Baked a$$

HOLY HELL.

If you're going to recycle your gitch a few times, at least have the courtesy not to bake your ass stank on a vinyl seat for 45 minutes and then get up where your ass bacon wafts its aroma in my face.

I know this is gross. I know this is graphic, but that's what the ass-end of another passenger smelled like as he got up to stand in the aisle as we were pulling into Oshawa tonight. His ass was right in my face as I sat in an outside seat. I actually had my mouth open, mid-sentence in conversation with my friend Jill, when the first waft hit, so I got to taste it, too.

If it wasn't what I think it was then he must have sat in dog crap at work. Or he put his bag down on a toilet. Either way, it was disgusting.