Foul, Vile, Nasty

OMG!!! I know I am sensitive to smells, but come on!

On Saturday (or maybe Friday - I am trying to block it out) I went to the grocery store. I was walking down the toy isle (looking for a girly birthday gift) and a stench stopped me in my tracks. It was similar to the sewage smell I experienced a few weeks ago. I looked around (why?! seriously! Like I had to know where it was coming from) only to see a package from the meat market. It was stuffed into the wrapping paper section. Label? Catfish. Vile, nasty. Pukishly, I made my way to a couple of employees of said grocery store and made them aware of the stench. How could someone miss that on a floor sweep? OH! You mean they were not taking care of their jobs?! Shock!

Tonight, I fixed dinner at Dad's house. Why? So I didn't have to clean my kitchen, after all. And, because I LOVE Dad's kitchen. Everything has a home, and usually lives there. Back on track. As I am getting ready to take Caleb and I home, my darling brother lets out a sound that can only mean one thing. A green fog slowly takes over the dining room. As I run out of the room, dry heaving and trying to keep down the Bar-B-Que pulled pork sandwiches, I yell, "Foul! Vile! Nasty!" All I hear coming from the other end of the house is a vile, evil laughter - the kind only brothers who recently flatulated can.