Seriously, how tired must I have been this morning when, in the midst of my getting ready routine, I applied Chapstick under my arms instead of deoderant. I could see picking up the wrong one and moving slightly in that direction before correcting my mistake and stopping, but I went so far as to swipe both pits. That’s just pathetic.
Note to self, buy new tube of Chapstick at the store today because the old one is now only good for taking up landfill space.
Isn’t a tube of Chapstick considerably smaller than a stick of deordorant? Of course, I am asking you this as the man who, a few weeks ago, poured orange juice on his cereal rather than the more traditional milk.
Not to worry.
My dad, tired and disoriented from the sound of a barmstorming mosquito at 2am, desided to nuke the fucker with insect spray. Later, he heard frying, hissing sounds of strong chemical droplets impacting the floor, beddig and furniture. He’d used oven cleaner.
You could always save it for the stranger on a ski lift who asks if he can borrow it. What color the barn was these guys were raised in I’ll never know.
But the mosquito bit it, right?
Yeah, I would have thought a detail like that would have helped clue me in. Turns out, not so much.
At least you won’t have chaffing on your pits today!
Oh, is this a support group?
A couple of Saturdays ago, I woke up a little hung over. Queasy, bleary, head hurting. I thought that brushing my teeth would make me feel better. I accidentally put hair gel on my toothbrush, stuck it in my mouth and promptly hurled.
(I did feel better afterwards!)
Hurriedly reaching for the Olbas Oil instead of the perfume bottle makes one feels pretty stupid too. AND smell all eucalyptus-y.
Bayard I’ve nearly done your orange juice one - in my case it was tomato juice instead of milk in my morning coffee. 
It should a while now before anybody else tries a thread about “Dopers are all smart and clever”. 
Long ago, in college, after a late night, I decided to spend the night in a friend’s dorm room instead of trekking back to the apartment where my contact lens solutions and glasses lived. My eyes were therefore pretty dry when I woke up in the middle of the night. I did, however, have my little bottle of lens re-wetting solution, and I fumbled it out of my backpack in the dark.
The contacts themselves may have saved my sight. Moments later, the screaming woke up everyone, and word got around that Nametag had poured Liquid Paper in his eye.
Send that Chap Stik to me. I know just what to do with it.