Mr Bonkers recently suggested that we kick Sky, our satellite channel provider, into touch, as we aren't watching nearly enough TV to warrant the £60 a month. One of the programmes I will miss is a crime series called "Snapped: Women Who Kill". Apart from anything, I have always appreciated the portentous semi-colon in the title. The other day my friend Clare wrote on Mr Bonkers' Facebook wall, warning him that he may regret this decision:
"Having watched all those episodes of 'Women who Kill', Vanessa knows all the best techniques. You don't want to upset her...I'd restore Sky, smartish".
But really, it is okay. I am fully behind the decision and not about to run amok in the living room wielding a semi-automatic rifle. Or for that matter a knitting needle, mini-stapler or Estée Lauder lip gloss, all of which items sundry airlines down the years have construed as offensive weapons and summarily confiscated from me.
But what did get me mad the other day were some more technical difficulties while decanting. I don't know this for sure, but I may be the most prolific blogger in perfumeland on the subject of various decanting issues: from bottles that only spray at a funny angle, to swivelling nozzles and overspray problems, tricky viscosities and curious arrangements of insulation tape. On this recent occasion, a 2.5ml glass atomiser was getting up to its tricks again - well, different tricks, in fact.
Yes, the usual trick of these particular vials is to resist having their tops put on altogether, even if you follow to the letter the method outlined on the Accessories For Fragrance website.
No, this time something most peculiar occurred. I was trying to consolidate my small samples of Armani Sensi - an underrated jasmine floral I have already reviewed on Bonkers - into a single 2.5ml atomiser, as I quite fancied spraying it for once. My only other stocks of this scent are in the form of a miniature with a tiny aperture, so there was no hope of transferring its contents - that will forever remain strictly a dabbing receptacle.
But I had a couple of ml in 1ml vials to combine and managed to get them into the 2.5ml atomiser okay. Then I had some trouble getting the top on, but in the end I managed to bodge it in after a fashion, applying lots of brute force (though I didn't deploy the geode this time). But the fit bothered me still - for some reason I doubted whether it was properly in - I hadn't heard it do that click thing it is meant to do, and it was also sitting at a slightly funny angle.
So I set about trying to take the top section off again: pulling it this way and that, trying to twist it or prise it off with my fingers. I was just about to go and take a knife to it when I had the bright idea of trying to bite the top off . Apart from anything it felt like a way to release the annoyance I was by now feeling - and after all, it is a tried and tested method I use with those dangly plastic tags from the dry cleaner's that you remember to remove just as you are going into an important meeting.
Well, I am not sure I would recommend biting as a technique of atomiser disassembly, because the whole top sheared off, leaving the rest of the mechanism still firmly stuck inside the vial, like the stinger a bee deposits into your skin. I have not yet tried to get it out again. other than half-heartedly upending the darn thing to see if any perfume comes out the tiny hole in the atomiser tube / "stinger equivalent" (it doesn't). I will have to try taking a knife to the plastic rim embedded in the glass base at some point, but I sense it may be messy.
And the worst part about biting off more than I could crunch? Getting perfume in my mouth - not much, obviously, as you can see from the photograph, but enough to know it is not something that - notwithstanding its alcoholic base - will displace my favourite tipple of G & T any time soon.
Mugshot photo from crimeinvestigation.co.uk, photo of a vial having its top inserted from accessoriesforfragrances.com, photo of bee sting from Wikipedia, photo of Sensi mini from Ebay, other photo my own.