(originally posted August, 2006)
Unfortunately… I’m not talking about a song by Parliament. I can only wish I was. You know what, though, it’s bad enough that most of us are walking around wilting in the heat, and burning off the skin on the backs of our legs on those leather seats we enjoy so much, but then comes a certain unpleasantry that rises, right along with the mercury.
Yep… I’m here today to talk about FUNK.
I wish I didn’t have to. I swear on a stack of bars of Irish Spring that I wish that I didn’t have to endure the funk of 40,000 years rising off of folks’ bodies in public places. I’m not even talking about homeless or indigent folks who live on the streets… whyyabullshittin, some of the homeless folk that I see regularly are cleaner and more well-kept than some of the people going to work on the Metro every morning!
My first question: How in the hell do you stand yourself when you smell so bad that you’ve got little wavy stink lines rising off you like in a cartoon? Of exactly what kind of mental deficiency must one be possessed to allow themselves to walk around smelling like a pile of hot garbage and a three day old autopsy?
My second question: Why is it that women act like they don’t sweat… Heffa.. you ain’t glistening, or dewy or damp. Your ass is just as wet as mine is. Stop trying to be cute.
I will admit, I had a moment last weekend. I was shopping for the appliances in the new place with a friend and in a rush, I’d forgotten to put my deodorant on after I got out of the shower (hey.. it happens to the best of us). Now of course, it’s 95 degrees outside and I’m wearing something that’s a little inappropriate for the heat but I got dressed in a hurry. Suffice it to say that about two hours later I noticed I was a l’il moist in the armpits. I did the surreptitious sniff test and geez-mo-flip!!!!!! I thought I saw stars and almost passed out. (I sweat like a buffalo and without anti-perspirant/deodorant it’s not pretty for those in my immediate vicinity). I was completely embarrassed and told my companion we were going to have to cut our trip short. She was relatively unfazed (but I made sure to keep my arms down lest she get hit with the biological warfare) and we went on about our business.
I will also grant that there’s a difference between sweaty and funky… and I want y’all brothers to understand that when you’ve been out hoopin for six hours with your boys, your balls are salty and nobody wants to suck on them, or smell them. Go wash your ass! And uh… to those women out there who want to believe that the vagina is a self-cleaning organ PLEASE wash your ass. TWICE. Gotdammit, it’s not an oven. If you’ve got more than one sexual partner, you eat onions and garlic by the pound and you’re in the gym twice a day, then for the love of god when you get home STOP, go to the shower and wash your funky ass, do not pass go, do not collect $200! And anybody that can smell themselves, you get a gorilla-pimp-slap because if you can smell you, so can OTHER people!
I read Bella’s blog all the time and sometimes she gets stuck on the treadmills next to a dude so funky her nose hair is about to fall out. One of the funniest stories I ever read online was the story of a hookup gone bad at a meet and greet… the dude in question talked about the female something fierce cause her hygiene wasn’t up to snuff (or is that SNIFF? LOL) We can sit here and laugh about it all the time, but there is NOTHING funny about funk.
Oh.. another side thought… it aint just fat folks that are funky. I guess some people wonder how larger people get it done… maybe they go to their local party store and rent a midget and a pressure washer – for myself, my loofah gloves and that handheld showerhead ensure that I STAY so fresh and so clean at every opportunity.
Funk isn’t just limited to the pits and crack, either. Some of y’all out there got some foot odor that could kill a horse. I used to take my infant daughter and go running out of the room when my was-band would take his shoes off… put them funky mothafuckas out on the porch or something… that’s just NASTY! Put some charcoal briquettes in your shoes, get some Odor Eaters and WASH, WASH, WASH!!!!
And for those of you who are tracked up ... yes - all that hair against your scalp for weeks on end will REEK. Spare your man the indignity of having to lay face first in a pile of hair that smells like three day old baby formula. Dab with witch hazel or get some dry shampoo... and if you aint weaved up there's no excuse why you don't wash your hair at least once a week. Ole fonky asses!
Then there are people whose bodies are clean but their clothes aren’t…as my boy Skrap says, “Febreze is NOT an alternative to washing your SHIT!” Neither is a liberal application of cologne. Nothing is unsexier than Issey Miyake over a layer of funk when you’re in the club trying to get your mack on.
And what about breath? Aint it a damn shame when you get to work all early in the morning and your co-workers got the Yuck-Mouf so damn bad that their breath is taking the skin off the side of your face and their mouth is CLOSED? Those are the folks that don’t take the gum when you offer it… knowing good and damn well they need it like a crack fiend needs a hit.
As I try to bring this to a close, I can’t help but wonder how some folks walk around KNOWING they stink to high heaven… I FEEL better when I shower, especially having been ill and bedridden, or having completed serious physical exertion. There is nothing like a shower to perk me up. Plus, I love the way certain bath products smell in combination with my skin, and then there’s my perfume. Who the hell would want to be funky, or next to anybody that is?
I say all that to say this: When in doubt, WASH IT OUT!!! Better still: Lather, Rinse, Repeat…
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