Tact
I'm not very tactful.

A falling block of flats has more tact than I do.

So when I was in town last week and this smelly munter walked past - I had the misfortune of breathing in at the time and lit rip with "Jeesus feckin' smelly bitchin' sweaty ugh vile cow"

She heard me - Well, I was yelling it at the time - and she tutted

SHE tutted at me??? The smelly, chav, redneck, ugly, chainsmoking freak of nature had the nerve to tut at me?!?!

Must've been French.
(james_tiger_woods is going to start his killing spree on the, Mon 26 Mar 2007, 14:55, Reply)

Dogs
I'm going to get in trouble for this one, but I cannot help but gag when I witness the disgusting habits of man's best friend. Sure, they're cute and very personable creatures (indeed I grew up with boxer dogs) but my word they hum. Dog shit is just about the second most offensive thing known to man after Jim Davidson, it stinks to high heaven and once stuck to the sole of your shoe or the tyre of your MTB has the sort of adhesive qualities which Boeing could utilize when glueing the wings of a 747 together. Then there's doggy smell itself, a pungent aroma which gets everywhere.

I used to date a lass who was very fond of her pet dog, who'd spend the entire day licking it's own arse with an almost robotic dedication to the task . Cue 5:30 when lass got home from college and doggo would be there greeting her and licking her face. Lass in question would then get very upset with me when I suggested that either she'd ensure her face was washed or I wouldn't kiss her.
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Mon 26 Mar 2007, 14:53, Reply)

If you are eating
look away now.

My brother works as a psychiatric nurse, on one sorry day he and his colleagues noticed a foul odour on the ward ..

Eventually they traced it to some poor catatonic soul’s mouth, naturally my bro decided to clean his teeth

This is the bad part .. halfway through cleaning he noticed red lumps on the toothbrush, yep – the patients gums (and most of his tongue) had been gently rotting away.

Bleargh
(flibbley lame balloon man far and wee, Mon 26 Mar 2007, 14:48, Reply)

From a letter addressed to every girl in first year halls:
"Please refrain from disposing any used sanitary towels out of the windows."
(TheSpudTeam, Mon 26 Mar 2007, 14:35, Reply)

Damp. It stinks.
A relation of mine lives in a damp useless house with her equally damp useless boyfriend, and they both stink of mildew all the time, everywhere they go.

They don't seem to mind the smell themsleves. Funny, you'd think you'd notice that you smelt like a second-hand shroud. No wonder neither of them can get a job.
(Juan Quar is clinging to her front teeth on, Mon 26 Mar 2007, 14:34, Reply)

Lift
I'm back.

I was in a lift earlier - Now I'm not the most tolerant of people - esepcially those that smell.

So when a guy headed towards the lift, I held it open for him - y'know, I'm polite and all that.

He wanders in - and the smell, like a third person, stepped in with him. He stank of last weeks beer (and all the nights since and before it), cigarette smoke and piss.

Now I can only hold my breath so much (5 seconds it turns out) but he's stood in the middle of the small lift sharing this smell with me.

Goes without saying the lift was on a go-slow.

He gets out and I aubibly started to gag and retch (I'm tactful like that) - I stopped the lift on the next floor and got out as his smell hadn't got off with him.

Ew.
(james_tiger_woods is going to start his killing spree on the, Mon 26 Mar 2007, 14:32, Reply)

you want bad hygiene, eh?
There was a girl in my science class who was nicknamed Bogbrush. She had thick, curly and unwashed hair that when tied up formed a ball that looked like an old bogbrush (hence the name) and I can tell you I've never smelt anything more foul than her in my life (and I work in a kennels cleaning up forty five greyhounds worth of poo and piss. It's a comparative rosegarden.) It was a really bitter smell, a mixture of greasy hair and B.O, mixed in with cheap deodorant. It that made breathing near her quite difficult (I'm not kidding), got left behind her in a kind of trail and made getting within five feet of her almost unbearable. To add to that, she had some kind of skin condition all over her body (God knows what it was, it looked like some kind of excema/impetigo hybrid though judging from what reliable sources have said about her house I wouldn't be suprised if it was tEh ScAbIeS or something) that she used to scratch and left little white flakes all over herself. Not a good look on a black school blazer, especially when it wasn't snowing.

