Dad here; bad news at the Casa; at exactly 0328, we were rudely awakened when a train bearing toxic waste derailed in our neighborhood; haz mat teams were scrambled from all the neighboring states in an effort to contain this foul mess before it could get into the jet stream and possibly cause an international diplomatic incident by contaminating the ecosystems of nations around the globe.
Or it might have been that a thousand nervous skunks suffering from irritable bowel syndrome were holding their semi annual support group meeting in my bedroom, and decided to waft a simultaneous air biscuit.
Or more accurately, I awoke to find myself at the south end of a northbound Charlie, and she had unleashed a silent but oh so deadly barrage directly into my face; a cloyingly sweet mixture of cotton candy, a wastewater treatment plant, and the scent of the devil’s armpit.
The stench was so vile that my eyes started watering, then I realized that they were not watering, but that i was crying, which quickly progressed to sobbing uncontrollably. The upside is that I will never be congested again, as my sinuses are now as clear as if I had snorted an entire gram of Drano, the downside is that I’m sure my tastebuds have been permanently affected, and I’ll never be able to appreciate corn dogs, fried pickles, or Cinnabons again.