UnBooks:I Know This Isn't Fair Girl, But, Your Foot Odor Has Driven Us apart. We Have To Break Up.

An Introduction to Bromohydrosis

One possible remedy for Bromohydrosis sufferers. One drawback, it doesn't really work and then you're stuck with hot feet.

Hello. My name is Dr. Podopod. I am a Podiatrist (Professional Foot Fondler). Today I'm going to discuss with you a serious foot problem called Bromohydrosis. Bromohydrosis, otherwise known as "OhmyGodyourfeetsmellSObadI'mgettingthehelloutofhereitis" is a very common disorder which affects pretty much everyone who refuses basic foot hygiene and wears shoes. It is caused by bacteria that grow on your feet and feed on your skin. Their growth is aided by ideal living conditions such as total darkness, warm moist summers, low rent, low property taxes, a permissive society that promotes having sex at an early age and on a daily basis, and access to affordable health care.

Sufferers of Bromohydrosis are generally nice people, but are simply unapproachable when the shoes come off. In fact, the Surgeon General recommends not going within 50 feet of a Bromohydrosis sufferer's shoe-less feet. Sufferers of asthma, people with an acute sense of smell and/or nursing/pregnant women should stay at least 150 feet away. If you suffer from asthma, a good nose, or pregnancy AND have Bromohydrosis...then I feel bad for you as Bromohydrosis can cause newborns to be afflicted with "Eww get those nasty things a

A common expression of pity for a sufferer of Bromohydrosis.

way from me!" foot phobia.

Bromohydrosis can be socially isolating to the affected person. Airing out your stinky feet around people can cause adverse reactions such as; "AHH RUN!!", "I'm gonna be sick..." or "YOU ARE UNDER ARREST!!" Bromohyrosis can completely destroy the minuscule chances you had at having a successful marriage/romantic relationship. It can also cause your family and friends to hate you very much. Slipping your uber-stink-feet out of your shoes even for a second could lead you to you being thrown out of a party, club, wedding, hospital, and/or heaven.

However, Bromohydrosis may be beneficial. Those with a hardcore foot fetish may absolutely ADORE the rank odor that would drive the rest of society into homicide/suicide. Unfortunately for sufferers of Bromohydrosis, foot fetishists don't actually exist except on Fox's Family Guy

Usually males are fingered for their stinky feet. Allow me to rephrase that so as to remove all sexual connotations out of the last sentence. Usually it is the MALE who is pointed to as being the biggest purveyors of foot stink. But, this has created a situation which has allowed FEMALES with ABSOLUTELY OBSCENE feet to slip through society unnoticed, that is until they take off their shoes and everybody runs away screaming.

One day not too long ago, as I was tidying up one of my patient rooms, I found a letter on the floor. I presume it was accidentally dropped by one of my most notorious patients, Sephora, who had to have had the most foul, vile, horrendously noisome feet in the Dr. Scholl's era. I couldn't help but take a peek to see what it was about and when I say take a peek, I mean open it up and read the whole thing, then share it with the office. The contents of the letter was very intriguing. Written by an ex-boyfriend, it details how Sephora's stinky feet absolutely destroyed any chances they might have had at intimacy and thus her whole relationship.

Part I: I've Never Seen You Wash Your Feet

Something you should have done a LONG time ago...

Sephora, we've been together for a long time now (8 Days!) We have had numerous trials and tribulations (like that day you spilled your ice cream and I got hit by a by a runaway NFL linebacker). When one of us needed something, the other would provide no questions asked. That time you saved me from overpaying for a pair of tube socks particularly touches my heart.

But...*sighs* I guess the reason I'm writing this to you now is that I feel that our relationship can go no further. It has come to a dead halt.

It's not your personality. You have a wonderful personality. You are funny and smart and sassy and speak in complete sentences. It's not your looks. Whenever I think about your brown curly hair, your cute little button of a nose, your abundant curves and your lazy eye, I have to excuse myself to go to the bathroom. The first time I saw you naked, I thought my penis was going to explode.

It's um... well I don't quite know how to put this but, it's your feet. It's not the way they look; you have the second prettiest toes I've ever seen next to mine. Nor is it the fact you have 7 toes and a finger on each foot that bothers me. It's the fact they smell really bad. I mean REALLY bad. REALLY REALLYFUCKING BAD.

I mean, they smell like rotting flesh placed in a toaster oven marinated in a combination of the juices left at the bottom of a full garbage bag and diarrhea. I mean, Oh My God. Do you ever even wash your feet? I've never seen you wash your feet. We would take baths together and you would always elevate your feet above the water and place them on the walls, or my head (which nearly killed me every time by the way).

Dear God... You see what happens when you don't wash your feet? This mall was teeming with people just seconds before the girls decided to be cruel. Everybody left screaming...

It all started several days ago on Tuesday when I first brought you to my apartment. Everything was going smoothly as a vaginal delivery from the gaping legs of a whore. We were on my couch touching and feeling but not kissing as your lips are always chapped:

"My feet hurt." You spoke.

