A little-known device invented to allow two people to communicate across large distances that could collect and transmit audial and olfactory information. Despite the inventor's enthusiasm, this never caught on, and only a few small phone companies in the midwest provide transmission of the smella-signal.
The commercial went something like this:
Smellaphone! Smellaphone!
For only fifty dollas, you could have your own.
Smellaphone! Smellaphone!
It would be likeone great big smelly ice cream cone.
A jaw dropping assault on your olfactory sense when enter the men's room on the turnpike, cheap bar or Mexican restaurant, often resulting in bringing tears to your eyes and taxes your ability to hold your breath. A seemingly unnatural smell that cannot be disguised with perfumes, flowery sprays and industrial strength deodorants and has a half life similar to Plutonium (Pu). The everyday manifestation of what Carl Jung was really referring to in man's inhumanity to man.
Upon entering the port-o-potty in the stadium parking lot, the carnage there was so smellavicious, I wanted to cut off my nose and hide it in a pile of corned beef and and cabbage for some fresh air.
The grindset is a contemporary ideology of self-exploitation disguised as strength, deeply tied to the aesthetics of the “sigma male” and to new digital forms of patriarchy. It promotes the idea that human worth depends on productivity, economic success, absolute emotional control, and the ability to work endlessly, turning vulnerability, rest, community, and tenderness into signs of weakness. Beneath its rhetoric of discipline and power often lies a profound inability to relate healthily to pain, fragility, and human interdependence.
“That’s the grindset, brother. While weak men sleep and complain, sigma males stay disciplined, work in silence, suppress emotions, and build power while everyone else wastes time chasing comfort.”