It's a Stinker

Last night I hibernated for fourteen hours. Any slumber over half a day should be considered hibernation, or at the very least rejuvenation or revitalization or some other long word that begins with re-. Suffering from a wicked case of insomnia the day prior, I stayed up all night, choosing to begin my Monday workday at 7 AM, returned home after nine hours of surprisingly effective labor, ate five slices of Pizza Hut, and slept. And slept.

I also learned a valuable life lesson: if you're going to revitalize, make sure you don't trap the cat inside the bedroom, or she will shit on your recliner.

In other odor-related news, my car smells of sour milk thanks to another incident on Sunday.

Oh, these modern milk caps...

I have a notoriously poor sense of smell, yet in this instance my typically advantageous olfactory deficiency -- the answer to the crossword clue: "my one superpower?" -- has betrayed me. Now I don't want to make a big stink here, but I might be forced to buy a new car if said noisomeness is not soon abolished.

It was beautiful, but now it's sour
Yes, it's all gone sour
Ah -- ah, ah, ah -- ah
God Jesus, it's all gone sour

-Jesus Christ Superstar