"Oh don't worry purtty lady, I got some of the best hands when it comes to massaging things... *cough* especially but not limited to feet." I said slyly.

I've come to realize that line was the second biggest mistake I've ever made in my life next to the time when I was 15 and played around with that glory hole in the boy's bathroom.

So I removed your shoes very slowly and sexy-like. There were smiles on both our faces. I got the first shoe off. The smell didn't hit me at first. The fumes from your feet danced around my nose and went up my face and melted my eyebrows. Then my eyelashes caught fire. This was followed by the disintegration of my beard. With all this happening in the span of 2 seconds, the odor smoke climbed into my nostrils and I blacked out.

When I came to, you were just thinking I was having allergies to your perfume. MY EYES WERE FUCKING BLEEDING!! DOES THAT SOUND LIKE ALLERGIES TO YOU!?!? Anyway you gave me some Benadryl and a cube of cheese. The cheese really helped I think.

Part II: You are Oblivious to the Smell of Your Feet

Just a subtle way to let you know your feet stink.

After that feetful night, I was thankful for you because your feet made me appreciate how fragile life really is. The annihilation of my facial hair was no biggie, really. I just drew my eyebrows back in with a sharpie. You said I looked like a Mexican girl. Anyway, there were several toetacular incidents from there.

The next day, Wednesday, I had purchased some Carnations from "Botanical Gardens" as my cannabis growing next door neighbor calls it. I knew this would please you as Carnations are your favorite plants next to Cocoa leaves. I marched up to your apartment door feeling proud of myself. "Nothing can ruin this date." I thought naively. You opened the door just as I was about to knock:

If people react this way to your feet, your feet might actually smell.

"Have you been nervously peeking outside for the last hour and a half in anticipation of myself as if you had nothing better to do?" Said I.

"Yes...have you been watching me watching for you?" You replied.

"Um, no..yes..." I responded.

We stared at each other for a moment before you leaped into my arms and we started kissing and tonguing like a dog trying to get to the pudding at the bottom of a pudding cup. We were headed on a collision course for the couch....we didn't even make it to the couch. I ripped off your shirt and you pulled my pants off with your teeth.

And so there we were, on the floor squirming like a couple of meal worms, in the nude and on the floor squirming, like a couple of meal worms squirming in the nude, on the floor, like a couple of...sorry I drifted off there for a moment. Hmm, well this is a letter, I could easily just correct the redundancy in that last sentence and no one will know the difference. Oh wait a minute, I'm on a frikkin typewriter and I don't even have any white out. Oh look, a pigeon just landed on the windowsill. Their droppings are white, right? I could just...FUCK. I got to stop thinking out loud with my fingers.

I started kissing you all over. I kept going lower and lower and lower till I got to that special place on a women's body but you interrupted:

"Doodlez, you don't have to go there if you d..."

"NO Sephora it's o.k. I like the smell of fish. Since I'm Japanese, it's all I eat anyway." I joked.

"You're Japanese? I thought you were clearly African Americaaaa OOO OOO OMG OMG ROFLMFAO. AHH AHH AHH AHHHH DON'T STOP PLEEEEZ!!"

I never thought a woman could get so excited by eating a Tuna Fish sandwich off her tummy. So, after I finished my meal, I continued going lower and lower and lower I mean REALLY lower. There I was at your Kankles, gently licking around the area. While I was going to town on your right leg, I missed you slip off your left shoe. With my eyes closed I switched to your left leg, suddenly stopping cold at a now all too familiar stench. I opened my eyes to confront the horror. I stared at your toes for a few seconds, trembling. I thought to myself, "Self, FIGHT IT!! Throw up with your mouth closed, throw up with your mouth CLOSED!!"

I heaved all over your feet and the floor:

"Eww! It feels like I'm stepping in mashed potatoes!" You say.

"I'm so sorry Sephora, I have ruined yet another date." I retort.

"No It's O.K. This is not the first time this has happened." You explain.

"Wow." I mumbled.

"It must be those damn Carnations."

Oh really Sephora? It's the Carnations huh? Really. Really. REALLY!??! It's REALLY the scent of some COTTDAMN flowers that caused me to throw up all over your living room? Really? Sephora, do you have a sense a smell? Does the Olfactory Bulb in your nose need replacement? Even your NEIGHBORS in DIFFERENT apartment complexes complain about your stanky feet. Your are oblivious, my love. You are oblivious to the smell of your own feet.

Part III: For the Love of God, Keep Your Shoes On

You can expect this type of reaction every time the shoes come off.

Thursday marked our first and last official argument. I invited you over to my place that day for some R&R and conversation. No agenda really. I certainly want didn't to have sex with you. Especially not after the unfortunate events of the previous days. Just some platonic activities such as, staring into each other's eyes, hugging, petting, petting heavily and licking.

I thought maybe we could watch a DVD too. I brought out a top of the line movie, Lindsey Lohan's I know Who Killed Me for us to enjoy. So I pop in the DVD and I put my arm and leg around you as we kicked back on my futon. Everything was flowing as easily as a 20 year rap veteran. But then I spotted something very odd.

