there is a dead skunk outside my window.
this is not necessarily true.
perhaps there is a dying skunk or a perfectly live one, but one thing is for sure: his insides are on the outside.
whatever it is that makes a skunk skunk is permiating the air so heavily that i might as well have my nostrils plugged into somebody's @&&hole.
this is awful.
there you are, reading a blog from the safety of your sweet smelling abode and here i am, trapped in a prison of scent, going out of my mind. this is the kind of smell that, if it were a sound, would have begged van gogh to cut his own ear off.
¿what would i use to cut off my nose? i suppose a pair of scissors from the kitchen. i might could use one of my roommate's cooking knives, but that seems a tad bit rude. a pair of scissors might altogether go wrong as well.
¿how much of a nose must be cut off before you can no longer smell? i wonder that about ears too. i feel like if i had the external of my ear removed, that i could still hear, but that it would be much less productive hearing. which is to say that i could probably still hear, but not really pick out the specific direction from where the sound would be coming.
not hearing would be awful, for if not, i could not listen to all this awesome music.
i'm going to end on that note. particularly - Wyclef Jean's "Mona Lisa" from his carnival album. Do buy and listen to it, cause it kicks much @$$ like my house currently smells like somebody busted it.
"mitch stick" for some reason, this shape popped into my head while i was driving home from dinner last night.