I can smell things. I'm super-sensitive towards smells. I could be one of those sommeliers I bet!
OK, maybe not that good.
I'm not good at subtle.
But I can nearly throw up whenever I smell awful things. (like, say a dog having a shit-splosion in a closet)
Or, like this morning, one of our cats apparently gave birth to a live pile of shit, which then was impregnated by another shit in the catbox, which then gave birth to baby shits that smelled so awful that other shits in the other catboxes were arranging a protest and maybe were going to unionize against the new shits that smelled so bad.
Did any of that make sense?
I don't know but I sure did gag a lot this morning.
I had to gag really quietly because I decided it was a present for my beautiful, understanding fiance who must never read this blog post.
We need a cat shit eatin' dog.
Or an infant, I guess. Will they eat cat poo? Child Protective Services probably frowns on that, the nazis.
The worst part about my
I literally smell cat shit on me.
I know it 's a complex because last week it was:
Monday: cat shit
Tuesday: my own poo (and I CHECKED, none on me or my clothes! Not even a brown streak in the BOXERS OF DHOOM)
Friday: armpit sweat (which might have been legit)
I just "pick up" smells by osmosis and my brain decides "yes, you smell like that".
The only solution is to move somewhere where these smells are acceptable.
France, here I come!