UploadedLobster

It's exactly as good as everyone says.

 

I...got nothin'. Gnhg.

 

 

Lobster Rating

better than: hrrngl

Oh god, blueberry pie filling. A BIG CAN OF REALLY GOOD BLUEBERRY PIE FILLING. Not snuck in spoonfulls out of a can in the fridge, though, oh no. Hotted up and dumped all over your naked wiggling self in an orgy of syrupy bliss and rolled around on the kitchen floor in while the blueberries go POP POP POP under you.

 

HNAAANHG.

 

There's other stuff in this. I know there's other stuff in this. I just don't care.

 

 

Lobster Rating

better than: running through a flock of pigeons

I'm actually kind of relieved I didn't really like SGA when I tried it at ComicCon. I'd never be able to convince myself to wear something I'd have no chance of finding another bottle of!

 

The apple is sour, cold, and hard. Perfect encapsulation of the title. There's a lot of white floral and ozone mixed in, especially once the oil is on my skin and the apple burns off like the fleeting top note it is. Left in its wake is a faintly sweet white bouquet over brittle crystalline frost.

 

Not my thing, but wow--if you like your scents white, airy, and wintery, jump on this sucker.

 

 

Lobster Rating

better than: wet wool socks

Great Sword of War, without exception, always prompts somebody to tell me I smell great.

 

Only problem being, I kinda don't actually like Great Sword of War all that much. I've worn my imp maybe a half-dozen times in the past year.

Hell yeah TROLL.

 

About as far from vanilla anything as you could hope to get--richly pungent, fascinating, and unlike anything else GC or LE.

I get mandarin and lotus floating in a chilly sea of aquatics. In this case, "chill" equals a very light touch of a minty white floral. Normally aquatics turn to seaweed ass on me, but the sweetness of the fruit and lotus root rescue this one.

 

 

Lobster Rating

better than: out of season tomatoes

Amazing. Uncanny. Bewildering, even!

 

All airplane lavatories smell the same. That scent spans airplane make and model, airline, economy class, business class, and first class alike. Identical. Faintly floral, faintly soapy, mixed with the soft ambient waft of Scotchgarded polyester seat fabric and the dark blue chemical disinfectant in the waste tank below.

 

Turns out that smell is King of Hearts. Now I just need to figure out whether the bathrooms smell like King of Hearts or King of Hearts smells like the bathrooms: it's a very chicken-or-egg sort of question.

 

 

Lobster Rating

better than: a water landing

Sure enough, it's buttered toast and pineapple. There is a very specific bread thing going on here; not cake, BREAD. Bread slapped with a thick wad of good, fresh butter, and syrupy cooked pineapple.

 

If you dig Upa Upa (or wanted Upa Upa and missed out), Drink Me isn't far off. It doesn't have the same brown-sugar-molasses thing, but the combination of sweet rich pineapple and buttery things is spot-on. Delicious.

 

 

Lobster Rating

better than: a little goat standing on a bigger goat

NONE of the oils are made to be consumed. None of them are poisonous, so far as I know, but there's a lot of room for internal unpleasantness before you get to actual poison. He may not have had any ill effects so far, but the official word of the people who make it that it's not for eating really should be enough. Assuming that that only applies to SOME oils, unless you're a scholar of chemical aromatics yourself, is a dangerous path to start down. I ask honestly: do you have enough information to second-guess skilled professionals in the field?

 

If he licks it when you let him put it on, stop letting him put it on. If he's trying to get a bottle so he can drink it, you probably ought to let your parents know that your brother is about to do something potentially toxic and definitely not-smart. Under no circumstances should you assume that him eating perfume oil is anything but a bad idea.

GWOO-HA. Big fat purple green plastic doom. Sugar, freesia, grape, and death.

Imagine a vinyl parade balloon of purple grapes, big as half a city block. Now, imagine that some terrible parade mishap occurs and it deflates directly over you, trapping you in a suffocatingly tiny space with a woman wearing way too much white-floral drugstore perfume. The grape is gone; only terror remains.

I think I'd like this much more if it were hairier and spottier, really.


Lobster Rating
better than: bastinado

I am...a chick in cherry cola. SAVAGE GARDEN EAT YOUR HEART OUT HA HA HA HAAAAAAA

 

That is all.