She kind of latched on to me and my friends one time, so we got to smell a lot more of her than most people (luckily, through a series of stupid events she was 'terrorising' us by the next year. Her being friends with us was far more unpleasant). Noone really liked her, as apart from her smell she was very pretentious and clingy and also quite a bit of a whore. But anyway, she leeched off of one of my friends in particular and was always at her house. Two stories I can remember involve her getting up and leaving the room, leaving her scent in said friend's sofa and making her and her mum gag, and the time that she bent over and showed the world that she was on her period. As it was smeared half way up her back.
I'd feel sorry for her if she wasn't a bitch.
(reisu has a man on a ladder fetish, Mon 26 Mar 2007, 14:20, Reply)

S. Langman...
sally didn't enjoy muffing that much, said (& did) she'd much rather chew on the bone, 'cept: one long weekend of shagging, drinking and tenting somewhere devoid of ablutions in devon, she insisted I get down....
i know i'm a blokie and i know that i'd wholly contributed to that ole kipper box, so i tried chocolate sauce, syrup and finally strawberry jam before the sea receded somewhat.
it transpired too that the jam had hidden the beginings of the painters.

red wings? make of boots or sign of animal behaviour? I got both now....
and now too: an alarming trigger sense of smell for the monthlies
(mickturate if i could be arsed i'd be bored, Mon 26 Mar 2007, 13:53, Reply)

Accidentally me
Just now - at lunch, went down to Tesco's for a sandwich. Felt the need to drain the python before I went into the store so went into the toilets there.

Toilets empty when I went in so had no qualms about letting rip a massive fart that instantly stunk the place out, leaving me with a sense of self-satisfaction as I started pissing into the urinal.

At that point, the urinal set off on its self-clean and filled up at a rather rapid rate. I'm past the point of return and could only watch in horror as I managed to help it overflow and piss started to run out of the urinal and along the floor.

It's at this point that a stranger walks in to the toilet, to be greeted by a stench fouler than man should encounter from my arse and a small stream of my piss running down to the next urinal where he has to stand, coating his shoes instantly.

I finish up hurredly and whilst washing my hands, manage to soak my tie in the sink while leaning forward.

I leave the bog, go and get my lunch and come out of the store having to pass the other bloke on the way. He's obviously told the 3 people he's stood with about me getting piss all over his shoes and leaving a rathe unpleasant smell with him to chew on.

As I walk past shamefully, I just manage to catch one of them remarking how I had managed to piss all down my tie as well.

I think I'll go hungry next time

Cheers
(brocky, Mon 26 Mar 2007, 13:51, Reply)

My old English teacher...
Wore shirts that were a sort of off-white colour. Except when he leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms out. The armpits of the shirts were all a dirty muddy green colour.

Ewwww.
(The Empress it seems you CAN polish a turd!, Mon 26 Mar 2007, 13:36, Reply)

A girl that smells.
Ok, so for the past couple of years, I've been flat and house mate to a girl who has no sense of smell, so I feel pretty bad posting this, but it'd my story and I've been polite enough to listen to you all so here it comes.

At the end of first year, I wasn't to aware of her problems, I knew the ability to smell things wasn't going on her CV, but it hadn’t been a problem at that point. I'd get the odd horror story from her room mate about poos that smelled like death, and were not countered with air freshener as the pooer didn't remember it was necessary. Bearing in mind she fed her self at tesco for less then £10 a week, its fair to say her diet wasn't the best, but didn't affect me.

What does affect her, is alcohol. On her last night in our halls of residence, she decided that drinking too much was a good idea, in an attempt to bed my flat mate. As her advances were pushed aside, she turned her attention to me. Now she's a pretty girl, mental at times, but not a bad looker. In her drunken state, she offers herself to me for a drink, I refuse on the moral grounds that it's almost like date rape, and seeing as I didn't even pay for the results, it would be like stealing too.
Later on she attempts to kiss me, as her lips touch mine, I feel two things in quick succession. The first being surprise the second? Nausea. My oh my she had bad BO that night, worse then I'd get whilst painting sets at an un-air-conditioned photography studio, in a full boiler suit during the summer heat wave. I shit you not, she was worse then the smell of a long hard day of man graft followed by a metro ride home. They say love is blind, but it isn't anosemic. I had to fight off 3 of her advances that night, before she passed out on my bed after using my toilet.

