It stank pretty bad, of course: manure was caked all over the wagon. But we were free. Right then I was elated with a sense of how faithful God is to his promises; I was free, and I was smiling joyfully on a manure wagon. As we ambled along, I laughed to myself when I thought of God's sense of humor in delivering us that way. Even today, the smell of manure reminds me of freedom.
Politically, I thought [Margaret Thatcher] stank. I think she had a real fight on her hands to get where she got, but I don't believe that her conviction was for the greater good.
Do I Stank or was it already Stanky in Here?
The three words that best describe you are as follows, and I quote: stink. Stank. Stunk.