There's something in my apartment that doesn't smell right. And I can't find it.
That's kind of disconcerting.
I hope it's not me.
I better keep looking.
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I love my couch, in a completely platonic kind of way. If you were sitting on it, these are the kinds of things we may talk about. It would be better if you were actually here since I could make you a drink and put some tunes on - and that would be great, because I have impeccable taste in music - but, since you're not, this will have to do. So put on some good music, get comfortable, and enjoy.
10 comments:
I wasn't going to say anything on Tuesday night...
but I want to be the kind of friend that tells you if you have something stuck between your teeth.
the kind that says that your mascara is smudged.
the kind that offers that piece of gum when you need it most.
the kind that recommends another pair of pants when the ones you are wearing just don't match your shirt.
that's the kind of friend I want to be.
but I think you are ok, Darryl. You tend to smell nice.
Robyn
i wish you luck in discovering the source of the aroma.
if your toddler is anything like mine, there could be a well-hidden grilled cheese sandwich or sippy cup of milk stored just about anywhere.
who would have thought about keeping the car keys safe by stashing them in the electric kettle, after all?
carl.
Maybe it's that racy perfume you used on the couch to get the little chick's ink out.
Thanks, Robyn, for the vote of confidence. I will accept that you wouldn't say it if you didn't believe it, and sleep better tonight.
Other anonymous, that perfume smelled quite good, and, actually, I just bought Jean-Paul Gaultier's "le male", and it's pretty similar (for anyone reading along at home, the one she's referring to was Givenchy "Indecent"). A little spicy, a little like something you would want to eat, and, yeah, racy is not an entirely poor description. If only that was what I was smelling...
I'm concerned that it may be Carl who is on to something here, after all. The little chick is usually pretty good with food (though we tend to do food in a fairly controlled environment). What gets tricky is that she likes to help put things away, so if I have something sitting by the door where it doesn't usually go, she has been known to try and put it back. Three cheers for a clean home and a little chick who likes to be organized like her father, but it could have turned out poorly this time.
"Other anonymous"? Hey man, I'm THE anonymous. The REAL anonymous. Sometimes spelt in the Hungarian, "Anonymus".
Everybody ELSE can be "other". And given the fact that "Robyn" identified herself, calling me "other" was entirely superfluous.
'Nuff said. I hope your house stinks 'til you repent. And the Molson beer sucks too. Get some Belgian already.
Dear Hungarian Anonymous:
Anonymity comes with its own unique risks and rewards. This may just be one of the risks you run as long as you choose to remain under the dark shadow of your (not so anonymous) anonymity.
Now this is fun... who is messing with me? So long as Mr. Delamont keeps his anonymus people straight, I'm usually happy.
Meanwhile, has the source of the stinkiness been discovered yet? Did you try looking behind the door of that guest WC? :) Never know what the latest visitor might have left behind...
It's pretty funny... it's a writing style that's quite easy to recognize, so I know who it is.
As for the source... no. It just kind of went away, but I was never sure what caused it. Not sure if that's better or worse, actually.
I bet it was Jess messing with me.
Next December you'll probably find crusted yogurt somewhere obscure and that'll solve the mystery...
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