Sunday, 21 November 2010

Taking a Dive!

Those of you who know me, and some of you know more about me than others, know that I am heavily into Patchouli as a scent/aroma.

Patchouli (Pogostemon cablin (Blanco) Benth; also patchouly or pachouli) is a species from the genus Pogostemon and a bushy herb of the mint family, with erect stems, reaching two or three feet (about 0.75 metre) in height and bearing small pale pink-white flowers. The plant is native to tropical regions of Asia and is now extensively cultivated in ChinaIndiaThailandIndonesiaMalaysiaMauritiusPhilippinesWest Africa and Vietnam.
The scent of patchouli is heavy and strong, used for centuries in perfumes. The word derives from the Tamil patchai (Tamilபச்சை) (green), ellai (Tamil:இலை) (leaf) [1]. In Assamese it is known as xukloti.
Pogostemon cablin, P. commosumP. hortensisP. heyneasus and P. plectranthoides are all cultivated for their oils and all are known as 'patchouli' oil, butP. cablin is considered superior.

Now this could be because of my ill spent youth when a certain Sgt Darnell of the local plod used to wander around  all the youth pubs in the City and try and "score".  (You never did work out that during the 60's, anyone with a short back and sides trying to score drugs in a youth Pub might just as well have had the letters F.U.Z.Z. tattooed on his forehead, did you Sgt D??) and so any of us who had been sitting too close to the local stoners when they were passing the duchies on the left hand side needed to cover up that lingering aroma.  Hence the blessings of Patchouli.

Anyhow, wandering around a craft fair I espied a glandularly endowed young blonde who was into soap in a big way. No, she wasn't an Eastenders fan, she was selling it, home-made and packed by hers truly and fortunately the table she was selling from was low and her neckline on her dress was lower.

Looking for something that was low enough to allow me to perve her I spotted some Patchouli Soap and so bought a few bars to have a nostalge but also for the view.  The view was extremely inviting and I imagined myself going flubflubdub all afternoon, but I digress.  I mentioned my liking for the smell and she agreed and then pointed out a bath-bomb infused with the same oils and, overwhelmed by yet another lengthy viewing of her wondrous orbs, I succumbed and bought that too.

This morning I ran a nice hot bath and dropped said bath-bomb in and then as it was fizzling away I got in and went to sit down!

Disaster struck and I slipped on the oily bottom of the steel bath and dived headfirst towards the taps.

Fortunately my dive was stopped by my head and cheek connecting first with the tiled wall and then with the taps and my hip, leg and bum caroomed off the side of the bath like the pinball in Tommy before the rest of the body that was untouched at that point hit the water at about Mach 2.

The resultant tidal wave meant the bathroom floor now does not need it's annual clean next week and emptying the bath got easier.

As I felt around my bicycle tyres where my lips used to be I was grateful to discover that most of my teeth were still in place and the bleeding was not making the rest of the water unacceptable to finish my ablutions within.

Post bath I discovered a black eye, left hand side of face extremely swollen and bruises in places I was amazed the bath found!  I also have a large cut above the eye.

In short, I look worse than bloody Audley Harrison after his fight with David Hayes and not only did the bath not lay a glove on me but also no-one paid me £3M for the display!

There aint no justice!

Ghenghis 2010

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