- 39,107
- Application hell
- MP-Omnis
Today was a bad day. I was in organic chemistry lecture and had the great misfortune of having a stinky person show up late and sit directly behind me. I could not breathe for the whole hour. I could not take notes because I had to hold my hand up to my face in a futile attempt to attenuate his nefarious stench.
Most of the indians and punjabs I know are at least decent and do not give off a smell. In fact, quite a bit of them take care to have a pleasant scent about them. Therefore, stinky Indian, why is it that you carry such an abominable odor? What’s wrong with you? You are the reason the stinky-indian stereotype exists. There are millions of good-smelling Indians living in the western world (mmm... ok, maybe thousands), yet somehow the gaseous waste emanating from your body makes up for all of them. You are offensive. You disgust everyone. You are a hazard to society.
And for all of your heinousness, stinky Indian, I’ve come to pity your situation. While sitting in class with your loathsome musk crawling through my sinuses, I soon found myself desensitized to any other smell. I realized your sense of smell is analogous to the moral sensibility of children raised to commit genocide. There is only one pungent, lurid stench-- only one reality. I would say you have been brain-washed by your own nose, but it’s apparent that you haven’t been anything-washed... ever.
If I must take some good out of this experience, I have to say that I gained a very strong appreciation for something easily taken for granted. Breathe your air with gratitude, folks. Don’t pinch your nose if, for example, you drive by a pasture with freshly-manured grounds. Instead, collect that air in a jar and save it for when you encounter a stinky fellow. The lesser of two evils might not work in politics, but I think it’s a pretty compelling choice for this situation.
As an added bonus, I noticed an acuity of scent upon the return to fresh air. Like the epiphany of Helen Keller, my nose freed itself from the crematory tandoor in which it was imprisoned for that dark, odoriferous hour. I smelled the rain and the trees, and it was nice. Then I got in my car and picked up the scent of rain-soaked upholstery, the standing water in the spare tire compartment, and the farts embedded into the driver’s seat. Sensitivity turned into vulnerability. Stinky Indian, you really bring out the worst for everyone. I’ve never experienced a compound level of stink like that. You cultivate a miasma that enduringly torments those burdened by your proximity. You are truly a guru-- an evil guru-- of olfactory repugnance.
So the question I’m asking the rest of you is how do we fix this? Someone should start a campaign to get rid of stinky people. In the mean time, there has to be another solution. I will evade when possible. But when you can’t evade, what do you do? How do you politely tell someone that they smell like everything bad in the world?
Most of the indians and punjabs I know are at least decent and do not give off a smell. In fact, quite a bit of them take care to have a pleasant scent about them. Therefore, stinky Indian, why is it that you carry such an abominable odor? What’s wrong with you? You are the reason the stinky-indian stereotype exists. There are millions of good-smelling Indians living in the western world (mmm... ok, maybe thousands), yet somehow the gaseous waste emanating from your body makes up for all of them. You are offensive. You disgust everyone. You are a hazard to society.
And for all of your heinousness, stinky Indian, I’ve come to pity your situation. While sitting in class with your loathsome musk crawling through my sinuses, I soon found myself desensitized to any other smell. I realized your sense of smell is analogous to the moral sensibility of children raised to commit genocide. There is only one pungent, lurid stench-- only one reality. I would say you have been brain-washed by your own nose, but it’s apparent that you haven’t been anything-washed... ever.
If I must take some good out of this experience, I have to say that I gained a very strong appreciation for something easily taken for granted. Breathe your air with gratitude, folks. Don’t pinch your nose if, for example, you drive by a pasture with freshly-manured grounds. Instead, collect that air in a jar and save it for when you encounter a stinky fellow. The lesser of two evils might not work in politics, but I think it’s a pretty compelling choice for this situation.
As an added bonus, I noticed an acuity of scent upon the return to fresh air. Like the epiphany of Helen Keller, my nose freed itself from the crematory tandoor in which it was imprisoned for that dark, odoriferous hour. I smelled the rain and the trees, and it was nice. Then I got in my car and picked up the scent of rain-soaked upholstery, the standing water in the spare tire compartment, and the farts embedded into the driver’s seat. Sensitivity turned into vulnerability. Stinky Indian, you really bring out the worst for everyone. I’ve never experienced a compound level of stink like that. You cultivate a miasma that enduringly torments those burdened by your proximity. You are truly a guru-- an evil guru-- of olfactory repugnance.
So the question I’m asking the rest of you is how do we fix this? Someone should start a campaign to get rid of stinky people. In the mean time, there has to be another solution. I will evade when possible. But when you can’t evade, what do you do? How do you politely tell someone that they smell like everything bad in the world?
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