The word of the day on October 15th was fetor and it means "a strong, offensive smell; a stench." One of the sentences they used as an example was from the book Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides. I own it but have not read it. The sentence was:
"When I close my eyes and summon the fond smells of childhood . . . the aroma that fills, as it were, the nostrils of my memory is the sulfurous, protein-dissolving fetor of Nair."
I loved the sentence and I was set on reading the book, or at least using it for a cut-up. I took the shortcut.
in the middle
My grandmother had conflicting emotions about the baptism but was absolutely wild about the bratwurst. How much yogurt does it take to fill the mosaic eye of a bloodshot tyrant? Never underestimate the importance of self-reliance, especially when buying explosives. When she admitted to smoking Menthol cigarettes while she brushed her teeth I nearly threw the baby against the garage wall. They’re selling pretty female voices down at the coffee kiosk on 5th but you know how those maniacal backgammon players get when you interrupt. Avenging suds haunt me in my suburban dreams.