There are some who call me...Tim

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2008-04-03 —

Smelly Kelly

We call him Smelly Kelly (quite rightly)

Yesterday Christine, Stephen, and I had the misfortune of running across the most foul, rank, fetid, putrid, acrid, and wretchedly unwashed person that has lived since the invention of running water. He’s an electrician here on the job site, and came round to our new trailer to run a phone line for us and get our fax machine hooked up.

I had seen him before, of course, running conduit, and the like – doing things that the other sparkys do. I had obviously never been in close quarters with this shit-beast, however, since I never knew the depths of stench that could torture the olfactory nerves. It actually hurt.

Christine first pointed it out to me. Smelly Kelly was dicking with the phone jack right next to her work station, and I was across the trailer. I thought at first I was getting the Bucky’s backdraft, but no shitter smelled quite so pungent – even one very recently used. After a few minutes he start fumble-fucking around with the copier/fax machine, which is next to my desk, and I had to open the windows. Christine actually left the trailer entirely and went to the other site.

Kelly is about 6’2”, 250lbs (or near to 18 stone for those of you joining us from the UK) and is fairly hairy round the face and head, except on top. His clothing is rumpled and dirty, and we surmised from the reek that he is at least 3 weeks unwashed at this point. On this particular day, he was wearing a thoroughly soiled 2XL hoodie sweatshirt proudly emblazoned with “Triangles Gentlemen’s Club”. One of the guys here in our group inquired about the place, to which Kelly sadly replied “It was only open for about 8 months.” I figure the smell from his frequenting the place was so bad that it kept other people out. Sad.

At one point he reached behind to scratch his back and his shirt lifted, exposing some of the "skin" on his back. I didn’t witness this for myself, but Stephen did, and he reports that Smelly Kelly’s back is covered in hives. Stink pustules, if you will. That’s fucking gross. This skunk needs a bath in tomato juice. I’m not kidding.

Now the other trades here all know about Smelly Kelly, but they refer to him as “Stink Monkey” (that funky monkey) and they say his nickname in a little sing-song voice. This pig pen has his own fucking theme song he is so infamous. Not the kind of notoriety I would want.

So boys and girls, if you are averse to showering do the world a favor and at least get stuck in a deluge rainstorm for a few hours. I’m just sayin’…

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Want to comment? Speak up! 2 Quips to Date

Christine - 2008-04-03 16:07:06
Whoo-eee. Ripe. I almost had to wash the smell out of my hair.
Liz - 2008-04-07 14:05:37
Maybe you should say something to him...hehehehe.

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