Then I had to actually move in close and comfort her as she came to terms with the fact she had slept through the rest of the night and wasn't going to see my flat mate for months. I should get a bloody medal for that, turning down free sex, keeping my self from fainting from smell 3 times and then actually braving the smell again for a final and prolonged exposure in the name of friendship.

Where’s my parade? Where’s my statue? Princess Diana didn't take a face full of AIDS when she helped the suffers, in my eyes I did far more then her.
(Mong goose, Mon 26 Mar 2007, 13:29, Reply)

festival smelly
I've never been to a festival and washed once there. Highlights include:

Phoenix Festival - 5 days of glorious sunshine, no showering and no deodrant.
Glastonbury 97 - lots of mud, pretty much lived on fried onion sarnies and tea :-) Much mud and much smelling!!!
Glastonbury 98 - very muddy, 5 days no shower, virtually the same diet.
Glastonbury 99 - pretty hot this year, still no showering or deodrant for 5 days. Pulled a fine bird and did the dirty for every night. She was even brave enough to give me head on the last night!!! How grim!!!
Glastonbury 2000 - Mmmmm, more smelliness.
Ozfest - could have been 2001, lots of rain, lots of smelly moshers and me not washing again.

I must also point at that at no time at any of the above were my clothes changed (including underwear).

Although my memory is hazy due to excessive drug use it is also highly unlikely that I brushed my teeth at the above mentioned festivals either. Nowadays I'm clean and respectable and bath daily.
( SpikeyPickle wishes he was mabazaritchie, Mon 26 Mar 2007, 13:19, Reply)

Thing is, I overheat quickly...
...don't know why, as I'm not overweight or somesuch. But still, whether it's a workout, a bike ride or just walking to my tram stop for work in a morning, I sweat visibly but not profusely*.

And yet, I don't smell.

Would you like to know my secret?

I bet you would.

The anticipation is killing you, I can see.

In a nutshell, it's down to the fact that I FUCKING WELL WASH! In addition, I wash my clothes after wearing them once and clean my apartment once per week. And it has to be said that the activities involved really don't put one out that much. Really, isn't it worth it for the peace-of-mind of knowing that people don't avoid you or your gaff because you/it stinks?

That said, there's the odd occasion where I'm required to lug computer equipment around/crawl under desks/do more-physycal-than-usual stuff whilst still dressed for the office, and that can sometimes have an undesired olfactory effect. For those eventualities I keep a can of deodorant in a filing cabinet drawer in my office. I've mentioned BO monsters on public transport before, and I'll be fucked if I'm going to be one of them even for a day.

People have talked about t'olden days where no-one washed and everyone was okay, but the fact is, they weren't - all manner of nasty diseases were commonplace up until the 1950's, when the powers really began to hammer home the importance of not being a minging twat. How often do people say that the likes of dysentery, typhoid and scabies are a common problem these days? Oh that's right, they dont - coincidence? Not really, no.

There's just no need for it - if I ruled the world then as well as hunting down chavs like the vermin they are and herding them into camps for orderly incineration, I'd run other re-education camps for skanky bastards like those described here. Granted, concessions can be afforded for the mentally ill, physiologically disadvantaged or those in the middle of nowhere/'not touching the facilities in this place' etc but for those that have opportunity and ability, there's just. no. excuse.

{Just realised how long this is} Okay, now THAT'S a rant - apologies - I quit smoking a few days ago ;)

* I'm told I'm lucky in this because it's good for the skin, provided I wash it off once in awhile. I am my own sauna lol. There may be some truth in this as even in my adolescence, I have rarely been plagued by spottiness. Cool.
(thatblokeoverthere not quite as much an arsehole as I thought, Mon 26 Mar 2007, 13:09, Reply)

The Phantom
An ex g/f of mine works for a very prestigious organisation in an office next door to Liverpool St station. You'd think that everyone there who makes an effort to turn up as neat as a pin and being of a certain calibre would have mastered the basics of potty training?

Nope.

