Friday, December 11, 2009
I have these new socks I bought to go along with my new work pants. I'm not sure what they're made of but I'm assuming it's some type of polyester blah-de-blah blend. Nothing natural, at any rate. Unfortunately, while they do match the colour of my pants perfectly, there's some kind of demonic interaction between my feet and these particular socks that result in a smell somewhat reminiscent of a decomposing goat carcass. A dead goat in a swamp. A dead goat in a warm swamp.
I didn't really notice at first, just assumed that my wife's over-sensitive olfactory senses were making something out of nothing. The other night though... I got home after a closing shift and after getting comfortable in front of the tv I started to notice something distinctly Pepe Le Peu-ish. I peeled off the offending cloth and tossed it across the room (where it promptly burnt through the floor like alien blood). It didn't help. I got under the covers figuring I could just ignore the smell since I really didn't feel like getting out of bed and washing them (or touching them for that matter). That didn't work either. Not that I could still smell them anymore, but I could feel them, sense their evil. It was like having the Eye of Sauron beneath my sheets but instead of a giant burning eye it was a giant eye burning foot.
There was no real point to this other than sharing my smelly feet with you. You're welcome.