Sunday, July 18, 2004

Something woke me up in the middle of the night.

No, it wasn't a loud truck. Not the train. Nor a wild party in the neighborhood. Not the smell of something burning. But it was a smell. A foul, pugnant, offensive, overbearing smell.

It was a skunk!

Somewhere in the village, a skunk had sprayed its overbearing liquid. Possibly in defense when fronted with another animal. Or a car.

But as a result, everything smells like a skunk in here now. Including me. Gee, I can just imagine the looks on my fellow biker's faces when I show up for our 50 mile ride this morning. They'll probably leave me in a ditch enroute.

Hello. I will be your skunk for the day.