Someone makes a regular habit of haphazardly depositing their wastes and just leaving it there. Sometimes it will be in the toilet, other times it'll be on or around it.

Worst of all, the offender is female. They haven't yet caught the culprit, but the bog-wrecking reports appear to be following a particular "lady" around the building.

Ewwwwww!
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Mon 26 Mar 2007, 13:06, Reply)

Oh, I forgot this one
There was a boy at my primary school (Ashmead in south-east London, for those who are interested) called Matthew who would piss himself every hour. After a while he didn't bother telling anyone so on a hot day he would reek. And he would shit himself at least once a week.

Fucking disgusting.
(Half of Stephen Fry's right buttock pissed on your dog on, Mon 26 Mar 2007, 12:58, Reply)

Woo! Old story coming up
www.b3ta.com/questions/worstnicknamesever/post54836/
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Mon 26 Mar 2007, 12:54, Reply)

Skids
My housemate is very strict about the kitchen, if you forget to clean a pan for a few hours, he will, rather politely, remind you to do it. Its annoying when you make a meal then watch a film, only to be asked if you wouldn’t mind cleaning the pan out, but I can se his point, its a kitchen, and it should be kept clean. However, if asked to empty the bin, he won't do it. Ever. A kitchen shared by 4 students, 3 of which are males isn't likely to stay that clean, but you'd expect the guy to empty the bin every once in a while if the kitchen's hygiene is that important to him.

I also share a bathroom with the guy, who i spent hours persuading that tesco value loo role was like sandpaper, and there for not good enough to wipe your arse on, he then revealed that he'd stolen a kitchen role off me last year when he ran out of bog role, i shudder at the thought of the chaffing. He moved into the house a week before any one else, so I assumed he would have gotten the basics in, like a toilet brush or some bog cleaner. He hadn’t. Fair enough thinks I, skint students and all that, and I don't make a thing of it, just nicking the girls toilet brush when its needed. Over a couple of months, Lime scale started to build up in the toilet through lack of cleaning, which wasn’t nice, so I decided to use toilet cleaners to shift it, and bought a toilet brush so it wouldn’t get bad again, and it hasn't. But what is getting bad is the number of skids this guy leaves, I mean, if it was every once in a while, I'd not mind. But this guy goes for a shit at twice before he leaves the house on a morning, so they build up. I tried politely asking him, I tried making a little joke of it, but he is totally incapable of using the toilet brush or cleaning the bathroom in any way. There was an old MacDonald’s cup of his on top of the toilet for over a month. I'd have cleaned it if I had fewer principals, but I'm not his bloody mother, and their is a bin less then 4 feet away from the cup, he should be able to do it.
(Mong goose, Mon 26 Mar 2007, 12:48, Reply)

Hairy neighbours
my next door neighbours are total cunts from cuntland. If there was a degree in cuntyness, they'd excel. Not only are they obnoxious, loud, thick and generally in-bred, they're also gross. To demonstrate: last summer, I heard the dulcet tones of the thick old git bellowing out in his back garden. I happened to be upstairs in my abode so thought I'd be a nosey arse and see what the smelly old sod was up to. Imagine my horror to see him almost starkers, sat on a stool in the middle of his garden, being shaved by his fat wife? Now, I'm not talking about a shave a la barber shop shave. I'm talking shaving his body. The main makes the fucking yeti look smooth as a baby's bum. This man is covered in wiry, grey hair, all over his hideous body. And his fatty arbuckle wife was merrily snipping away at his hairy body, letting wisps of fur float on the summer breeze, into my fucking garden!!! Filthy, filthy old gits!
(angelica666, Mon 26 Mar 2007, 12:36, Reply)

HAMSTERS!
A friend of a friend married for love. Against the wishes of his parents and the warnings of his friends, he took it upon himself to raise a sullied young woman from the trials and tribulations of her chavvy background and into the middling echelons of semi-polite society. A kind of My Fair Lady for our age.

Anyway, part of this transformation involved the sanitising of her dwelling, which looked like one of those houses where old widowed men collect bottles of piss and yellow pages.

Anyway, while de-cluttering the lounge room, FoF dug beneath the 'mantle' of crusty pizza boxes and discovered... a dead hamster, it was not alone.

