I am addicted to fragrance like some are to heroin. My latest conquests in the "I'll-love-you-till-I-die" realm all include incredibly expensive things. Basically, Xerjoff has me by the b***s, Amouage is stroking my ego to the point where I've become a pompous ass, and I even designed my own fragrance (online) and expect it to arrive in a week or so. Now I know why my back pocket smokes; my debit card is about to burst into some sort of conflagration that will, as they say, "bite me in the butt." At this point in my life, I should be a doddering, drooling, grouchy old humpback, but NOOOOO! I drunk from the fountain of youth and feel like a teenager. Those of you who pray, I need to win the lottery.
post #1 of 12
8/22/10 at 6:55pm