(She's So) Boring

So I'm behind again. No class today except for French, and it being post-test, I hoped it would be low-key since I'm a bit behind. But lo! It was not. We went over family members and days of the week. I've no idea how those are possibly related, but so are the ways of learning languages. On the way to said class, there was a guido to my left, something best described as Tom Arnold to my right, and a woman who smelled chokingly of chili. My god, the chili. Blue Oyster Cult couldn't stop me from being throttled by this woman's stench. No, I don't know how to get an umlaut on here, and I'm not going to take the time to figure it out. I don't know how she left her home thinking that that was an acceptable way for anyone to smell. It is baffling. It is pointless to ponder on. It was murderous, most foul, malodorous, she was maladroit. I've spent this large portion of this posting railing on about this cretin's stink because it doesn't leave my nostrils. I've taken two showers and it's still there. I'd compare it to how when someone is forced to kill a loved one, every time afterward they close their eyes, they see the pleading, begging, bloodied face of this person of great importance to them as their life is poured out on to the floorboads of that rickety old ship that hosted their first fishing trip together, way back when.