Near-Death by Excessive Application of Perfume

People who spray perfume/deodorant on themselves like they are spraying insecticide/air freshener/tear gas, why? Just, why???

There I was, strolling along the empty streets today morning, listening to the early birds chirping as they caught their early worms and generally feeling super proud of myself for getting to town this early. This dude approaching from the other direction and I think to myself, ah, another early riser. He’s like 50m away. I sense a sweet smell hitting my nostrils and figure it’s one of the flowers in the vicinity so I just thank mother nature for adding extra sweetness to this already great morning.

As the dude comes closer, the smell becomes stronger and the hairs in my nostrils start swaying in protest. It’s then that I notice that there are no flowers in the vicinity. As the dude comes even closer, I feel tears come to my eyes and I clutch my chest as the oxygen in my lungs is slowly displaced by the fumes. By the time he passes me, I’m on one knee, desperately gasping for whatever little air is in the environs while using one hand to wipe away the tears and mucus that are now free flowing while the other hand is gesturing for him to walk as far away from me as he could.

He must have thought I was a street beggar, or that I’d just received news that someone very close to me had passed on coz he walked by me while giving me a pitiful look. Me I thought I was being assassinated by the Russians. They were finally onto my master plan to turn the world’s most resilient socialist state into a capitalist one by introducing the Rolex into their diet and then opening a chain of street restaurants. I was done for kabisa!! Ambition kills!

I must have collapsed coz my next memory was coming to with a big breath to suck in as much oxygen as I could. I looked around and saw the dude disappearing into the distance. There was an eerie silence around, like the angel of death had just passed through. Turns out he kind of had because all around me, I could see dead birds and other small creatures. So much for early birding. The only reason I’d survived is probably because of my physically fit lungs. Finally, all that shisha smoking had proved to be useful

My point is, I don’t care if your brand is made out of angels sweat, there is a reason why the saying ‘too much of anything is bad’ exists! Now imagine if you get stuck in a lift with such an individual? Sala puleesa ba guy. It kind of makes the rest of us wonder what stench you be trying to hide with that much overkill.

Written by Byagaba Roland

Roland is a random badman. He suffers from Mephobia.

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