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?
Karmic Funk
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3 comments:
Someone make sure he's getting enough sleep please...you can tell he's deprived from the multiple analogies...
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.
You make analogies like I refuse to now.
yovrgzbk
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