It having been some considerable time since a fresh wittering from me...
Ben Franklin apparently once said 'Guests, like fish, begin to smell after three days.'
I'm wondering if they maybe had cancer?
My body smell seems to have recently changed - and not for the better (it was never that good to begin with).
Had the hormone treatment not reduced my cognitive ability (which also was never that good to begin with) to 'about zero' (honestly, I've known bananas smarter than I now am), the choices would likely be simple...
#1 Fully embrace my testosterone-free life, and use gallons(yes, it's that bad) of perfume to mask the odour (a new handbag wouldn't go amiss, either).
#2 Pretend I'm still a 'proper bloke', and wear appropriately soiled work clothes. (Enjoying gardening, perhaps I could get one of those Monty Don sweaters and cart a bag of horse cr*p around with me - thus replacing my current undesirable aroma with something definitely more agreeable.)
#3 ...I don't know. Is there a #3? Ah... yes... wait for the radiotherapy to trigger incontinence, and thus be able to walk around all day stinking of widdle (honestly mate, it could hardly be worse). Hhhmmm... yes, that sounds like a plan. Other than putting a bit of a damper on the carol singing, what could possibly go wrong?
'And with that, he was gorn agin.'
Edited by member 16 Oct 2018 at 14:38
| Reason: 'Excess carriage returns blight my life.' And it's Tuesday.