 

 

Lobster Rating

better than: bottle rockets

A chocolate-covered strawberry is giving me a manicure. Or maybe she's an apple or a lychee or something; she's an indistinct red fruit, anyway.

 

"Oh, sweetie," she says, busily scrubbing acetone onto my nails. It's strong acetone. "you just can't let yourself expect too much, you know? 'Scuse me." After just a few minutes she takes off the chocolate coat and gets back to work.

 

"I mean you can't get attached. Try it on, sure, but before you know it the spice is gone." She sighs theatrically and starts filing. The dusty scent of nail powder replaces the acetone, and I don't have the heart to tell her that not only is the spice gone, there never was any spice at all.

 

She files and buffs for about five minutes. Frankincense comes in and she waves, but he's just in to get some cuticle creme and doesn't stay long. Ten minutes later, while she's putting a really light nutmeg color on my nails--really really light, it's almost like wearing nothing at all--Sandalwood drops in to wait for his appointment.

 

"All done!" she says.

 

"That didn't take long," I say. Half an hour of work and my nails look almost exactly like they did when I came in. A little smoother and glossier, but that's about it.

 

"Honey," she says, "I told you you can't expect too much."

 

I pay and leave, and as I hurry out I hear her telling Sandalwood that he really just needs to let go. I'm not going back to that salon any time soon.

 

 

Lobster Rating

better than: cat hair in your sandwich

This is much sharper than I was expecting, sharper and less sweet. It has a lot in common with Van Van, actually--that same sort of lemongrassy flavor. The hay, amber, wheat, and honey...I have no idea. Why did they run away? Who knows? Who can say, really, what hay, amber, wheat and honey truly feel? It's a question for the ages.

 

Here's my encapsulation of the whole Hay Moon experience, translated for narrative efficiency into lolcat:

 

O HAY *order*

 

O HAY THAR *sniff bottle*

 

HAY WAIT *sniff wrist*

 

SRSLY NAO *more wrist*

 

O MAN :'(

 

 

...I'ma age it and see if the sharp stuff calms down a little.

 

 

Lobster Rating

better than: drinking out of the milk carton and finding out it's gone off

A soft honey sweetness with a resinous twang and the hint of grains, plus a tart little smack of lemon across its backside.

 

This is not Mead Moon at all. This is HEFEWEIZEN MOON! Woo hoo!

 

Beer-loathers, be not afraid, because this is everything that's good about a hefeweizen (the sweetness, the round complex flavor, the richness balanced by tartness) without any of the bad stuff (the lemon seeds, the need to pee afterwards). This perfume is what a good hefeweizen becomes when it goes to heaven.

 

 

Lobster Rating

better than: ...mead.

I'm reminded of something I read a number of years back about the properties of honey.

 

A group of Egyptologists, back in a more casually-regulated era, had opened a tomb that morning and begun inventory of the grave goods before the lunch hour arrived. Said Egyptologists, remembering that one of the jars they had found was full of honey, and that honey does not spoil, brought it out from the tomb to use on their bread. They were delighted by its flavor, mellowed by hundreds of years and touched with the scent of the long-dead blooming plants whose pollen it had been made from.

 

Later inventory discovered that also contained in the jar was a marvellously intact human head, presumably a lover or vanquished enemy of the noble in the tomb. Its long hair still trailed from its scalp, its skin was still smooth, and the embalming resins used inside the cavity of its skull were still thick and aromatic. Honey, as it turns out, is also an excellent preservative.

 

Cleopatra Testing Poisons is the scent of that head.

 

Lobster Rating

better than: hundreds of years stuck in a jar. even if it's a really nice jar.

Got this as a frimp, dabbed it on, and fell into gibbering lust as the amazing smoky resins just bloomed up off my skin. Dark, bitter, and rich. Subtly sweet. I'd have never known this had a floral note if I hadn't just read the description; it's very well-blended.

 

Reminds me somewhat of Fenris Wolf, Lycaon, Schwarzer Mond...it's got that same resiny menace that makes me imagine crushing somebody's still-beating heart beneath the sole of a very expensive leather boot.

 

Lobster Rating

better than: stepping in liver by mistake

I put it on and was set to come on here and be all "AGH WHAR THE RUM BE AT" because Upa^2 was nothing but butterscotch doom, and everyone knows that rum is RUM, not butterscotch, because if butterscotch were rum it would be called RUM. And it ain't.

