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SEX SMELLSWe Doused a Nerd in Pheromones to See What Would Happen
BY SERENA PEZZATO PHOTOS BY GIORGIO DI SALVO ![]() Earlier this month we ordered up some Phiero pheromone cologne to see what all the fuss was about. This stuff is supposed to make a man more irresistible to women than LL Cool J after bathing in a pool of Spanish fly, beaver musk, and balm of Gilead. It arrived last week, and boy does it reek. Opening the box was like lifting up a mattress that had a Japanese rentboy’s corpse underneath it. We were fairly confident its supposed magic powers were marketing fabrications, but we wanted to see what would happen if we spritzed someone with half a bottle and sent him to a few of Milan’s trashiest nightclubs. The test subject was Marco Zanoni, aka Illegal Kikko: a slightly rotund, charmingly shy young man who at last count has seen every episode of Twin Peaks seven times. It was a complete disaster. Vice: Tell us about your wonderful night, Marco. Marco Zanoni: Outside the first bar I spotted two girls leaning against a parked car. I was a bit nervous, so I had another drink before stepping out to approach them. Unfortunately, I’d had a lot of booze already, and on my way over I threw up. Violently. I leaned over some plants and puked my guts out. I puked so hard I broke a blood vessel in my nose, and by the time I got up I had blood running down my face. The girls must have seen me because they left. I headed in the direction of another girl, but as soon as I got to her a very menacing guy popped up and she said, “I have no time to waste.”
I think I shouted something like, “Illegal Kikko controls Italy!” but I was still all bloodied up. Whatever. She wasn’t all that. How did it go in the second club after you wiped the barf off your chin? Were the ladies more receptive to the powers of Phiero? We ended up in a Latino place filled with guys in white shirts. I tried my new cologne out with two girls right by the entrance and one ran away, saying she didn’t want to be photographed because she was a professional dancer. The other looked like Shrek. I think the pheromones worked on her. Oh, do tell. Well, at first she said I was a clown because I told her about the experiment. She thought it was all “a plot to get a handjob” and that I had made everything up to get one from her. I called her an idiotbut, remember, I was pretty drunk. I explained: “There are ten people looking at me and a guy taking pictures. Do you think I’d set up a circus like this to get a handjob off of you? I don’t think so.” It seems that she liked the strong type, because she changed her attitude after that. And she made it clear that I could count on a handjob. All right! Now that I think about it, maybe it was the cologne. The girl was ready to go. Did she end up touching your penis? No. I told her no. For the sake of science. There goes your only chance this year. I saw another two girls I wanted to experiment with, so I had to let Shrek go. See all articles by this contributor
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