Even on the most blustery cold day, the offending stench seeps through their parkas and boiled wool jackets. Trapped in a gondola once I thought I would die from the B.O. of the other passengers. People, if I can smell it though your layers and layers of ski clothes, you've got a serious problem. In this case I fear it was the triple-wammy of not bathing, no deodorant, and not washing clothes.

Washingtonian living in Germany, which is really cute (except when it's not.)
I tend to get cranky very easily. And I'm a BIG complainer. Consider yourself warned.
Currently reading: The Information by Martin Amis
Just finished: Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov