Friday, 29 May 2009
Feet of an Athlete
*Okay, I wrote this about a week ago, and you could probably tell that I was overly pumped about this (hence the absurd amount of embellishments, comparisons, etcetera) at that time.
However, most of the energy has dissipated now, and I am too lazy to go and edit the over 1500 words I wrote some time ago, but since I did not want all that ranting to go to waste, I posted it anyways. So, enjoy
Gross… 1 word to describe the divine reason I needed to create this post…
Foot odour… 2 words…
Shared bathroom sucks… 3 words…
Manage your personal hygiene!... 4
Girls don’t all smell nice… 5.
Okay, let’s get on with it before I spiral out of control into a counting/frenzied raving lunatic.
In recent times (and this is rather vague seeing as my perception of time is horrible), it has come to my attention that something just didn’t sit or rather smell right. Although I do not pride myself as a hygiene freak, I am no dirty butt either. Odour is certainly not a trait people would associate with me… More so with my diversion to sports… Even with my running around playing truant back in school, I still don’t smell and I don’t use deodorant. Frankly that concept was alien to me until college, and even then, I bought my first one under peer pressure (of sorts), which I really did not need…
Sure, I did have some encounters with odour issues; Thank you puberty, weeklong socks and in-grown toenails, and that’s where this annoyance started. You see, due to the few years (more like 2, since I couldn’t stand it any longer) with my smelly feet (well, it wasn’t that bad…), I have grown familiar with the unpleasant scent of my piggies sty. One does not forget the unforgiving odour released from one’s feet that could potentially cause embarrassment and alienation. And it sticks, really sticks to one’s aroma sensory database.
So why did I just bring up an issue so past its expiration date? Why did I painstakingly write those odd 250 words above? If the foremost ranting did not already make it clear, here’s why : One of my housemates has really strong (and by strong, I mean in the worst possible case) foot odour…
Now, before you start accusing me of blatant accusation, to my defense, I had held my silence for quite some time now. I have kept quiet until I was absolutely positively sure that what I have just said is a fact. A fact so true that not even the best liars or riddlers could mask the fact, unless they have no nose or a really strong perfume. For all you non-believers who don’t trust the word of poor, tortured, innocent little me, I shall now present my case for you to judge for yourself and realise that this little angel of a soul is truly pure and innocent. [I cannot believe I mis-spelt angel as angle… Boy, would I have mock the hell out of me…]
When I first arrived in Brisbby or Hillbilly Village (because Hillbilly City is an oxymoron to me), as some call it, I have the luck of sharing a house with 4 other female Malaysians. I did notice the odour back then, but there were simply too many possible sources and no confirming evidence to pinpoint the source. So as I said, I held my silence, and my breath. Somehow in that place, the odour was not so obvious. Maybe it’s the better ventilation, larger space, or more people breathing it in, or maybe in the recesses of my mind, I had the suspicion that it was me, so I did not pass on such harsh judgments on the matter.
Then, if somehow you were able to have attached a tracking device on me, you would have known that I had shifted to a new place before two of my housemates. And lo and behold, the smell vanished from my vicinity. In fact, I had completely forgotten about the matter altogether. I went on with my life, still partially sulking, but moving on. I was certain that that putrid stench was absent. Absolutely certain, hence ruling out the possibility of it arising from me.
When did the smell reemerge again? Well, Holmes-wannabes, you’ve deduced correct if you thought when my housemates moved into the new place. The minute they arrive and that girl took off her knee-high boots, the vengeful fetid odour ran up my nose faster than a viper’s sting. Oh, how I wished it was a viper instead? At least then I would be put out of my misery, instead of it lingering and torturing me on a daily basis.
Okay, I may have embellished a little back there, but it is true that one could not get near a 5 feet radius of those pair of boots or her feet without the rancid air running up your nose, punching out your sensory of smell faster than Muhammad Ali. Compounding problems, the source of this “delightful” aroma , as one could imagine, is not the most fragrant object out there. In fact, so far from it that fragrant is but a long distant postcard discarded behind the television set of the 1930s. With her impeccable table manners akin to the worst of street peddlers and complete lack of a nose, (I can see it on her, but is it working? I think not…) you would not be surprised that my face has soured on one too many occasions that it has aged approximately 5 years (I am so going to send my botox bill her way.). Worse still, she is completely oblivious to the ridiculously obvious issue (up to the best of my observations, and I have excellent observational skills, if I could say so, myself) and it’s obvious when she just recently remarked (arrogantly) how unpleasant it was a program on telly was showing something to do with feet hygiene (which I thought she should really be listening to, and she was the one who picked the channel in the first place) while we were having dinner. And where was Ms. Manners feet at that moment? Up on the empty chair opposite her, near everyone else on the table but her own. The picture of grace, no?
