Sorry to spring that on you. I suppose it’s as good a subject of discussion as anything else I’ve ever written about on here. I am currently trying to proofread a press release about window blinds, so obviously my mind is bound to wander. I don’t remember high-fiving any hippies during my walk to work, and I definitely didn’t wear this dress shirt to Amherst recently, so why do my hands reek of patchouli? This isn’t a rhetorical question, people. You may explicate.
The only people I shook hands with today were the plumbers who came to replace a zone valve in my building. I think it goes without saying – patchouli is to plumbers what an under-counter carbon filter is to Chris Barron. So the mystery continues. Stay tuned for the weigh-in tomorrow. It’s not going to be pretty.
did you pinch ani difranco’s bum recently? that’d do it.
She played a club I used to manage near Toronto about 10 years ago. The dressing room stank for days afterwards. I don’t know if it was her, or the wannabe Traveling Wilburys she had backing her up. But that smell will resonate in my memory. A darn good suggestion, whoever you are.
I had a similar experience recently. I came to the conclusion that the stench came from a handrail of a stairwell in a predominantly hippy occupied building.