Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Co-Worker Killer

Fish Tacos.

That's the only thing that I can come up with to describe it.

And while in all honesty, I don't know what fish tacos really smell like, I know the way fish smells and I know how tacos smell. Those 2 ingredients coupled with a touch of human funk and a pinch of perfume. That's the best way I can describe my anonymous co-worker's odor.

"Everybody has an off day." is how I excused it the first time I noticed. But her isht is like Bad Boy Records "Can't Stop, Won't Stop" and its KILLING ME! On my word, I can smell her with my back turned. I feel like my nostrils are losing a game of slapboxing that they didn't ask to play.

And until this morning, I just thought this was a feminine whoa. No sir! The oral hygiene needs to come up about 8 points for real. It's bad enough that you're killing us softly with the fish tacos but now you want our nose hairs to fall out from the dragon breath??? Not cool, mama.

That just ain't right.

Being fair, maybe she has a problem that's more health-related and less menacing to society?

And she's a cool person too.

Too bad.

Febreeze should consider expanding into perfume and breath mint business.

Maybe even the feminine hygiene industry.

Or maybe they can create the first ever "Butt Mints". Hey, that's a pretty good idea!

Butt Mints: Closing the Gap on the Odor of Your Crack. (Damn, I'm smart!)

Wow, who knew?

Febreeze has legs. I should invest.

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