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Tuesday, May 12, 2015

Things that make me feel ill

                          The latest in a series of rants that began before the internet was created. 

Ok so these are First World Problems
1) Halitosis
More specifically, someone else's bad breath. 
I had a real blast of this yesterday on the train home. I was so happy to get a seat, given that the majority of the time we are packed in closer than incestuous sardines in a hillbilly can, but at what cost? At what cost, indeed. For I was next to a smartly-dressed young man with the worst breath in the world. It was so bad I had to sit with my back to him. I opened the window. I had to take off my cardigan because I was overheating with the need to puke. I sprayed my scarf with scent and held it over my face. I don't even know how he could have managed to gut-breath the carriage, given that he rarely opened his gingivitis-beriddled mouth. Even the flowers printed onto the lady's dress opposite wilted. When he got off the train at Streatham, we literally breathed a sigh of relief. Except for the girl across from me, who was dead.

2) Papaya
Nasty little ass fruit
This evil little fruit. Look at its innocent little face. I've had it in drinks before, I've enjoyed the scent of my body butters and hand lotions. Nothing prepared me for the satanic devastation it caused to my tastebuds. It smelled so nice! The juices I have been drinking seemed so rich and nourishing. So when I got the chance for some fresh papaya at a five-star hotel in Thailand, I thought my breakfasting dreams had come true. I loaded my plate with delicious fruit and returned, starry-eyed, to my table and prepared to savour the delights. What a load of ass. Literally. It tasted like ass. I tried it twice, to be sure. It resembled an ass's ass. The ass of a donkey. The sour, vomit-laden assfruit of a dead donkey. The supporating puss-filled colon of a putrefying mule carcass. I suspect my rotting-gummed friend above has been licking papaya. 

3) Farts
Other people's, of course. Mine smell like roses. Or KFC. Sometimes both. I don't understand why people do not seem to enjoy the wind of my labours in the same way that I do. They cannot appreciate art, evidently. However other people's dropped wind is the breath of the devil and all his hellish minions. It is the foul air that emanates from the pit of sulphur and lime, the demesne of all that is wrong. And when it happens on a train, a tube, or in a hospital waiting room (oh that one was the worst - death farts from hideously ill people) ... ugh. But the very very worst, the Titan of all worseness.... the fart of a cat. Just take my word for it.

4) Mint Choc-Chip Icecream

Have you ever licked between the toes of an ageing, tuberculoid polar bear? No? Well try some mint choc-chip icecream and enjoy a similar experience (best to hit the polar bear with a tranquiliser first). After tasting this delicacy, hit yourself with a tranq gun. It will take away the burning pain in your mouth and make everything seem good again. Food colourings, creme de menthe, a frozen putrescence. And that's just what's in a polar bear's toejam. This 'delicacy' even has its own Wikipedia page. Disgusting.

5) Death socks
Socks worn by other people. Socks that have not only been worn by other people, all day, but then end up on your side of the sofa. Socks that you realise, half-way through a film, are stroking your arm. Your bare arm. Touching the skin. Your skin. Dear saints have mercy. Also to fear are the socks being pinged off a pungent foot and waved around near your face. PROTECT YOUR EYES! Protect them from the foot-bogies that will ping off into your mouth, if it is open.


lilith said...

When visiting my ex with his subsequent partner I observed with enthusiasm that the good lady had cured said ex's foot/sock problem! The house was fragrant! She replied sadly, no, the problem persisted, but she'd invested in a lead lined laundry basket. The things we tolerate for love!

Mermaid of Moorgate said...

A lead-lined laundry basket, eh? Sounds like I could use something similar. Although I've heard that lead can give you poisoning. Not that anyone would eat a laundry basket, but....

lilith said...

I think it was probably air tight and robust rather than lead lined but you get the sense of threat the unconstrained socks provoked...

I don't mean to be smug but my husband smells like brioche.

Gorilla Bananas said...

Never call a cat's fart a "pussy fart". That's a capital offence in the jungle.

Mermaid of Moorgate said...

No way. Jealous! Mr Mermaid is a little like the inside of a garbage pail

lilith said...

He's a very lucky man x

lord beast of w9 said...

i've reached a state of pureness
only frankincense for me
await the holy purity that I septimus blat am about to release into the world
business will be conducted strictly at weekends
sunday plotting
mondays revenge
tuesday depravity
wednesday gluttony
thursday brooding in velvet and injecting drugs
FIREDAY arson and a high protein shake before a bit of bare knuckle boxing
Saturn day horror scopes and potions
that guarantee what you desire when combined with my candles and incantations giving solutions to obtaining your unrequited desires

Simoney ill send you some shower gel and nepalese socks for the problem you are having with the ionian goat herd
Tust me I have powers

organicbeasteeye nowes best said...

my shit stinks of aloe vera , issey miyake and frankincense with leaf of base metal tantulum and bay leaves and a hint of cobalt
good for the skin, muscle development encephalopathy and pleurisy
stupid simoney you worship the wrong lord

Mermaid of Moorgate said...

Beast... did you write this perchance on a thursday, when you were brooding in velvet?