So what has all this got to do with my readers who are obvious only reading this in their interest for me (I thank thee), well, A gross misfortune has befallen me. The stinky feet smell is contagious!!
I found it odd that a few days back, her wretched feet odour was even more prominent in my daily life and worse still in my room. So, bending my legs so my nose could get a whiff of my feet (and showing off my obvious untapped potential for yoga), One of my worst fears materialized. Her feet odour was stuck on mine. It was not MY feet odour as I have clearly outlined I distinctly remembered. It was hers and hers alone. I was terrified, furious and felt like I could just cry at that very moment. It was disgusting. It was horrible. It was revolting. At that very moment, I felt like cutting my feet off or at least getting an extremely abrasive foot scrub and just scrape at least half an inch of my feet away. They no longer felt like part of my body. They seem so foreign and foul.
Alas, the logic in me kicked in (darn logic) and I began to evaluate the severity of this impudent infection. Almost every piece of footwear I had had been affected. Luckily there was still 1 pair of shoes that smelt like shoes. And off I went to the internet (like I do every time the world bites my ass) to find a solution for my predicament. And like time and time again, I got solutions that I have to idea how to apply. A lot seem to just mask the odour (which I do not want), some seem ridiculous, and others involve a permanent change to my daily hygiene routine which may work for some, but I do not fancy sprinkling baking soda over my feet for the rest of my life because some twat refuses to clean her feet. So I went to the pharmacy to see what I can get to rid myself of this parasite.
I ended up with a powder of some sort from Scholl which supposedly has 30 times more absorbent than normal talc although talc is one of the ingredients, so that means it has (30+1) times? Despite the questionable absorbent rate count, I went against my better judgment (not that I have one) and bought the thing because it was the one that works for both feet and shoes besides the other organic spray thing which ingredients list just read like a perfume’s one. Here I am now sprinkling the white dust into my shoes and on my feet every day, wearing slippers every in the house (including when I am taking a shower, actually especially when I am taking a shower because that is the easiest place of transmission) hoping, nay praying someday the smell would go away. (someday being relative to as soon as possible, but no one likes a pushy request ) while the monstrous creature who spread this awful contamination to me is lazing around with no manners or grace, enwrapped in that horrendous odour of hers. Somebody smite her already!
However, most of the energy has dissipated now, and I am too lazy to go and edit the over 1500 words I wrote some time ago, but since I did not want all that ranting to go to waste, I posted it anyways. So, enjoy
Gross… 1 word to describe the divine reason I needed to create this post…
Foot odour… 2 words…
Shared bathroom sucks… 3 words…
Manage your personal hygiene!... 4
Girls don’t all smell nice… 5.
Okay, let’s get on with it before I spiral out of control into a counting/frenzied raving lunatic.
In recent times (and this is rather vague seeing as my perception of time is horrible), it has come to my attention that something just didn’t sit or rather smell right. Although I do not pride myself as a hygiene freak, I am no dirty butt either. Odour is certainly not a trait people would associate with me… More so with my diversion to sports… Even with my running around playing truant back in school, I still don’t smell and I don’t use deodorant. Frankly that concept was alien to me until college, and even then, I bought my first one under peer pressure (of sorts), which I really did not need…
Sure, I did have some encounters with odour issues; Thank you puberty, weeklong socks and in-grown toenails, and that’s where this annoyance started. You see, due to the few years (more like 2, since I couldn’t stand it any longer) with my smelly feet (well, it wasn’t that bad…), I have grown familiar with the unpleasant scent of my piggies sty. One does not forget the unforgiving odour released from one’s feet that could potentially cause embarrassment and alienation. And it sticks, really sticks to one’s aroma sensory database.
So why did I just bring up an issue so past its expiration date? Why did I painstakingly write those odd 250 words above? If the foremost ranting did not already make it clear, here’s why : One of my housemates has really strong (and by strong, I mean in the worst possible case) foot odour…
Now, before you start accusing me of blatant accusation, to my defense, I had held my silence for quite some time now. I have kept quiet until I was absolutely positively sure that what I have just said is a fact. A fact so true that not even the best liars or riddlers could mask the fact, unless they have no nose or a really strong perfume. For all you non-believers who don’t trust the word of poor, tortured, innocent little me, I shall now present my case for you to judge for yourself and realise that this little angel of a soul is truly pure and innocent. [I cannot believe I mis-spelt angel as angle… Boy, would I have mock the hell out of me…]
When I first arrived in Brisbby or Hillbilly Village (because Hillbilly City is an oxymoron to me), as some call it, I have the luck of sharing a house with 4 other female Malaysians. I did notice the odour back then, but there were simply too many possible sources and no confirming evidence to pinpoint the source. So as I said, I held my silence, and my breath. Somehow in that place, the odour was not so obvious. Maybe it’s the better ventilation, larger space, or more people breathing it in, or maybe in the recesses of my mind, I had the suspicion that it was me, so I did not pass on such harsh judgments on the matter.
