The Google Game
“the place reeked of”
For those new to the game, this is how it works: I pick a phrase and go to Google. I type it in the search box, with quote marks around it, like so: “the place reeked of” … I then search through the returns for interesting snippets and copy them into a new blog. I add my smart remarks to them, now color-coded for your reading ease, and voila! A new game is born.
The place reeked of decades’ worth of spilled beer, soaked into multiple pieces of scrounged carpet, the original had long since rotted away. But no one ever said that visiting the in-laws would be pleasant, so Sally stepped over her future brother-in-law, lying passed out in the floor and shook hands with Ricky’s dad.
The place reeked of urine and a terrible perfume they sprayed to mask it. But members of that congregation and I couldn’t stay away. This was a traditional tent revival, after all, and the first person to leave got branded. No one wanted a scar like that for life. We all made our way carefully to the altar and said earnest prayers for deliverance. That deliverance was not to come that night and the next morning, Harold walked away crying and rubbing his behind slowly.
The place reeked of home. The aroma reached out to the landing, put its arms around me and walked me through the front door. Yup, burnt dinner on the stove and cigarette smoke – all of the comforts of home without the usual soundtrack of fighting and barking hunting dawgs! I opened the fridge, downed a Bud and banged it on the kitchen table, shattering glass everywhere. Yes, this was now my home.
The place reeked of farm fertilizer, but at our picnic tables we were not dissuaded. Oh, Idahoans, please remember the fragrant breeze of Lewiston in summer. The breeze that dissuaded even the ants from attending and gently flavored our potato salad with something new, unusual and alarming. Yes, Lewiston in the summer – the summer of vast food poisoning and bleeding nostrils. Ahhh … the photos stashed away in my scrapbook for that afternoon!
They had a wild party with a band while I was there – at 1 am the place reeked of sweat and coconut oil. There was also on the air that night a faint breeze of KY Jelly and baked goods. Purely coincidental, though. Or so the guest thought at first.
The place reeked of record execs and Hollywood wanna be’s. A smell far worse than garbage and old, stagnant water – the cologne of desperation!
The place reeked of it and the sounds of moans and groans as numerous rods pounded countless openings. Yes, my summer job at the furniture factory caused more than one lonely man to resort to earplugs, lest he lose his sanity in the break room.
… previous google game …
