On my left wrist I have Madame by the squeezer-of-tits-into-cones fashion designer Jean Paul Goultier, on my right Tokyo from famous-piece-of-shit Paris Hilton. One must have an advanced nose to pick up on the subtleties of notes and structure that these classics of our modern times are imbued with, but one seems a little more appropriate for passing out in the yard with McDonalds fast food garbage strewn about, while the other is just slightly more tuned for chugging Kir Royales at a baby shower. On my left, the wafting fizziness would be the ideal companion for when you're in the mood to use grape vining as your only mode of conveyance for the day and on my right, the syrupy fruit cocktail would be the perfect addition to screeching into a cracked iPhone 3G with one flip flop missing after a Cubs game. While the lightness and luminosity of the left suggests a hastily delivered finger blast behind an Arby's over an overturned bucket of Horsey Sauce, the right's sensual yet tenacious sillage would be perfect for looking out the window sneering like Billy Idol and shaking your right tit vigorously at the garbage man. On my right, the sensual billow of cherry blossom and citrus is for doing what feels good, in this case grinding one out on a shopping cart going up the escalator at Target, meanwhile the left has the elegant billowing presence perfect for wearing a La Perla bra with one strap ripped off from a cock fight and then later pooping the bed.
Both class acts, and are priced to move. (one of the labels is "favorites" and that goes to Madame: if you want a fun day drinkin' companion, she's a great go-to... Tokyo is just garbage)
but which one is better
ReplyDeleteMadame. Did I not make that clear?
ReplyDelete