In Stanfordville, whenever we wanted our goats to mate, I would take a rag to the neighbor’s buck, rub it on his body, put the rag in a jar, bring it to our nanny goat, give her a whiff of the jar and presto! she would be in heat the next day.
I have always been able to distinguish my friends by their individual scents. None of us ever thought that a bitter smell was”bad”. Rather, the belief has been that all smells are part of nature’s offerings for our survival. I could always tell when each of the women I’ve shared my life with had their period, based on their scents. Thank god.
Today, in their greedy hustle to push products, the whores of Madison Avenue would have over-educated cosmopolitans believe that a perfume manufactured in a lab has more arousal power than one’s own body scent.