Arcanum, Redux
Gaaahhh, it was 98 degrees today and I was nearly barrelled over by the stink. (What else is new?) It wasn't the usual fermenting garbage/cabage/sewage smell mingling with that mysterious pork 'n' beans scent and concentrated hobo's wee. Today it was vomit combined hellishly with Girl Scout cookies from the factory down the street and maybe a smattering of wet dog and whatever steaming dead thing those seagulls in the supermarket parking lot were fighting over. Lovely. I swear this place is a veritable carnival of smells, most of which come straight from Satan's backside.
I guess English settlers decided 400 years ago that Jamestown just plain didn't smell bad enough so they toddled up the river and founded Stinktown. Makes me wonder of the stench is natural and has always been here and will be here long after Stinktown is wiped off the map in a nuclear holocaust. It probably had some creepy-ass Native American name that meant Funk-of-A-Thousand-Dead-Polecats and the settlers translated it wrong. "I name thee Stinketowne!" "Yay!" "Hey nonny nonny!"
Gawd. Where is that nuclear holocaust when you need one?
Whatever.
Yesterday my brother didn't seem to think a mechanical brass fish-shaped submarine in a computer game was a good reason to do a dorky little happy-dance. Look, damn you!
See, coolest thing, ever. It even has decorative Victorian ironwork on the side, dang it all.
