A Revelation for the Nation

Have you ever frequented a Chinese restaurant in NYC or visited Chinatown and wondered "What in the f is that smell? Its putrid, yet familiar, but I just cant put my finger on it!"? Of course you have. Well folks, look no further because I have finally solved this age old mystery of stomach churning, rage inducing, lo mein-craving-killing stink.
Tonight on my ride home from school on the good ol' LIRR (which will get its own bible of bitching transcribed as we go along here), I was *this* close to not being squished into the window by another commuter. The doors were closing, that beep sound was beeping, and I was about to take hold of my ample ball space when a man of Asian descent sat down next to me. I soon realized that he was actually Chinese, as I'm taking Mandarin this semester and could read some of the characters on his iPhone and make out a few words in his conversation. Due to sheer annoyance, I did not at first notice anything odd about him. No, it wasn't until he scrunched up next to me to get his wallet out of his back pocket that I noticed the old familiar stench.

And then, as if the power of Christ himself compelled me, I realized:

Chinese men smell like my tampon after 8 hours of heavy flow.



To the guys reading this,
just trust me.

To the ladies,
youre welcome for this Aha! moment. Im like a racist Oprah, bitch.

If that didnt weed out the gays, I dont know what will.