Smelly Cat, Smelly Cat, It's Not Your Fault

I had the wierdest near-death experience last night. I was autoerotically asphyxiating myself while watching Girls Next Door and I must have been doing it wrong because I immediately got the hiccups. I was at a loss because holding your breath is supposed to get rid of them. I decided to tighten the choker another notch and the next thing I know I'm seeing my life pass before my nose. I caught whiffs of memories from my childhood; the smell of Topps Baseball Card's powdery "bubble gum", the malodor of my oldest brother Andy's feet when he played the "Smell My Feet" game, the musty stench of our cellar after a knee hockey game. So many memories.

I could recall odors both enticing and offensive. Some I associated with events, such as setting my arm on fire in a bizarre cooking accident. Others I associated with people. I distinctly remembered the perfume of an older woman when I was 16 (She was 18). She kissed me on the dance floor of a party because she knew my friends were watching. She said, "Let's give them something to talk about" and she proceeded to give me the kiss of a lifetime (to that point).

There were no images associated with these memories, only the smells. They ran by in an olfactory montage that I wish I could have recorded on the Aromacorder that I've been trying to invent for the past 10 years. The science of scent is still largely thought of as quackery, but I vow to make a breakthrough before I die.

To answer your question, my wife loosened the choker around my neck a few minutes later and told me to stop playing with myself or I'd go blind. I gasped like a fat man on a treadmill and told her it would be better than being an anosmiac.