On ghost farts.
And now, gentle readers, an anecdote about a funny smell.
To be candid, for the last few days, my room has smelled really odd. Did a mouse die in the ceiling, I wondered? Truly, I know I need to do laundry, but this is a bit much. It sort of smells like... well... kind of like rotten egg salad farts, actually. How appetizing. (And don't look at me like you're appalled and would have no idea what an egg salad fart smells like. You totally do.)
I looked under my bed, I sniffed around the wastebasket, I started eyeing my boyfriend suspiciously-- basically, I did everything I could to pinpoint the source of stankage, to no avail.
It wasn't until I was searching for my backup pair of chain nose pliers in my jewelry drawer that I was smacked in the face by an extraordinary whiff of skunk ass. Liver of sulfur. Right. I'd totally forgotten I'd bought some to play around with oxidizing my own jewelry.
Ten minutes later, the tin has been wrapped in several layers of plastic, and the phantom phart is no more!
To be candid, for the last few days, my room has smelled really odd. Did a mouse die in the ceiling, I wondered? Truly, I know I need to do laundry, but this is a bit much. It sort of smells like... well... kind of like rotten egg salad farts, actually. How appetizing. (And don't look at me like you're appalled and would have no idea what an egg salad fart smells like. You totally do.)
I looked under my bed, I sniffed around the wastebasket, I started eyeing my boyfriend suspiciously-- basically, I did everything I could to pinpoint the source of stankage, to no avail.
It wasn't until I was searching for my backup pair of chain nose pliers in my jewelry drawer that I was smacked in the face by an extraordinary whiff of skunk ass. Liver of sulfur. Right. I'd totally forgotten I'd bought some to play around with oxidizing my own jewelry.
Ten minutes later, the tin has been wrapped in several layers of plastic, and the phantom phart is no more!