The Air In Here

Jesus christ woman, I can smell you from here. I don't know what you've been doing but whatever it is you need to take a shower. Or four. Pronto, capiche? You know I love you but seriously, what have you eaten, a dead baby? Holy dinah, darlin' you are not fit for public consumption. Oh! Oh oh oh oh! Put your shoes back on. PUT YOUR SHOES BACK ON! For the love of all that's holy and I include among that our glorious, sacred, if somewhat left of center, occasionally anachronistic union, put 'em back on your feet and then take them off in an airtight, sealed chamber where they shall promptly be incinerated. Can you not smell that? How can you NOT smell that. How can the entire neighbourhood not smell that? It's worse than the worst ridiculously over priced cheese you could imagine. Worse than that runny Belgian cheese you brought home at christmas! Phew. They let you train in those? In a group? You didn't gas the entire class with the stench? Tell me, I'm sure half the participants walked out halfway through claiming stomach issues, or at least relocated to the back of the class. I know you love them, honey, I do, but they're butt ugly, too. I mean, I could tell that from the moment you squeezed each of your individual toes into the freaky looking things but now, wow, geez, the smell. It's something fierce. Is that part of the allure, hmmm? Do they advertise that alongside the whole paleo~barefoot~back to our ancestors~technology because someone should inform them that it's probably not an enviable selling point. Unless of course the same company manufactures foot deodorizer by the truckload. Oh, I get it. All of you crazy fitness freaks are wearing them so you're all oblivious to the rankness in the room. The noxiousness is part of the initiation to the cult! I get it!! I will say it again, you KNOW I love you but I will not even consider getting all up in your business with those shoes near you let alone anywhere in the house. You complain about my hockey gear, well lemme tell you, that race has been run and won. Uh huh, no doubt, you lost hands down. Or won if you're being awarded the gold of stink. Seriously, I can't breathe. Just- whew.

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