A particularly
nasty,
crusty, fast advancing rash or skin eruption. For some reason it appears to strike only chrome-plated, 360 degree assholes, while leaving the virtuous unscathed. By so doing, it restores ones
faith in the mysteries of life.
Alarmed Fellow:"
Don't sit in that chair---Mayson just got up from there, and he has the galloping crud!"
Unconcerned Grand Guy:"
Don't worry--Mayson's a dirt-bag, but I have my
aura of righteousness to protect me."