‘Twas The Night Before Christmas Vlogger Style

It has become an annual tradition for me to take the classic “Twas the Night Before Christmas by Clement Clarke Moore and twist it into a better smelling version. For the end of 2016 I have imagined a summit of some of my favorite perfume video bloggers in the same house awaiting the arrival of Scent Nick bearing new things for them to review in 2017.

 

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a vlogger was stirring, not even a mouse;
The cameras were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that Scent Nick would leave a video there;

Nick and Pia were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of next year’s videos danced in their heads;
Sebastian was sleeping great in his cap, and Al in off the street,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
They sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window they flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the luster of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be Scent Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, Carlos! now, Maximilian! now, Redolessence and Dracdoc!
On, My Mickers! on Daver! on, Max Forti and robes08!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of fragrance, and Scent Nick too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney Scent Nick came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of perfume he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a sales associate just opening his pack.

His eyes — how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like Rose Pompon, his nose like a Cherry Musk!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a Bowmakers,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the Siberian Snow;

The atomizer of a flacon he held tight in his grip,
And the sillage it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he spritzed like a bowlful of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old colognoisseur,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled the room with scents; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the final base note.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!

If you are looking for some video diversion this Holiday weekend click on any of the links above to check out the vloggers mentioned.

As I reach the end of my third year of doing Colognoisseur I want to wish every one of my readers the Happiest of Holidays. The fact that you have been so loyal has been the present which keeps giving back to me.

Mark Behnke

 

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