I laughed when my dad bought some Israeli military-issue gas masks for the family in case of some, what, gas-related emergency? You know, it was the '80s, and dad had a few "survivalist" friends who seemed bent on being able to live in an underground bomb shelter stocked with an arsenal and a convenience store.
But Lomax spends several hours a day under my desk while I'm at work, and I'm not ashamed to admit that one or two of those gas masks would come in handy right about now.
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The following is a transcript of an actual telephone conversation I had with Jenny on October 4, 2005:
Jenny (reacting): "Oh! He's sitting right by me."
Amy (in the background, loudly): "Oh my gosh!"
The sound of air-freshener being sprayed into the room is followed by lots of commotion and hysterical laughter.
Jenny (returning to phone): "It was awful! Oh my. That's not good at all."
A bit later. . .
Jenny: "He's especially fragrant at night."
A bit later. . .
Jenny: "I swear, somebody's been feeding him cabbage and broccoli."
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