In the words of Forrest Gump, “I am not a smart man, Jen-nay. But I know what love is.” Maybe I’m the last guy on earth who had never heard of pheromones or used them to woo some unsuspecting broads, but it made me think of that nerd on “The Simpsons” in a lab surrounded by beakers.

I was familiar with a hormone, thanks to my mom’s favorite joke that she’s been telling since I met her:

“How do you make a hormone, Paul?”

“I don’t know mom, how?”

“Step on her toe!”

But what the hell is a pheromone? According to Wikipedia: “A pheromone is a secreted or excreted chemical factor that triggers a social response in members of the same species.”

Whoa! Same species? Ex-squeeze me, but keep your hands of my genus, man. Wait, never mind; women are part of our species even though it rarely feels like that.

To put this stuff to the test, I sprayed it onto my body prior to engaging in varying social situations where I knew women would be present: the strip club, the office, the dentist office and my daughter’s daycare. All in the name of science, gents.

Once I entered the confines of the Bottom’s Up Lounge, I knew some type of social response would be triggered. As ZZ Top’s “Lowdown in the Street” poured through the speakers, my cohort and I made a b-line for the front of the stage. For comparisons sake, I was fully loaded up with Pherlure while he was completely unscented.

As I sat there, I was approached by a young, hot stripper. The first thing she said to me after rubbing up against my chest/$15 faux fleece pullover from a nearby Wal-Mart was, “Wow, you smell great.” BOO-YAH. I bet she’s never said that to a dude before or since and actually meant it, like she did to me.

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