Then, if somehow you were able to have attached a tracking device on me, you would have known that I had shifted to a new place before two of my housemates. And lo and behold, the smell vanished from my vicinity. In fact, I had completely forgotten about the matter altogether. I went on with my life, still partially sulking, but moving on. I was certain that that putrid stench was absent. Absolutely certain, hence ruling out the possibility of it arising from me.
When did the smell reemerge again? Well, Holmes-wannabes, you’ve deduced correct if you thought when my housemates moved into the new place. The minute they arrive and that girl took off her knee-high boots, the vengeful fetid odour ran up my nose faster than a viper’s sting. Oh, how I wished it was a viper instead? At least then I would be put out of my misery, instead of it lingering and torturing me on a daily basis.
Okay, I may have embellished a little back there, but it is true that one could not get near a 5 feet radius of those pair of boots or her feet without the rancid air running up your nose, punching out your sensory of smell faster than Muhammad Ali. Compounding problems, the source of this “delightful” aroma , as one could imagine, is not the most fragrant object out there. In fact, so far from it that fragrant is but a long distant postcard discarded behind the television set of the 1930s. With her impeccable table manners akin to the worst of street peddlers and complete lack of a nose, (I can see it on her, but is it working? I think not…) you would not be surprised that my face has soured on one too many occasions that it has aged approximately 5 years (I am so going to send my botox bill her way.). Worse still, she is completely oblivious to the ridiculously obvious issue (up to the best of my observations, and I have excellent observational skills, if I could say so, myself) and it’s obvious when she just recently remarked (arrogantly) how unpleasant it was a program on telly was showing something to do with feet hygiene (which I thought she should really be listening to, and she was the one who picked the channel in the first place) while we were having dinner. And where was Ms. Manners feet at that moment? Up on the empty chair opposite her, near everyone else on the table but her own. The picture of grace, no?
So what has all this got to do with my readers who are obvious only reading this in their interest for me (I thank thee), well, A gross misfortune has befallen me. The stinky feet smell is contagious!!
I found it odd that a few days back, her wretched feet odour was even more prominent in my daily life and worse still in my room. So, bending my legs so my nose could get a whiff of my feet (and showing off my obvious untapped potential for yoga), One of my worst fears materialized. Her feet odour was stuck on mine. It was not MY feet odour as I have clearly outlined I distinctly remembered. It was hers and hers alone. I was terrified, furious and felt like I could just cry at that very moment. It was disgusting. It was horrible. It was revolting. At that very moment, I felt like cutting my feet off or at least getting an extremely abrasive foot scrub and just scrape at least half an inch of my feet away. They no longer felt like part of my body. They seem so foreign and foul.
Alas, the logic in me kicked in (darn logic) and I began to evaluate the severity of this impudent infection. Almost every piece of footwear I had had been affected. Luckily there was still 1 pair of shoes that smelt like shoes. And off I went to the internet (like I do every time the world bites my ass) to find a solution for my predicament. And like time and time again, I got solutions that I have to idea how to apply. A lot seem to just mask the odour (which I do not want), some seem ridiculous, and others involve a permanent change to my daily hygiene routine which may work for some, but I do not fancy sprinkling baking soda over my feet for the rest of my life because some twat refuses to clean her feet. So I went to the pharmacy to see what I can get to rid myself of this parasite.
I ended up with a powder of some sort from Scholl which supposedly has 30 times more absorbent than normal talc although talc is one of the ingredients, so that means it has (30+1) times? Despite the questionable absorbent rate count, I went against my better judgment (not that I have one) and bought the thing because it was the one that works for both feet and shoes besides the other organic spray thing which ingredients list just read like a perfume’s one. Here I am now sprinkling the white dust into my shoes and on my feet every day, wearing slippers every in the house (including when I am taking a shower, actually especially when I am taking a shower because that is the easiest place of transmission) hoping, nay praying someday the smell would go away. (someday being relative to as soon as possible, but no one likes a pushy request ) while the monstrous creature who spread this awful contamination to me is lazing around with no manners or grace, enwrapped in that horrendous odour of hers. Somebody smite her already!
Monkey J
18:39
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18:39
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