Hockey season is firmly underway. I am in Idaho Falls with Her Royal Highness and some other hockey chickies.
The girls are doing Podunk proud on the ice. But I am concerned that our Priority Club Hotel will charge us extra thanks to the odor from HRH’s hockey bag that have permeated our formerly lovely lodging.
Words fail to capture the heinous aroma wafting out of this bag. Little Bird, one of our hockey chickies, moaned, “It makes my nostrils burn.” And she is not kidding. I don’t know whether to leave a tip for housekeeping or oxygen.
And maybe some wallpaper paste to help with the peeling.
I have trolled for sponsors before, but this time I am gravely serious. If you are the maker of an odor reducing substance, I need you man. And Febreze, you need not apply. You do nothing. You are worse than the Glade Tower of Old Jello Smelly.