And on this Thanksgiving, Scary-Crayon has a new episode of Dusty Plastic HELL for you! Among other things, you can be thankful you're not me. I don't have that luxury. :/

And wow, Bloody Mary, you rule! Not as the virgin mother of Jesus who repays children who mock you by saying your name in the mirror three times (or five times, depending upon the established rules), but as a drink. By the way, why would the virgin mother of our supposed Lord and Savior become a child-murdering vengeful ghost in folklore? That's weird. Or is it Mary Magdalene who is the Bloody Mary, exacting vengeance upon humanity for necessitating the death and sacrifice of her beloved Jesus? It all makes no sense, but perhaps the concept could be examined further in a SC feature. I'd enjoy that, I think.

And yesterday morning, shortly after a woman boarded the bus, a strong and unmistakable odor made its way to the rear, where I was sitting, and brought me out of my sleepy anti-morning haze with a start. I would write that this pungent stink was unlike anything I have ever smelled before, except that it was not quite so unique -- yea, I had smelled this familiar funk before, but only in one other place, and that was many years ago. Yes, this stench -- this unholy, malodorous amalgamation of pesticides and black licorice -- was a stench... from the past. YES!

Somewhere, on the perfume rack of an unnamed department store, they are selling the bottled essence of Stinkor.

For this, I am thankful. Ja!