of merely seeking attention and asking for their itch to be scratched.

I don’t know if I have any permanent allergies. The last time I took penicillin I did break out in hives, so I do mention that. Pure aspirin sometimes does odd things to me.

But every once in a while I get one of those hives or skin rashes, and I know there’s some sort of imbalance or natural product I’ve stumbled upon, which has inserted the “oil of cactus” into its ingredients … to advertise its earth-friendliness.

 

Acetaminophen

by J. R. Practix

Acetaminophen: (n.) an analgesic drug used to treat headaches, arthritis, etc., and also to reduce fever, often as an alternative to aspirin. Proprietary names include Tylenol.

You’re not supposed to use a lot of aspirin. I didn’t know that. It makes your stomach bleed. Perhaps it’s an old wives’ tale, but they say that every aspirin causes your stomach to secrete one teaspoon of blood. Makes you wonder how many old wives died of blood seepage.

I learned this the hard way–not about old wives, but about aspirin.

I took three young men into my life who were in the middle of a custody battle with their abusive biological father. On one of his visitation weekends, he snatched the young men and hid them out like they were pretending to be the Hole in the Wall Gang.

I was distressed. I couldn’t sleep. The lack of sleep made me ache all over as I actively pursued finding my new young friends. I began to eat aspirin like they were popping out of a Pez dispenser.

About two weeks later, I was walking from my bathroom to my bedroom when the surroundings began to shake and shimmer like I was in an earthquake. I barely made it to my bed, to grab my mattress, before I fell to the ground.

Well, long story short, it turned out I had one of those stomach bleeds due to overuse of aspirin. It was not a sickness unto death–just one brought on by stupidity.

But since then, I have had to write on medical forms that I am allergic to aspirin, although I probably am not. Mostly, I discovered that I was allergic to stupidity.

Since then I have been taking acetaminophen for pain, weariness and aches. Honestly, I’m not so sure the product works as well as aspirin. I would refer to it as “aspirin light.” Or decaffeinated aspirin.

But it does help a little, and honestly, I was not particularly fond of my tummy bleed. So I will continue to take that product, even though, amazingly enough, it turns my poop green.

I do realize that at this point, that I have shared too much information. But if you don’t put personal notes into a blog every once in a while, it becomes stale and pedantic.

So hoping that you remember more about acetaminophen than my poop, I will close for now.