 

Well, the rum showed up in the time it took me to boot the comp. Buttery, really spicy spiced rum. The pineapple blew off quickly but I think there's still some coconut meat in there giving it a little oily silkiness. I wanted pineapple rum but homg this is LOVE. Wow.

 

Best part is that it smells like it'll be sexy for a hot summer day and cozy under a sweater in November. The best spice blends like Bengal make that transition really well, and Upa^2 looks like it's another year-round winner in the same way.

 

 

Lobster Rating

better than: a maraschino cherry on a little plastic sword

First reaction: WOOOOOOO WASABI PERFUME WOOOOOOO SPICY NECK WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO *cough*

So yeah.

In the bottle, it really does do the wasabi thing to your nose. Just a little bit.

I was expecting a thick bitter sweet scent, but this is actually pretty light. The first few minutes are faintly cologne-y with a vegetal flavor to the wasabi, and the dry-down settles comfortably into notes I recognize: the wasabi turns dry, green, and woody like the paste (mmm paste), the astringence of strong black tea under that, and honey sort of mumbled through both of them. Moderately sweet, moderately bitter, really nice combination.

Not a lot of throw, but it lasts for a few hours and once the wasabi note settles it doesn't morph any more. I absolutely love catching whiffs of it, because it reminds me that I have a SPICY NECK, and everyone who has so far been compelled to SMELL MY SPICY NECK WOOOOO has expressed approval of it.

The First Mate: digs it.
The cats: sneeze.


Lobster Rating
better than: spicy brains. srsly.

This is Bengal, only with no honey and lotsa wood. Both of them smell like a spice cabinet filled with everything you'd put in a pumpkin pie and a sweet curry, but where Bengal is syrupy and enfolding, Plunder is dry and bracing.

 

The papery cinnamon bark is the strongest note on me, but other than that it's basically a hot spice melange. I do mean hot. It's sharper than most spice mixes, almost acrid. Lasts a long time.

 

Nice, but...one plundering is enough for me.

 

 

Lobster Rating

better than: yet another "booty" joke

This goes from being a floral black-musk bomb on me to a fabulous dusty, lightly sugared violet in about five minutes. I keep getting whiffs of it and feeling very elegant--it's got sort of a Victorian mourning aesthetic about it. Nice stuff.


Lobster Rating
better than: crumpets

(2008 version)

 

WHLEAARGHLAGL AGH AGH

 

BLECHT

 

GAH

 

I hate it. I hate it -so- much. It is a pitch-perfect olfactory recreation of a nursing home, from the stale scent of skin to the old grocery-store flowers in somebody's room down the hall to the linoleum wax to the rubber sheets on mattresses. It's vile. This is the precise diametric opposite of down and dirty sex. This makes me never want to have sex again.

 

 

Lobster Rating

better than: actually being in a nursing home, but goddamn, not by much

I guess I'm really in the minority here. Gennivre was nothing special. There's mint and green tea to start but they're faint and soon gone, and then there's a vague faint sweetness and the unmistakable whiff of posh guest-bathroom soap.

 

If it lasted, I might like it--even with the soap. But it doesn't. Gennivre is a weenie little whatever on me. Nuts.

 

 

Lobster Rating

better than: getting ripped off at the drive-thru window

I'm looking for blends that are pure unadulterated comestibility. There are a lot of sweet oils that have, say, a floral note or two, or some woods, or a resin, or what-have-you, and I would like to avoid ALL of that. I want to smell sweet and edible and NOTHING ELSE. Can you help?

 

Examples: Bengal (spicy), Eat Me (cakey), Fruitcake (fruity)

*blink*

 

*blinkblink*

 

WTF?

 

From smelling Theodosius on my skin I'd figure there was bitter orange peel and pine tar and lavender. Vanilla? Fougere? Tea?

 

I love me some Theo, but apparently somehow I'm wearing his evil twin. I love the sharp elegance of the scent, regardless of what actually turns out to be in it. It's fairly masculine. Quite dark and fresh at the same time, which is a great combination. I'll be wearing this when I want to feel sophisticated and intimidating.

 

 

Lobster Rating

better than: crudites

An eerily accurate cantaloupe, musky rind and all, with a very delicate and faint floral edge. It's sweet, girlish, and charming. Not sure how earthy or ratty I'd call it, but I'm certainly enjoying it.

 

 

Lobster Rating

better than: frilly pink bra