My office smells like…something. Not bad, just clean.

I suspect the night janitors. You see, I eat a lot of vegetables and whole wheat, inordinant amounts of fiber, and therefore, I’m constantly stinking up the joint. Farts, flatulance, dropping bombs, whatever you’d like to call it. At first I tried to go other places, like the bathroom or something, but that’s just ridiculous. You don’t take your car into the garage to allow the exhaust to drain out. No, that’s considered suicide.

Also, I don’t wear deodorant, for religious reasons*, and I live in a scentless world, what with my smoking and the clogging of my nostrils with tar and tobacco. So with all of the smells rising up around me, and likely from me, I’m living in a vapid void of personal bliss.

* I’ve read alot about antiperspirants, that they contain aluminum and may contribute to Alzheimers (!?) but mostly that they are more of a cause of armpit stench than a relief. Like spraying Febreze over a pile of puke and hoping that the puke will smell good until you get a chance to spray it with more Febreze. It’s the bacteria in your sweat that, when it dies, stinks, so ridding yourself of bacteria is probably a better idea than covering it up. I seem to think this works. My aunts tell my mother I smell of all death’s curdling rot. Most girls I’ve gone out with tell me I smell fine, good sometimes even (of course, most girls I go out with are literally insane). So who knows? All I’m saying, is if humans are meant to smell a certain way, then why cover over that? What’s next, forcing our females to cover themselves in skin colored powder and paint their lips a bit more red? Hah! Insanity I tell you, each and every one of us…

Up Next: Oh Glorious, Solemn Winter Solstice