Please stop slamming Salems in the bathroom right before you tenderly and gently wash our hair. If we wanted stripper smell to permeate our oxygen, well, we'd go somewhere else.
And don't ask us questions, either. We were trying to breathe through our mouth. Saying, "No thanks" when you offer us a cheese platter and coffee meant we had to breathe through our nose, which meant back to stripper smell.
(For the record, there are two kinds of stripper smell.
One is sweet and easy, like a warm Spring afternoon, sort of inviting and sort of expensive to those charmed by its tough yet hot exterior, and daddy-issues ways.
Then there's salon hair washer lady, who smelled sort of like Scranton meets a 1936 USO Rally meets an ashtray meets the end-of-the-night floor at a dirty, shady pub).
Oof, we say. Oof.
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7 comments:
Have you done a lot of research on the difference in stripper smells?
Yes, he has. But he ommited the bubble gum stripper smell.
What's with the knock on Scranton?!!??!!?
1. Not since the oldern days.
2. Ah, yes. Good times.
3. It's easier to type (and relate to) than "Wilkes-Barre" or "Sunbury" or "Dover."
Next Up...
The OMS Olfactory Strip Club Tour
*Hey*
I know that smell. It's the combo of body spray, body glitter and a little bit of liquor that says, "I'm not your wife, I'm not your girl, but here's a tittie fer ya, just for being you.
Now stuff a dollar in my buttcrack."
A Haiku for Jim:
Buttcrack please no speak
body glitter we don't know
Don't say tittie, too.
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