Paco Rabanne 1 million:
From your ad I would’ve thought
You’re butch and young and streamlined,
But you’re more the zaftig sort.
I don’t like Aedes de Venustas Eau de Parfum
that much. You probably don’t agree
But it strikes me as a dank incense
and leaves me shiveringly.
Those round French vowels, so very nice.
But you’re one not yet tested:
Too much rose and too much price.
Chanel Beige takes to the stage
And I know what my problem is –
It’s chic and cut-glass, a class pain-in-the-arse
And I just don’t get that biz.
Dior Homme Sport is unrelated
To its sibling Dior Homme
The latter’s iris is replaced
by a citrus rom-pom-pom.
El Attarine – a luminescent dream
Is how you started out.
But now the more I sniff you,
Dirty musk is all you shout.
Gaiac 10 may be too slight
To command quite all that trouble
To obtain it. But if more available,
I’d get it at the double.
Gucci by Gucci pour Homme:
Sniffed and not outstanding.
But James Franco – hubba hubba!
A fine choice in their branding.
Power of flower.
Juice nearly a wower.
Oh Duchaufour! what’s happening?
You’ve gone all weird aquatic,
With Mag Romana and Fleur de Liane
I’m seriously unerotic.
Tom Ford White Patchouli:
The pornmeister likes his oxymoron.
And who’d’ve thunk that this bland pap
Is where he stopped getting his whore on?
My excuse? A lousy cold that started mild and has had me in bed for three days straight. And it’s not even pleasant company. Please, do better below.