In Bad Odour
Posted on Monday, September 4, 2006I spilled milk in my vehicle last week. Not deliberately. I didn’t pour milk on the carpet on purpose, or anything like that. I didn’t, just like I didn’t deliberately sprinkle toast-crumbs on my bed-sheets. I wouldn’t do such a thing. No, it’s just that a milk bottle leaked on the way home and soaked into the carpet so that now my personal transportation smells like a fucking slaughterhouse.
What am I going to do? It fucking stinks. It’s awful. It’s so bad, the dogs gag.
What the fuck am I going to do?
This is terribly unfair. I don’t do anything. Nothing horrible goes on in my motor. I don’t abduct and murder Australian tourists. I don’t keep illicit sheep in the boot, like some I could name. I don’t secretly play Celine Dion CDs in the middle of the night. I don’t give lifts to tinkers. And yet, I’m the one whose car smells as if the Yorkshire Ripper had it out for a test drive.
Isn’t life very unfair?
Stumble it!
September 5th, 2006
Next time the caseys call, ask ‘em how to get the stink fiNALLY out..