Monday, July 13

Today's lifeku goes out to all of the ladies that I smell way too much on the morning metro:

Parisian Women
Lay off the Angel*
You all smell like barf

*please note that Angel is a perfume intended to smell like chocolate, but more closely resembles rotting stomach lining.

Thursday, June 25

Potential date guy
If you didn't smell like poop
I might have said yes

Wednesday, June 3: Reader Submission

Today's reader submission comes from Danielle, who not unlike me passes about 47% of her week on the Paris metro:

Fripsters* on the train
Your hair reeks of your own pee
But I like your shoes


*fripe (from the verb "friper" for crumple) refers to thrift and vintage stores in French

Friday, May 22

Funk nasty smell man
Not even sure what that is
You need to rinse off

Monday, May 18

Unwelcome squatter
I smell you from the hallway
Please leave my building

Wednesday, March 11: Reader Submission

This week's reader submission comes from Fern, who tells us about the creative and resourceful methods her brother used to torture her growing up:

Dear older brother
Please stop farting in my mouth
Humiliation

Thursday, February 26

Some of you who are loyal readers from the beginning may think that this lifeku strongly resembles "Man With Bad B.O." (one of the original lifekus) and it probably does. But I can't help that because the number of funk-nasty people that are all up in my personal space requires that I write at least one body odor related haiku per month. Brunette on the line 2 next to me a few days ago, you know who you are:

Stranger next to me
You are smelling pretty ripe
Deodorant, much?

Tuesday, February 17

Sometimes in the morning rush of the metro, when my body merges with what I like to call "The Human Cube," I go to my special place, my happy place. I just close my eyes and pretend I don't have 4 other people pressed up against me and one of them didn't brush their teeth. I normally look up towards the ceiling, because as French people are short, that is where there is the most air. Some of these times in the morning, I am wrenched out of my safe and happy place by an unsettling noise followed by a violently rotten odor. In these situations, everybody puts on their Not Guilty Face and begins to glance around in failed attempts to find the culprit. Except for sometimes, it's so obviously one person that you can't stop giggling to yourself while at the same time covering your face with your pashmina as to avoid suffocating:


Not so stealthy guy
I totally just heard you
Let a fat one rip

Thursday, February 5

I live in France, so I have become accustomed to less than perfect teeth (not for myself, of course). The French don't believe that it's "healthy" to do certain things like "whiten" and "crown." They do wear braces and do root canals, which is more than I can say for the English who probably have the most fugly trifling grills I have ever seen. Ever.

When I talk to you
All I ever notice is
Your stank nasty teeth

Monday, January 26

I've spoken previously and candidly about my personal feelings on the subject of bad breath. In fact, I frequently discuss my feelings on this particular subject, because for some reason it seems like 80% of the population had a small animal die in their mouth last month and still haven't brushed their teeth:

Hey you, dragon breath
Please close your putrid mouth, it’s
Wilting my flowers

Saturday, January 24

Remember when you were an annoying kid who said annoying stuff like, "I know you are but what am I" or "I'm rubber and your glue, whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you?" I hated you then and I hate you now and by the way 9 year-olds everywhere: I've heard it all - there's no nursery rhyme insult you can throw my way that won't get a comeback so why do you try:

Snotty little girl
You look like a monkey and
You smell like one too

Friday, November 21

I've always had an issue with personal space... even more so since I've been living in Europe. The French have no concept whatsoever when it comes to personal space in lines, stores, or trains and are perfectly content to thrust their bodies up against you in the hopes of somehow speeding up the process of whatever it is you're doing. It is possible to avoid this up close and personal contact by be increasing body position creativity; for example, if you stand sideways in a line with one foot jutting out, the person behind you can't realistically go past your foot without looking like they're trying to bump n' grind. Unfortunately, this technique doesn't ever work for the dreaded close talker. You know, the one who leans forward a little more every time you lean back so that you are forced to bend your body like one of those Japanese contortionists at Cirque de Soleil?

You there in my face
No one likes a close talker
You need a breath mint

Thursday, November 6

Today's lifeku is yet another facet of the previously mentioned "Human Cube" and resulting air quality:

Morning commute guy
Do you bathe in Cool Water?
I need oxygen

Saturday, October 25

Weird depressed roommate
Will you put on pants today?
You smell pretty ripe

Thursday, October 16

Cute guy on the couch
Women might go out with you
If you took showers

Tuesday, October 14

Invasive lady
Pressing all up against me
You smell like cat pee

Monday, October 13

Offensive breath man
Did something die in your mouth?
Have this stale Mento

Friday, September 19, #2

You, gaudy woman
Put on way too much perfume
I'm suffocating

Saturday, September 13

When getting on the line 1 of the Paris Metro at 6:00 in the evening, one prepares oneself to merge with what I like to call "The Human Cube." This is wear you let your appendages fall into the extremely limited available space and hope you don't break something as the guy next to you proceeds to crush the cartilage in your nose with his right shoulder. It is moments like this that you really get up close and personal with your fellow commuters... too up close and personal, in the sense that you want to start giving them grooming tips. All of which brings us to today's lifeku, which I think we all can apply to about 100 people we come across in a day:


Man with bad B.O.
How can you not know the truth?
Please have this Speed Stick