Thursday, January 16, 2014


Being a fun guy like me can be a tad risky around here since all of our bathrooms are stocked with antibacterial soap, alcohol wipes, and highly polished mirrors. Who really wants to wake up first thing in the morning to sniff n’ see a wild-haired colorless monad staring back at you, so my wife arms herself with a cross and a bottle of Febreeze. At least for now the shock is tempered since I still grin with most of my real teeth and any that are missing were replaced long ago with caramel popcorn hulls for a near perfect Hillbilly smile.
Oh sure I could employ some industrial waterproof adhesive or pasty Pomade to do something about my perpetually sweaty bed-headed cowlick coiffure. I could also probably find a toga or two-a to wear that is wholly hole-free, or at the very least made crease-less by a hot rock to hide my wrinkled wide hide. True I guess too, I could hose off a little more often and try to embrace the grace of society’s commercialized perfumery rather than gag violently at its long-lingering stench in excess of my own.

Actually for most folks repulsion is something they avoid like the plague but for me, similar to a skunk’s self defenses, I like to wallow in my own scent of imperfections and unique wafts of flaws. What better way to fend off people who desire to engage me in the mall or while shopping for a warehouse barrel of Beano at the club discount store? As a rule on the rare occasion I do venture out among the living it isn’t to talk to strangers but rather to restock the bunker, or treat my spouse to a luxuriously erudite dining flight of faire from our local sticky-floor Mickey D’s to share.

So that bedraggled bed-wetted n’ walking dead headed homeless-looking dude you shun while you shop isn’t always as bad off as you think. Those unlaced shoes and that matted thatch all may be clues to a ruse that they live by their own rules; and society’s playbook which most of us see is simply not up to their cup of pee. Anyway since it’s cold outside, take solace and know that at least in my case, few plumes of fumes that surround will wreak -  ‘cause that’s just excess self eSTEAM I leak.


  1. I wonder if you can esteam clean yourself.

  2. This confession of personal Smelliness shows why
    those former laudator comments from all those pretty
    women readers are absent. Babess love sweet odors
    as much as they deplore foul ones !. Are these
    self-deprecating blogs a plot from your wife to keep
    you all for herself? And maybe to show how much
    of YOU she can take???