It’s A Dirty Job, But…

My Aunt Jo is a nut – but in a good way. She likes to give me the business about leaning liberal versus conservative, but she does make a pretty mean batch of scalloped potatoes. So I guess that evens out in some weird, culinary/fascist kind of way.

Another thing she likes to do is say that I look like Mike Rowe from the Discovery Channel’s Dirty Jobs. And the only reason I bring this all up is because…

… my feet stink. I mean, they absolutely reek. They sweat like a mountain gorilla in heat, thus permeating the socks and the shoes. When I take my shoes off at the end of the day, the dogs in the neighborhood quit barking, our cable goes out, and the national terror level is bumped up a notch.

Yes, it is that bad.

So, with Dawn’s urging (if one can call a bull whip and a serrated knife “urging”), I bought a can of fast-acting Tinactin and Odor Eater insoles the other day. And here is how all this ties back in with Mike Rowe.

Most feet are generally offensive anyway, but I would hazard a guess that feet requiring charcoal-lined insoles are the worst. Yet, on the package is this comment:

Unconditional six month guarantee. If you are not completely satisfied, return insoles for a full refund to…

Holy shit. How would you like THAT job? Opening envelopes full of funk that even charcoal cannot diffuse?

Mr. Rowe, one of my many dopplegangers, I smell an episode…


2 thoughts on “It’s A Dirty Job, But…

  1. Dawn

    When my brother and I were little, dad would make Chris put plastic bags over his feet because dad could smell them all the way in the garage through the return vent if he took his shoes off. I thought Chris’ feet were the worst I ever smelled until you took your shoes off the other night. My gawd it was the most awful thing I have ever smelled. It made all the hair fall off my legs. Thats a plus I guess but DAMN. Yuk.

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