If it smells like a rose…

6:45PM

I’m on the way home today and I close my eyes while I listen to my Ipod. Yeah, I think, this is good. I’m sitting next to some Indian guy that’s reading a book about computer networking.
He seems cool. The operative word here is “seems”.
Suddenly, this horrific odor enters my nose and seemingly holds my olfactory nerves hostage. O-M-G.
I open my eyes and see my Indian buddy has lifted his arm and is scratching his head. I never realized until today that on some Indian people the anus is located directly in the center of the armpit…or so it would seem.

How can anyone walk out of their house in the morning smelling like a heaping pile of burnt Gorgonzola? It’s so beyond me. And don’t give me the “I can’t wash because it’s against my religion” crap.
Even God would say, “Dude, You stink.”

Hey, Maazouk, they sell this stuff at CVS called soap. Here’s a couple of bucks.
Please, dear God almighty, go buy yourself a bar or two, you’re starting to attract some flies and you’re making me gag.

I was thinking this guy would make a great newfangled aromatic alarm clock.
I can hear his wife now: “Hey, honey? Lift up both your arms; the kids need to get up for school.
Pee capital freekin’ U.
Will somebody do me a favor and light a match?
Jeeesh….

~m

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7 thoughts on “If it smells like a rose…

  1. I’m all for carpooling but that story alone makes me thankful I don’t have to take mass transit to work. It’s not only foreigners. There’s a girl I work with, she smells like chicken soup. And, here’s another disgusting story for ya about her. She was sent home by her gyno because her (down there) was too disgusting for him to even deal with. Did you just throw up a little? Yea, she’s married AND has kids.

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  2. “There’s a girl I work with, she smells like chicken soup.”
    Sit next to her whenever you have a cold, I guess…
    The other Gynonightmare you mention gives fresh new meaning to the term “yeast infection”. Eeewww…

    ~mm

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  3. True story….

    So once again I was flying around Iraq, I do that, I am vastly interesting. But anyway, I am sitting next to the open door in a Blackhawk, on the end seat. 2 Iraqi guys, contractors, get in and face me in the opposing row of seats. I am in seat #1 facing their row of seats. They are in seats #2 and 4 of their row. Blades start to spin. I start to look out the door and daydream. Until an odor struck me. I had been on operations for a few days and in full gear. I admit I hadn’t showered in about 4 days and the gear makes one profusely sweat. I immediately thought, “holy shit, I need to hit the shower when I get back.” I lifted the arm, no stench. Opened my vest and no stench. I dismissed it until once again I was struck by it. I turned my head quick enough to notice the Iraqi in seat #2 adjusting his helmet with one arm raised.

    Yes, helicopter blades spinning, breeze, distance, etc. did not stop that stench. And I am surrounded by these people.

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  4. Dorman-
    I was initially tentative in posting this little diatribe. I thought that maybe it would be viewed as really offensive but then I thought, “Hey, these people are much more offensive.”
    I really don’t know how you do the Iraq thing day in and day out.
    Keep writing and blogging!
    My thoughts and prayers are with you. Be well, stay safe and thanks for the visit.

    best,
    michaelm

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  5. I don’t know how long it has been since you last wrote this but it CRACKED ME UP!! Thought maybe you needed a good laugh….is the smell coming back to you?? LOL

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