It’s pretty well documented that I’m the scent guy on staff. I mean, being Hispanic and all I embrace the shit out of the abusive cologne wizard stereotype. Honestly, my personality sucks, I’m not good looking and I consistently show symptoms of Asperger's syndrome, which is a recipe for being a 21-year-old face melting leper to most women. How do I level the playing field? Commes des Garcons Amazingreen, that’s how. Every time I say something wildly inappropriate to a woman and she’s just about to walk away after punching me in the dick, the scent just reels her big ass (read: Hispanic) back in. I seriously don’t even understand it. Females can’t seem to get enough of this shit. I throw this on before a night on the town KNOWING I’m going to say something extremely fucked up with this as my safety net. It smells like the little baby Jesus wrapped in a Cucinelli scarf being carried by Ryan Gosling as he walks his new puppy. Or, at least, that’s how I’d imagine men smell in the sexual fantasies of today's women. Grab yourself a bottle from Epaulet for $125 and go pick up some girls with big ol' butts.
