There just isn't enough febreeze
to rid the room of the haze
Of a dog ****, strong and silent
It kind of puts you in a daze

It kind of sneaks in, then it hits you
An olfactory h-bomb in your face
Meanwhile, he just lies there
He's wiped the room with **** mace

There is no middle ground here
They always smell like something died
Like he caught a squirrel in the garden
Now, it's rotting his insides

Dog farts, are a weapon
That our army has not used
In fact I told them in a letter
In their reply, they were amused

"We've tried to duplicate it"
"A killer weapon... stops the heart"
"But, our scientists just aren't able"
"To reproduce a strong dog ****"

"Thank you for your consideration"
"We'll let you know, if we succeed"
"We agree with your kind letter"
"dog farts escape and then they breed"

Sometimes when a dog farts
It makes a noise, he turns around
"my god, I smell incredible"
is the look comes from my hound

So, if you've never smelled a dog ****
And your dog just sneaks one out
Do yourself a favour
Do not feed him brussel sprouts.

i want to get to know you.
i remember thinking that when i first met you.
i wanted to get to know everything about you.

what you look like in the morning, what you look like at night, what your hair is like if you jokingly put it up in a towel, what your family is like, what words you use a lot.
what your favorite scent of febreeze is, what color you describe the sky as, what you think of when you see something beautiful.
what your favorite creamer is to put into your coffee or if you even like coffee, what you look like at 2am when you're feeling alone.
how you speak when you are angry in comparison to when you are sad (so i will never get the two mixed up), what you want as a tattoo, what you believe in.

i wanted to know everything that i could fall in love with.
and i learned that there is no one else i would rather know, than you.
because absolutely everything about you is intriguing, from what you look like in the morning to what you dare to believe in.

she wrote me a letter, scented
of perfume
I no longer had my third biggest
budget bill
the plug in air fresheners and
Febreeze
by the gallon,  no longer needed.

And, about then I got this Email,
invest
in the US Postal Service, the stock is at an
all time low.
So now I am much richer, more wise,
conscious
of the future again, it is smelling sweeter!!
I have
the emailed  stock certificates to
prove!

I re-invested all those savings wisely.
awaiting
the dividends. When I sit vicariously, pouring over my balance
sheet,
I find Olde English and cigarettes have
risen way to the top of my budget the
empty
cans are my top asset! I
smile
at my luck, almost like winning the
Lottery!

Magic is in the air
When the delight spreads
But even then,
Febreeze doesn't do all it says.

You’re the reason for my favorite poem,
why I buy extra-strength whitening toothpaste,
the best part of Mondays.

You’re a showtune in the shower,
my pre-slumber what-if,
and also the best part of Tuesdays.

I worry that you notice
when my shoes smell bad
so I bought the expensive kind of Febreeze.

Smell the air; he fails.
His mother will be home.
Scrape burnt chocolate into the trash
and spray Febreeze.
Bloodshot eyes
and goodbye Mary.

It's a bad day when you can't get Celene Dion out of your head
Titanic was good
It was not that good

I found a dried flower
Buried in Leviticus of my sort of grandma's bible
She must have liked that part
The only quote about Leviticus I've read on the internet is about stoning gay people
I hope she didn't like it that much

I saw a bagel get made
No one has the job of eating the middles out
I'm 23, this was a let down
I still like bagels a lot

I tacked the dry flower on my wall
Above the reminder that it's $3 a day to swim at the public pool in the mornings
I hope it's not a homophobic flower
I hid the bible behind Lauren Conrad's book
Lauren Conrad's book embarrasses me less

My sort of grandma
Is only sort of alive
I often feel that way

I feel most alive while dreaming of the impossible
Realistic dreams lead to disappointment
Outlandish dreams leave little 'remember when’s’'
No one hates themselves for not becoming an astronaut
A lot of people hate themselves for not losing 20lbs

Friendships are often measured in favors
That is all
That was not all
Favors are measured in sacrifices
Favors are not measured in reward

Today is a reflection of not dying yesterday
There is a one in seven chance that today is Friday
And it is imperative that we get down on Friday
Because the anticipation for this weekend is very high
If today is Monday all of that is no longer relevant to our conversation

I am losing weight
As I lose weight more and more fat girls hit on me
I do not like this as much as what I was imagining would happen

I have learned that being funny **** cool
Like I am becoming
Does not mean hot girls will hit on me
It means they will actually think about it before saying no

To supplement my soon to be chiseled physic
I am learning a Jack Johnson song on guitar
This worked for an acquaintance in 2006
Maybe I should learn Colbie Callait instead

The world would be better if schools had better teachers
The world would also be better if high school seniors paid attention to the teachers they already have
I don't know which one is easier to fix

My past seems rosier than my future
Except in the case of February 16th 2007
And now February 16th 2012

