Alright, remember, alcohol equals puke equals smelly mess equals nobody likes you.
Because you wear a uniform, a smelly uniform. . . and so you think you can be rude to me.
Gardening has just sort of grown on me. I find it therapeutic. And I like smelly things.
Let’s at least hope it’s not a gallu. Why? They’re not all bad, in a smelly, need-to-be-killed kind of way.
I was the night foreman of a galvanizing factory, which is hot and smelly and dirty and miserable.
My most smelly job was at a kennels and cattery, and I basically spent all day scooping poop.