Sweaty Boy

I’d like to start this post off by admitting something–I am a sweaty, sweaty boy. And I’m not just sweaty because I’m hot blooded check it and see (I’ve got a fever of 100 and 3), I sweat more when I realize that I’m sweating. Because sweating leads to odor and odor leads to no friends. So I get nervous because I’m sweating, so I start sweating because I’m nervous, which makes me nervous because I’m sweating, so I start sweating because I’m nervous that I’m sweating–you get the idea: it’s a sweaty snake eating its own sweaty tail.

Thankfully, most of my stankwater was isolated to my armpits, so I did what any red-blooded American would do and shoved tiny pieces of aluminum into my armpits (applied antiperspirant). Problem solved: armpits + aluminum = friends. “Not so fast,” my body replied. “What am I supposed to do with all this stankwater?” And before I could reply, my body began spraying stankwater out of literally every other pore in my body except for my armpits. Which makes sense, I guess: Snake Pliskin’s going to Escape from New York even if you break his stealth glider. The end result was that Snake rescued the president, and I got to experience a lot of sweat around my neck and face.

The neck sweat had the bonus of creating a disgusting halo on any collared shirt that I wore so that you couldn’t tell whether I had sweated through the collar or covered it in Dijon mustard. The face sweat made me look like I was constantly committing perjury and was, at any given moment, three seconds away from my own personal Watergate scandal and impeachment.

Then, I had a transformation. I was looking for techniques on how to apply antiperspirant onto my whole body (because if you’re covered in aluminum, there’s nowhere for the sweat to escape) when I learned from a very helpful Internet message board that this might lead to unintended side effects such as death. I realized that there had to be a better way than dying from clogged pores. That’s when I saw ads for deodorant, deodorant without antiperspirant. The deodorant invited me to come forward, surrender my stank at the foot of the stick, and join in the chorus of freshness!

Oh, and I also made an effort to stop getting cripplingly anxious when I noticed myself sweating. It’s amazing how much better I feel just by trying to remain calm and not rub metal on my body. And that’s a joy I have that robots never will. Take that, robots.

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