Karmic Funk

The janitor just ruined the belt on his vacuum cleaner. It smells like Bigfoot's penis wearing a burnt fur condom (don't ask me how I know, just take my word for it). It's that unique combination of dead skin cells, singed hair, and melting rubber that only a vacuum cleaner can give you. Seriously, it smells like a smoldering tire set in the middle of a hog pen in August, or like a fire broke out in a colostomy ward the morning after Enchilada Wednesday. It once made a proud skunk cry itself to sleep out of sheer frustration.

This smell is so strong that it has opinions and a personality. It's a Sagittarius, likes to rollerblade, and isn't ready to settle down yet. It's pro life, votes Republican, lies on its taxes, supports the gun lobby, and believes the death penalty is a deterrent. It also roots for the Cubs, buys "girls gone wild" videos, and wets the bed.

At any rate, it smells bad in here, and will for a few more minutes. In the meantime, I'll just sit here gagging quietly to myself. What kind of karma could possibly have brought this smell to me? Was I an evil perfume maker in a previous life?

3 comments:

Nerdygirl said...

Someone make sure he's getting enough sleep please...you can tell he's deprived from the multiple analogies...

Big Gay Jim said...

He's back to working the early shift in BS 37. Plus the 7-9am bit that follows. I must say though, that after the week I had, reading this caused a laughing fit. I tried to read it to Kristen aloud as I read it for the first time, and kept cracking up every few words. I literally laughed so hard I cried. Thanks Rev. I needed that. A LOT.

Clayton said...

You make analogies like I refuse to now.


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