A Scented Memory

When I left Zach and Adam’s place tonight the smell of manure clogged my nostrils and infused into my brain. I was all the sudden at the dude ranch as a boy riding a horse named “Mo” – short for “Mo better to ride another horse.” I guess that’s what happens when your a 160 lb “Quaterpounder” 9 year-old: nobody wants you collapsing their horse.

Then, I got to the end of the block and inhaled a whiff of pure sewer…you know where that took me back to! I’ll offer $100 bucks to anyone capable of convincing Greaz I’m not the stupidest man alive. Truly.

Sewer Man Dan


2 responses to “A Scented Memory

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