Cologne, Wrist Watches and my good friend, Channing Tatum.

{I realize this piece is a bit out of the ordinary for me. But I had fun writing it, and I hope you find the humor in it as well. Enjoy!}

The first piece of mail I received at my new apartment was a magazine.

It was wrapped in plastic with two big letters on top : GQ

Channing Tatum, gracing the cover looking kind of plastic, but glancing up at me as though he knew me a bit.

“I know you from somewhere!” says Tatum.
“Mm..no, I don’t think so…” I say.

Here’s the thing. I don’t subscribe to GQ. It was sent to the previous owner, but he is long gone now.
I kept it wrapped for a while, just in case he came by asking for it. Once I knew the owner of said uber-masculine magazine had long abandoned his sweet GQ, I decided to dive in and record my experience.

I guess weirdly enough, I sorta liked it.

Ridiculous, but certainly entertaining. You know how these things go.
The first five or six pages are pure advertisement. Beefy dudes wearing super tight shirts that would make me constantly tug at my love handles. Cool tie, though.

Oh! This one is cologne. I’ve had one bottle of cologne for 6 six years. I wear it maybe three times a year. It’s from Hollister, which I believe was honestly the last time I ever walked into that store. Mostly, the smell of that places makes me either want to run away into the wild, or to make out with someone for hours. I think it sort of triggers some raging hormone. It’s that attractive smell that makes me feel like I’m the kind of guy that takes care of my stuff. Maybe.

Oh yeah! I can actually sniff pages! Up first — Bleu de Chanel, by Chanel. I’m not diggin’ it. Smells too spicy. Too much like my old deodorant. Smells like someone who is trying too hard to smell good. Smells like an 8th grader learning how to balance his aroma.

Next I see board shorts. Chiseled abs. Tan. Bros, just hangin’.
Alcohol.
More shorts.
Ah right, it’s summer.

A lot of advertisements for watches. I haven’t owned a watch since 10th grade. When I was a kid, and it was cold, I would wear my watch outside of my sleeve.

I felt better putting up a picture of Bill Murray, than Channing Tatum. Sorry bud.

Next cologne to smell: Dior Homme Eau For Men (paired with a picture of Edward, from Twilight, out of character, though.)
Okay. It’s better than the first one. Notes: gin and tonic. Spice. Dial soap.

Alcohol.
Paired with an article on best college towns even when school is out. Moving on…

Oh! Another cologne already!
Chrome, by Azzaro. Meh. Notes: trying to hard, but not offensively fresh. Nothing substantial, no bottom end. Pretty bright. Pairs well with the picture, which is a bunch of dudes with sweaters around their necks running from their car to the beach.

Cigarettes.
More watches.

Dave Chappelle’s new show! Neat!

Uh oh. Another cologne. My nose is getting a little weary, but I’m ready.
Paco Rabanne, 1 Million
Weird photo of woman painted in gold hugging guy from behind who is in all black and white. I see what they did there.
Notes: Old Spice High Endurance Body Wash, but with a little more body, and a touch of vanilla yankee candle. I would have named this cologne, “375,000”

Watches again.
An article that helps you pinpoint, “What Kind of Nerd Are You”. Kind of funny. Cliche. I get it. **Spoiler** They all begin with wearing thick rimmed glasses from Warby Parker.

OH MAN BEN & JERRY’S SALTED CARAMEL CORE ICECREAM. THAT LOOKS SO GOOD.

All I can smell is cologne and some ma po tofu I just ate. It kinda works.

A really good article on asshole dads. Or I guess, “How to Not be an Asshole Dad”. Good info. Especially if you have kids that play sports.

Final cologne!
Vince Camuto, Homme
Probably my favorite out of all. But that’s not saying a lot. Balanced. Fruit. Chocolate. Citrus. Honey.

Great, now I have this insane urge to make out with somebody. Either that or buy a cover for my cell phone. And then I want a pretzel and I want to buy a cool jacket, even though it’s hot as hell outside.

Then comes an article on bit coin that I also enjoy. An interesting form of online currency that a lot of folks are trying to make sense of. I will never be able to afford any, but it’s super interesting.

Oh man, here comes the cover piece!
Channing Tatum.
Who is actually a silly dude. The piece is called, “American Hustler”.

All of his shirts are so tight.
Oh, y’all look he’s cracking an egg into a pan like he’s making you breakfast!
He’s a stud. No doubt.
Talks about how he has an inner fat kid, and that he’s a high functioning alcoholic at times.
He’s washing an old muscle car with the US flag in the back ground. God bless ‘Murica!
I’d have a beer with the dude. I suppose that’s the whole point, isn’t it?

After the cover story is a few pages on how to stock a bar, which was probably my favorite piece in this whole thing. It talks about which bottles to buy on a budget, and a few simple cocktails. It describes what tools are most important, and how to be a good host when offering your bar. I like this bit. Well designed article. User friendly. Two thumbs up. Makes me want a cocktail.

Mike Myers! Where have you been!? A one page article on what he’s doing now. How he loves being a dad and has taken a lot of time off to be with his kids. Bravo. ‘WOMAN! WHOA, MAN!’

The next several pages are filled with people who are too beautiful to even look at. Sheesh. Good on them for being beautiful and tone. Yeah, they’re pretty, but can they debone an entire pig? Probably not, but then again, neither can I. (yet.)

The last article is sad, but the one right before is about a couple who eats strictly paleo for a while. Cool, I guess?

There’s one last advertisement for a watch.

Goodness gracious.
It’s kinda fun though, right? I mean isn’t that why we buy these magazines in the first place? They distract us from a life only a few can really maintain. I’m not gonna lie, the magazine kind of made me feel cool. I would never belong at GQ, but I know their presence is substantial in a certain masculine climate.

As I turn the magazine over, there’s another guy staring at me. It’s for a cologne, but there’s no way to smell it. I just have to believe that if I buy this one cologne, I will embody this man, who looks like a mix between a young Johnny Cash, a little bit of young Arnold Schwarzenegger and older John Cusack.

And maybe today, I think I’d be okay with that.

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