This woman had never had any pets, let alone hamsters, and had never noticed that they were in fact infesting her abode. HAMSTERS!
(lessmiserable, Mon 26 Mar 2007, 12:23, Reply)

The Bakery of S**nsbury
Ugh, unsurprisingly my story revolves around a housemate. And a supermarket.

I lived with this guy a couple of years ago. He lived on a diet of (almost solely) pork pies and chicken kievs, which didn't do much good for his digestive system.
One day he was sat on the couch in my room, when he let rip - suddenly jumping up and running to the other end of the room. When I asked what was up, he said he'd shit himself. Then I smelled it.
I wouldn't have minded so much, but the couch was new and he was wearing nothing but a dressing gown.

Perhaps even better, he'd just graduated from uni with an English degree and couldn't find a decent job (I also have an English degree, but decided to stay in school forever...) - ergo he winds up in the bakery of a well-known supermarket chain.

Somehow said chain didn't notice the fact that he didn't wash his uniform, of which he only had one, which he wore EVERY DAY. He didn't wash it for two months, by which time it reeked. He made me touch it. It was encrusted. He also never washed his hands and had the worst gas. God knows what he passed into the food.

Still, serves all the fuckers who shop in supermarket bakeries right, eh?
(red_jon, Mon 26 Mar 2007, 11:37, Reply)

Got to get this in.
Late for last weeks question so you bunch of shirt-lifting liberals ought to watch Point Break(Lee Marvin) and Dirty Harry(Clint Eastwood) for some role models on how to be a man.
Anyways this weeks question. I once worked in a fantastic school for kids who were severely mentally and physically handicapped. They were all on heavy medication which meant their shit sure didn't smell of roses. I was working in the kindergarden section one week (the school was 3-12 year olds) and I had yet to have the pleasure of nappy changing. A rather evil smell emanated from one of the kids and the sign teacher looked at me saying that I may as well start now (changing nappies) I took it in my stride and did the job but it felt like I had been engulfed in rancid, sulphuric, medicated death which lingered on my skin and in my sinuses long after the event had past. It was dinner about 10 minutes later. Didn't put me off though.
(Dellamorte Dellamore Fuck it all, fuck it up, fuck it., Mon 26 Mar 2007, 11:00, Reply)

Maplin
Whether to go to Maplins is always an agonising decision. You know you will receive professional advice by people who understand their products, but that you will feel sick by the end of it.

The last time I went there to return a faulty microphone, I placed my receipt on the counter. The assistant was bleeding heavily from two of his fingers, but he continued to bite the remaining ones. While he was talking, he was dripping from the end of his nose. So after a few seconds the receipt was covered with blood and snot, like something found on a car crash victim. He then placed the receipt back in my hand and told me to go to the other till. I was physically retching but he seemed completely unperturbed.

Why don't geeks WASH? Do they think it will rinse away their super powers? You are not an avatar on second life! You are a person, and you stink!

Edit: In the Holborn branch a GIRL recently started working there. The difference is spectacular; it smells like an explosion in a Lynx factory.
An olfactory assault of Slazenger Sport.
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Mon 26 Mar 2007, 10:45, Reply)

but seriously
I used to run the menswear dept at a major high street fashion store, which I shall refer to as 'Next' (actual name not changed).

One of the outgoing managers final acts was to take on a weekend girl, just to cover the gap in the rota, as one of our lads was off to uni.

Now the old manager must have been 'avin a giraffe, as the lass employed was a) massive, b)dense as a forest and c) pungent/repugnant/EFFIN STINKY.

good god, the girl had no shame.
She wore the same clothes every weekend, and I swear they were never washed.
Christ alone knows if she ever grazed a flannel over her minge, but the combined smell of fish/sweat/curry just about killed us all.

Onesaturday, I took her aside and tried to be subtle about it, to try and silve the issue.

Im. Not. Subtle.

she left, cying, within ten minutes, and we never saw her again.

Her name was Rachel.

Avoid her.
(UnstableDan Bah, Humbug! ooooh, humbugs, nyom!, Mon 26 Mar 2007, 10:27, Reply)

bindun?
theres this lad, apparently, he's been wearing the same jeans for four days.

now he's off out to a disco.

