2011, by powderjunky

Like Pamela Anderson's bosoms soon reaching her knee's, it's just a matter of time before your mobile home starts to reek of an ungodliness only reserved for Hitler and BP. It starts with a slow secretion from your ski boots as your socks have been over saturated by moistness and can no longer act as an effective barrier. Then your long underwear begins to slowly ferment into a fine aroma of left over salmon or fine cheese. Before you know it, the infectious stink of champions has migrated to every nook and cranny to which there is no escape.

Somewhere down the line your sense of smell will become accustom to the odor, leaving you to wallow away cluelessly in your pile of stink. You know it's time to take action when hitch hikers will refuse a ride in -10 degree weather on a desolate road in the middle of no-where Idaho.

You're going to want to find a laundry mat or a friend you don't really care for, because when the tumble cycle kicks in, it will be like when Gozer releases all the ghosts from their containment system. Use a lot of bleach or Jack Daniels to sterilize it all, and bam, back to normal and on to more important things, like figuring out how much crack George Lucas was on when he made the Star Wars prequels.

RIP Ryan Hawks- Fatally Injured in ...

STOP THE DRILLING in the Wyoming Range