Personal Hygiene
There comes a point at which your hygiene becomes less your problem and more everyone else's:
My old school nurse never seemed to wash - instead she wrapped herself in crepe bandages from the first aid kits. The smell was beyond pungent. If you got ill at school, it was better to suffer than try and explain symptoms whilst only breathing out.
When she was eventually 'let go',they had to strip the wallpaper in her office to get rid of the lingering odour.
How scuzzy have you got? Or, failing that, how bad have people you know got?
( , Thu 22 Mar 2007, 12:40)
There comes a point at which your hygiene becomes less your problem and more everyone else's:
My old school nurse never seemed to wash - instead she wrapped herself in crepe bandages from the first aid kits. The smell was beyond pungent. If you got ill at school, it was better to suffer than try and explain symptoms whilst only breathing out.
When she was eventually 'let go',they had to strip the wallpaper in her office to get rid of the lingering odour.
How scuzzy have you got? Or, failing that, how bad have people you know got?
( , Thu 22 Mar 2007, 12:40)
« Go Back
The most unimaginable stench...
This happened in the gents' toilets at Cannon Street Station about ten years ago:
There I was, minding my own business and having a pee into a urinal, as were several other respectful-looking commuter types.
Down the stairs comes a tramp; a proper tramp as well: wearing six jackets, one on top of the other; the outer one shiny with stains. His hair and beard were long, matted and greasy and his skin was brown with layer upon layer of grime.
He stood in the middle of the toilets (the actual room; not a cubicle), dropped his trousers and appeared to simply lose control of all his bodily functions at once.
Standing with his trousers round his knees, he proceeded to shit, really runny shit into his trousers and onto the floor. At the same time, he pissed and puked: three foul-smelling outpourings at once, over himself and the floor. It wasn't a particularly nice site either.
Once he'd finished, he pulled his trousers up and stumbled out. He didn't clean himself at all: just left covered in shit, piss and puke.
Bless my dad*
*Not really my dad: inserted for humourage reasons.
( , Thu 22 Mar 2007, 14:24, Reply)
This happened in the gents' toilets at Cannon Street Station about ten years ago:
There I was, minding my own business and having a pee into a urinal, as were several other respectful-looking commuter types.
Down the stairs comes a tramp; a proper tramp as well: wearing six jackets, one on top of the other; the outer one shiny with stains. His hair and beard were long, matted and greasy and his skin was brown with layer upon layer of grime.
He stood in the middle of the toilets (the actual room; not a cubicle), dropped his trousers and appeared to simply lose control of all his bodily functions at once.
Standing with his trousers round his knees, he proceeded to shit, really runny shit into his trousers and onto the floor. At the same time, he pissed and puked: three foul-smelling outpourings at once, over himself and the floor. It wasn't a particularly nice site either.
Once he'd finished, he pulled his trousers up and stumbled out. He didn't clean himself at all: just left covered in shit, piss and puke.
Bless my dad*
*Not really my dad: inserted for humourage reasons.
( , Thu 22 Mar 2007, 14:24, Reply)
« Go Back