So, what started as a way to reduce the amount of aluminum gly deposited with indifferent swipes in the underarm area to ward off smells has evolved into a commitment to make every weekend a deo-free weekend.

In other words, every Saturday and Sunday bring on the smell. That musky, visceral, darkly primitive emanence from those underarm depressions fondly known as pits.

Woe to the uninitiated who cross my path unaware that there is something in the air, something…different.

To be fair, the need to clear the weekend air has been surprisingly unnecessary, as the actual odor is minimal.

In fact, now that I think about it, my pits have reeked more when under the protection of a so-called deodorant.

Something definitely stinks.