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Cash smells nice, not so much loose change but a big wedge of notes even a roll of old notes never seems to lose It's appeal to my average sized snout. Pears smell nice too as does the leather interior of an old Austin 7 or the smell from an Ariel Leader or an Ariel Arrow's exhaust as they whizz past you. But the smell of a big wedge of banknotes takes some beating.
My Father had a profound influence on me, he was a lunatic.
God, I'd forgotten that, but it did, didn't it? (Smell nice, that is, I can't vouch for the taste. Though round about that time I did find out that peach scented soap does not in fact taste of peach.)
Evo-Stik contact adhesive.. Cut grass. Bag of herbs, Dill,rosemary,coriander,marijuana,Basil,tarragon. Coffee. But not that Starbucks costa smell. Just my normal cup of coffee in the morning smell. Toast.
I know almost nothing about the Premier League even though I try to catch the big games every now and then at the end of the season. But I will say this, Queens Park Rangers is just a fukking sick ass team name. Just sounds so cool.
Old books. Coffee shops. Frying bacon. The onions from that burger place beside Dave Thomas on S'Affa Road. Your new leather school bag. A woman's perfume on your pillow the night after. The match programme.
"The opposite of love, after all, is not hate, but indifference."
The smell of a seriously stinky fart (you know when you are that shocked at what's flown out of the old chocolate starfish, that you are in awe of your own epicness, the bad smell part goes away and you are left with a sense of pride and achievement)
When I was 10 that's what I wanted to do when I grew up.
Before the well-known and loved series there was this excellent even better one-off must see Play for Today. Enjoy.
Anything French is garlicky smelly (often not Nice)
'I'm 18 with a bullet.Got my finger on the trigger,I'm gonna pull it.."
Love,Peace and Fook Chelski!
More like 20StoneOfHoop now.
Let's face it I'm not getting any thinner.
Pass the cake and pies please.
That frizzy haired hippy like substitute teacher I had back when I was about 13 or 14 for a couple weeks, she smelled of sandalwood, mmm deelightful even to this day.
Old books. Coffee shops. Frying bacon. The onions from that burger place beside Dave Thomas on S'Affa Road. Your new leather school bag. A woman's perfume on your pillow the night after. The match programme.
Ah yes the smell of football (when I was a lad)... a blend of onions frying and cigarette smoke on a freezing cold saturday afternoon...marvelous.
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