I dont reckon he'll pull, the smelly gyppo.
especially not singing about it to all and sundry.
(UnstableDan Bah, Humbug! ooooh, humbugs, nyom!, Mon 26 Mar 2007, 10:22, Reply)

Ex colleague
An ex colleague of mine landed a job post geology degree in the Australian outback working as a surveyor for a mining company. As you can imagine, working with hairy miners on the very edge of civilization meant that it wasn't long before basic hygiene standards slipped a tad as clean clothing became impregnated with dust every few minutes and opportunities to shower were few and far between.

His proudest achievement was wearing the same pair of pants for a whopping six weeks.
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Mon 26 Mar 2007, 9:35, Reply)

olde days
I wonder if anyone has given any thought to the way it was a couple of hundred years ago:

1) No toothbrushes or toothpaste.
2) No soap, and bathing was considered dangerous for health.
3) A diet rich in red meat and beer or wine.
4) No shampoo, washing detergent, deoderant etc.

That meant EVERYONE had bad breath, evil farts, reeking body odour, greasy hair, mossy teeth, dirty hands, filthy clothes. Imagine oral sex! Imagine being in a busy train carriage! Thank God times have changed ...

Except in France, of course.
(Fothermucker, Mon 26 Mar 2007, 9:31, Reply)

unhygienic pron
I'm tempted, but efforts so far have repulsed even me. So I'll give you the ingredients and you can make your own:

1) A 25-stone hooker called Diane
2) 66FF tits with nipples like rolos and brown aureoles like saucers.
3) The smell of mackeral
4) A crusty and alarmingly hairy back passage
5) A light moustache and four rotting teeth.
6) A wager that I'll win £250,000 if I go through the entire Kama Sutra with her.
(frankspencer, Mon 26 Mar 2007, 9:25, Reply)

mad aussies
yep, confess, wasn't the best thing i did in my life, but was too drunk and the lovely aussie was too much of a keanu reeves lookalike so i couldn't resist and we head to this small hotel to yesss, get to know each other better and as he puts it "sleep by each other"

i'm basically like 3 hours out of the shower, all scented and still feel the scents of all the skincare brands i've put on me skin before going out, but in the hotel the guy basically puts me in the shower after undressing and sends me there each time he touches me

sex? erm, no, bloody desinfection games
(bonker banker, Mon 26 Mar 2007, 9:20, Reply)

Woof
Ever met anybody who sleeps with his big dogs...


and lets them lie on his clothes...


and doesn't seem to wash them afterwards...


and turn up to job interviews wearing the dog-scented clothes...


my auntie must be so proud she married a man like that.




PS. He didn't get the job.
( Kittenpants, Mon 26 Mar 2007, 7:04, Reply)

Sniffs
A friend of mine (who shall be referred to as "Sarah Morrison" because there's no way in hell she'll ever see this.) has an interesting idea of what personal hygiene is. She's one of those many females who spend hours (and I mean that literally) applying make-up, doing hair and picking out clothes before she goes out drinking. Her problem, however, is it apparently has never occured to her to actually shower.
Or wash the clothes she wears.
For example, she turns up at the Pokey Little Puppy residence wearing an outfit that'd offend a hooker, approximately 5 kilos of make-up balanced on her face and hair dyed and styled to the point you can hear it screaming, yet she lifts her arm to revel armpits that look like they haven't seen a razor in years and a smell not unlike what I'd imagine Chewbacca would smell like after a marathon sex session involving Rosie O'Donnell and a bin full of rotting skunks. Nasty.
And, as Mr. Pokey Little Puppy pointed out, you can smell her from at least 2 metres.
Gotta feel a bit sorry for her boyfriend, I've heard (many, many times, mostly from her) that she's really into oral (recieving, NOT giving). I can't even begin to imagine what he has to face down there....

(And if she does ever see this I'd like to add something else: Do not come over to my house in microshorts and a tube top when you know my CHRISTIAN mother in-law will be there. Not fcuking ok. The woman has a nose like a bloodhound and is more god-botheringly uptight than Pat Robertson. You offend her in every possible sense of the word.)

Length? I'd say those armpit hairs would be at least 3cm long.
(pokey_little_puppy Future Supreme Ruler of the Universe, Mon 26 Mar 2007, 6:05, Reply)