Skeet

Last year, something possessed the wife to buy a "pitcher plant". She placed it on the windowsill in the kitchen, a rather large area behind the kitchen sink that's surrounded by a garden window on three sides. The plant sits there amongst the african violets, little potted bamboos, and various orchid plants. The pitcher plant has done very well in this location and has sprouted about a dozen little "pitchers". Apparently around this time of the year, the pitcher plant decides to have a flowering bloom on it's main stem. Unfortunately, this bloom has a very distinct odor.

Yesterday, as the wife was sitting on one end of the kitchen counter reading the Sunday newspaper ads, I wandered into the kitchen to wash a bowl or cup or something in the kitchen sink.

me: I saw your friend Mary at the store yesterday.
the wife: Oh. (continues flipping through the Target ad)
me: Damn, this area really smells like fresh semen!
the wife: WHAT?! You got that close to her?
me: =:o
the wife: Wait, what did you say? Did you say her hair smelled of semen?
me: =:o