Corner buildings and modern light fixtures are my favorite aesthetics
My favorite building has neither of those features
Those features are not that awesome

Dead flowers smell like dead things
To combat this I spray cologne on my grandma's flower
I have never been to a funeral
I wonder if they febreeze the dead people
Or maybe they use Chanel No. 5
This is something I would like to learn more about

The money I'm saving on Christmas this year
will be incredibly useful for buying more beer
I'm not buying presents for family and friends
But this festive season I will be making amends

I'll never shop early for presents to give
I swear on my mother, for as long as I live
For while looking for boxes and our Christmas tree
I found boxes of presents from seventy three

All wrapped up and labelled in a box all alone
Hidden by an old blanket that was haphazardly thrown
Beside it, more presents from around eighty four
And as I kept on searching I found many more

There were presents for Grandad, who is now pushing daisies
And a few for Aunt Marg, who we all know was crazy
Gifts for the children, who now have kids of their own
In fact almost all are for children who've grown

I found a few that were given from Santa himself
And a few for my husband on an old wooden shelf
All wrapped up and labelled and dusty as well
I'd febreeze them downstairs to get rid of the smell

I promise from now, I will write down what I hide
And I'll draw a small map to use as a guide
I can't wait now for Christmas to see what we've got
From all the Christmases past, and the gifts I forgot!

How much of what we use, is really what we need
and how much do we buy, to feed someone elses greed

We used to open windows and now we buy febreeze
then wonder why the allergies make everybody sneeze

Our homes are airtight boxes, like live-in tupperware
And yet most of us are ignorant to what poisons linger there.

We've been told that if we buy this stuff and do things in this way
Our lives will be much better, than they were just yesterday.

But yesterday the air was clear and you could hear when Robins sang
How did we ever get this far, without ylang ylang?

Billowed and pasted, rollicked and wasted,
the night takes hold and Samantha, you remember her,
she's smoking again. This is her last pack though.
Drinks poured. Drinks spilled. Kate and I are talking
like people with scheduled late afternoon love affairs. There's
a car alarm going off in the distance. I love this blouse. Is it new?
No. It looks new. I love your perfume. You aren't wearing any?
Must be a natural—and the first to arrive at the party, Chris and
Evan, they're the first to leave, and we listen intently as one, or maybe both, tumble down the stairs. There should be waivers for second floor
apartment parties. Kate, you deserve so—I know. I know. You've got this light. Jesus. I'm just saying. Is it radiant? Yes, it's radiant. And they're lighting their drinks on fire now in the kitchen, some concoction of amaretto and 151 and a kickback of Coors. The flames reflect in their eyes, their cheeks a soft amber, and most of them are smiling, not sincerely, but when was the last time you could give yourself over completely to joy? There's a siren in the distance. Someone says they're coming for us. I'm going to the bathroom. Do you need help? And there's this ceiling fan with LCD Christmas bulbs strung around the blades. A myriad of claustrophobic yellows and whites and blues. Have you seen that video of the ****** having a baby? And he brings it up on his phone. Someone says, Oh my god I love this song from the bathroom. I hadn't noticed the music before now. Drink this. What is it? You'll see. And Samantha she says she's got to step outside for a second. And someone drops a hookah coal on the beige carpet. There goes the deposit. There's incense. There's a Scentsy. There's Febreeze being sprayed liberally. Can you drive? Can you? Do you want to? You know? I've ate a lot today. The songs keep getting skipped. Parquet Courts, Michael Jackson, Lionel Richie, Chvrches, Miley Cyrus—wait, wait put on some SWIFTY. We're going to fire up in my closet if you want to join. It's a walk-in. Evan's back now. He kicks a mirrorball across the kitchen tile with Chris, who's also back now. Where's Samantha? She's smoking. She shouldn't be alone. You remember last—That won't happen again. I'm just saying. Well, you can stop saying. Sirens again. Closer. We're in the walk-in. Kate tugs on my sleeve. I take a pull off the bronze pinch hitter. Do little circles with my head. ****, she says. What? It all starts fading out, the rush of dark, the rush of light. Someone says trash can. Sirens. I'm just trying to—Shut up. I'm just trying to—Shut up.

I am from the outdoors
from Febreeze and smoked salmon
I am from the snow covered hills
and the ice covered lakes
I am from the crowded hockey rink
the cheers and jeers
and the season ticket seats
familiar and worn

I'm from hunting and fishing
from Stacy and Layne
I'm from the military
and bad eyesight
from " 'Merica!", "Let's get DOWN!"
and raps about vicious kitties
I'm from Def Leppard, George Strait
and the Beach Boys

I'm from Hacienda and Chili's
caribou sausage and moose jerky
From the fishing hook my dad
stuck in his finger
The collarbone my brother broke on the ice... twice

This is where I come from
These things are my past
and my present
But the future is in the distance
around the bend
beyond the horizon
And I am eager for it to come