I just had such a Roseanne Rosannadanna moment. I got on the elevator at my office to go downstairs, and it totally smelled like ass. I thought I was gonna die. I thought, “Oh, *please *don’t let anyone else get on.” So of course, the very next floor, the door opens and this Very Handsome Man gets on.
I wanted to say, “I *swear *to you the elevator smelled like this when I got on! It wasn’t me!” And the more I thought about him going, “Hey, Roseanne Rosannadanna, this elevator smells like ass–whaddaya tryin’ to do, make me sick?” the more I started to laugh, which of course only made things worse.
Oh, well, it just goes to show you, it’s always somethin’.
See, thats when you should have stuck both your hands under your armpits, then pulled out and sniffed them long and hard. To show the guy you have some class.
If it makes you feel any better, last week my dog farted in somebody else’s car while we were carpooling. We had to roll all the windows down and it was, wow, one of the most amazing farts I have ever smelled. It was humiliating. He was proud.