It’s An Ancient Whiff

It’s one of those T-shirts that sat for too long before drying.

The T-shirt smelt absolutely fine this morning.

But I walked to class today, and now, as the threads warm up from the increase in body heat, they begin to release their ancient whiff — the whiff of a t-shirt that sat wet for too long.

I never asked for this crap, but I’ve become like Larry D’Marzianonono, whose t-shirts continually whiffed of the whiff. No one blamed Larry, though. He was a young and enthusiastic inventor who came up with a safety device for a car that punched you in the balls whenever you fell asleep while driving.

And I know you’re thinking, what a rad idea, Larry. The trouble was that he set it too high, to begin with, and ended up with an elevated testicle and severe PTSD when the overzealous ‘sock in the nads’ caused him to hit a group of disabled tourists.

And since then, Larry always struggled with everyday tasks.

I, on the other hand, don’t have such a well-thought-out, fictional excuse.

And now I have to sit up front with my rather attractive economics teacher, who would never carry even the mildest whiff, aside from the mystical perfume she wears, which hums of unknown puddings consumed in…