.

One of the weirder corollaries of starting down the wetshaving path is the newbie's olfactory "coming out". Straight, conservative, repressed Midwestern men to whom Old Spice is about the wackiest scent they'd ever consider wearing suddenly find themselves rutting naked through fields of lavender and violet like horny satyrs. The simple act of switching from a drugstore shaving gel to a lavender, sandalwood, lime, or rose-scented English shaving cream becomes a tipping point that opens up a whole new obsession centered around surrounding yourself with excellent smells.

My own holy shit moment was Trumper's Violet shaving cream. I'd been using several old-school creams scented with sandalwood and limes -- nice, safe, traditional manly-man scents -- but when I first cracked open a tub of the Violet, my knees buckled and a little lace hankie materialized in my hand somehow so I could raise it to my forehead and exclaim, "Oh, Rhett!"

I'd hated floral scents my whole life, but all of a sudden, I loved them. Couldn't get enough of them -- Taylor's Lavender and Rose shaving creams, Trumper's almighty Violet, hell, now I even use Classic Shaving's Lilac scented shaving soap, which I'm pretty sure qualifies you as being bi-curious just for shaving with it. Violet's one thing, but lilac?! And I fathered children? Doesn't add up.

Now I'm cookoo for cocoa puffs over Nancy Boy's house "signature" scent of lavender, peppermint, and rosemary. I started using their amazing shaving cream scented with this trio, and now I'm addicted. I've always liked lavender, and it's Beloved Wife's favorite scent, but the addition of peppermint and rosemary somehow transforms a classically calming and sedate scent into an amazingly addictive aroma that somehow manages to relax and energize at the same time.

Lavender alone is fine. Mint alone is nice. Rosemary is good with chicken. But put the three together, and forget it -- just give me a paper bag and clear my schedule, because I've got huffing to do. Oh, but golf is an acceptable obsession, you say? Fine, must be nice living in your world. Leave me to my huffing, squares.

The Nancy Boy shaving cream led to their other lavpepmary-scented products -- the shampoo, the bath soap, the hand soap, the cooling aftershave gel, especially (I'll have more to say about this later). All of these products rock so hard they've become staples, something no single brand has ever been able to sway me into. I've never liked a brand across the board enough to buy into it for all the various toiletry tasks at hand, but Nancy Boy's killing me lately, and its house scent is a big part of it.

But now I fear I've crossed a threshold I may never be able to scurry back over. Along with my last order, Nancy Boy threw in a bag of their signature-scented Signature Aeromatics. It's a blend of crushed lavender, peppermint, and rosemary. You're supposed to put it in a bowl and set it out so it'll scent your room and look nice.

Yes, that's right. Go on, say it. You know you want to. Please, just get it out in the open so we can deal with it already, dammit. Okay fine, I'll say it:

It's POTPOURRI.

Happy now? It's potpourri. Is there anything in the world more disgusting than potpourri? Just saying the word give me the willies. In my mind I smell some godawful blend of dried orange peel, tea rose, patchouli, skunk moss, pine cones, bird shit, and whatever else is raked up from the yard and warmed over little bitty candles in numerous terrible scenarios I've suffered through over the years. I once stopped seeing a girl because she liked keeping bowls of the stuff around her apartment. I just couldn't do it. I could accept the Nagel prints and the schizophrenia, but I drew the line at potpourri.

But this was Nancy Boy, and I could smell that lavender, peppermint, and rosemary right through the sealed plastic bag. So I told myself it was "Signature Aeromatics", not potpourri, the same way I told myself that my Batman, Aquaman, Big Jim, and Stretch Armstrong dolls weren't dolls at all but "action figures", and I tore into it.

I split the bag's contents between two bowls (Beloved Wife: "Um, I use those bowls for serving..") and put one in my office and the other in our bedroom. And let me tell you something, man and boy -- our home will never be without strategically placed bowls of this stuff around the house again.

Just two bowls, one upstairs and one downstairs, and now our whole house smells great. And the rooms with the bowls smell insanely great. I stick my face in the bowl in our bedroom at night before we go to bed and take a nice, deep huff, and I swear my neck muscles spontaneously liquefy. This is exactly how I want the air around me at all times to smell. Lavender to calm me, peppermint to stimulate me, and rosemary to remind me of those best-ever lamb chops we ate in Paris where they served them with match-lit sprigs of rosemary stuck into the bird and literally smoking like incense, leaving trails of smoke from the kitchen to our table.

I don't really know where the hell I can go from here. "Brokeback Mountain" desktop wallpaper? Using iSquint so I can watch Isaac Mizrahi on my iPod during my pedicure?