First off , let me just say "donkey shins" to all of you who have been so bored or mentally disturbed enough to read my blog.
I am tickled to announce that yesterday I went over 1000 views to this chronicle of insanity in a little over a month!
I thought it was fitting that it was on the 29th of February which is Leap Day!
That is whimsical, exciting and oh so cool, so thanks a bunch!
In commemoration of this excellent milestone I thought it fitting to make this entry one of public service and education.
Today we will be delving into the sensitive subject of body odor.
It’s a fact of life that when you were in grade school there was one or two kids in class who were the smelly kids.
It was not their fault.
Kids don’t care.
Generally before the age of ten little kids don’t have any type of body smell detectors, which is why infants have no qualms whatsoever about wearing a dirty diaper for days at a time.
Take my word for it, It’s the parents that really care if little Johnny or Lucy smell like road kill.
If babies had anything to do with it, they would be down to wearing a Hefty bag with arm holes, gathered at the neck and throwing Mama a thumbs up to empty it when it reached chin level.
That would literally be a green planet solution.
No more of those pesky Huggies taking up the landfills!
But once you reach the age of puberty hopefully you will understand the concept of clean=good, smelly=bad.
Unless the only friends you plan on having are living inside an Xbox game.
Which brings me to the baffling phenomenon of grown-up people who stink.
I was riding the elevator the other day and in steps this burly guy who looks like he just danced his way out of Saturday Night Fever complete with gold chains and chest hair.
Hey, whatever floats your boat.
Maybe he was going through his BeeGees phase or attending a “Saved by the Bell” panel at Comic-Con.
It’s hard to say......
It’s hard to say......
But the weirdest thing about this throw-back bloke was the fact that he straight-up reeked!
B.O. City.
Since he was obviously not homeless, it baffled me that he could spend so much time getting all gussied-up and not realize that he desperately needed a bar of Irish Spring and a major pit wash!
Apparently someone told him that the time tested ritual of a good old-fashioned scrubbin’ could be replaced by a gallon jug of Hugo Boss.
Listen up fellas.
This is just not true.
No amount of fancy smancy cologne can cover up the unmistakable smell of Eau De Armpit.
I politely exited stage right at the next floor.
And ladies, this rule is not exclusive to guys!
After working all day, remember to get your scrawny tush in the shower before hitting the club!
Otherwise you won’t be known as “the hot girl who smells hot”, but “Miss Chanel No.5 with a side of stink”
But on the up side, I know a guy with some STUNNING gold chains who would LOVE to meet you!
…………I’m just sayin’
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Before you get all inflated in the cranium, I must claim my due. Yes, I am taking full credit for your writing success. Never forget all those endless hours I sacrificed, listening to you tapping endlessly on our ancient, (but highly treasured) typewriter, THEN having to actually READ the mindless drivel you had produced! You never appreciated my editing skills, but they have made you the prolific writer you are today. You may thank me now. I feel like a proud mother.
ReplyDelete*Congrats my friend! I've always known you'd be famous one day! Writing and humor are just two of the many amazing talents you have! (Faithful friend ranks right up at the top!). I love you and I am delighted by your new venture! Keep it comin' Mama!
Pammy