There seemed to be a trail of smoke coming from your side of the coffee table where your legs were propped up. Just then I noticed your left heel had popped out of your hello kitty sneakers. The smoke was coming from your shoe and the only thing I could think was "What the...?" The smoke seemed to be rising to the ceiling and since the fan was on Hi, the smoke was pushed out the window. It was at this point I had a startling realization:

"Oh my God, Sephora...slip your feet back in your shoes. Hurry!"

"What? Why? My feet hurt." You reply

"Just trust me please..." I plead.

"I don't appreciate you bossing me around, Doodlez." You taunt.

"I'm not bossing you arou..."

I cut myself off as I watched in horror you kick both your shoes off completely, causing one to fly into my aquarium. The shoe quickly sank to the bottom of the tank. The unholy footwear reacted chemically with the water and caused it to bubble and in a matter of seconds, my rare assortment of tropical fish plus a salamander I caught earlier completely dissolved into their skeletal states and then those skeletons dissolved into a pile of goo. The other shoe landed near the kitchen entrance. Clouds of smoke plumed from the rancid shoe's interior and caused my expensive starfish patterned wallpaper to peel.

"Oops." You cackle.

" You <font="7"> Bitch!"

In a rage, I lunged toward you with my arms outstretched. Doodlez was gonna have to choke a bitch. But you managed to push me off you with your fat rolls. I fell to the ground. Just then you looked around the room, saw the smoke rising from your shoe and watched how in every area the smoke covered, something died/ melted.

I could tell by the creases on your forehead you were having a revelation. *My Feet = Odor!* I saw the evil smile that fell on your face. You took one of your legs, I can't remember which as this part is a little blurry and put your foot 3 inches from my face.

HAZMAT team, here to ruin save the day.

With malice in your voice you commanded me to:

"INHALE!!"

"GYAAAAAAAAAH!!!" I screamed! "She's trying to kill me, help!"

I started to gag, my eyes watered and drool escaped from the corner of my mouth. You were suffocating me with your odorous feet. Suddenly, at the front door there was a loud *THUD* as it flew open and men in white Hazmat suits quickly stormed the room.

"Everybody get on the ground NOW!" Commanded the HAZMAT A-HOLES

In a few seconds my apartment was quarantined, with the both of us being placed in separate white plastic sheath-like sterile environments; germ free bubbles. I chimed in.

"Uhh, can we have an explanation for this?"

They answer. "Oh my bad yea. Umm, this apartment is a health hazard. A trail of smoke which originated from your apartment was creating a thick smog over the city. Many car accidents and incidents of people fainting were reported. Also, a plane crashed. We believe the object of origin is her (he points to you) sneakers. You are being quarantined because you have been exposed to dangerous amounts of radiation."

I inquire.

"WTF?!You mean from her 'feet'?"

"Yep. Her feet aren't so much "feet" as they are...radioactive phosphorous bombs to the smell receptacle." Said the Hazmat guy.

Sephora spoke. "Oh geez...I'm a little embarrassed."

"From now on, keep you and your noxious pieds away from me and my apartment. And for the love of God, keep your damn shoes on!" I yelped.

Part IV: Your Stinky Feet Gave My Dog Cancer

This is what my Chihuahua looked like after getting a hold of one of your slippers. R.I.P.

Yesterday morning after not speaking to you for a three whole days, I thought about you. I didn't want to though, I was forced. A few days earlier, I had taken my Mexican Chihuahua, Leviathian, to the vet. He had been feeling a little under the weather for a short while; sneezing, howling, high fever, suffering incontinence, bleeding from the nose, ears and eyes, and generally dying and what not.

I spoke to my vet that day after Leviathan had been examined. He assured me, Leviathan would be alright. Yesterday morning, I got the results back from his examination over the phone. The vet told me:

"Just as a I suspected, Leviathan is just fine".

I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Or at least he would be if he didn't have terminal cancer!"

Keep those OUTSIDE please!! No, the shoes not the cat..

I was absolutely crushed. He continued;

"The type of cancer Leviathan has, Nasal Nostriloma, is a type of cancer found exclusively in animals that sniff around extremely smelly/radioactive areas."

I just about punched a hole in my wall.

"Has your dog been exposed to...?"

I interrupted.

"My girlfriend has Bromohydrosis."

"Oh yea, well that probably did it. Hehe. Tell your girl to get some odor eaters!" The vet mocked.

I shot back!

"Doctor this isn't the ti.."

He cut me off.

"Your dog has 15 minutes to live." *Click*

Well there you have it. Your feet are deadly to animals. I'm calling PETA.

Part VIVIcafoxx: This is Goodbye

This last week has truly been the worst of my life. The good times we had with each other...seem so far away now. The good times are being held hostage in a dark, soundproof room with it's arms tied behind it's back and your feet dangerously close to it's face. I cannot overstate how bad your feet actually smell. I'm sure you could just as easily high-jack a plane by threatening to take off your shoes as you could by wielding a box cutter. Your feet smell so bad, it looks as if the toes on your feet have spread in different directions in an attempt to escape. Your shoes should be sprayed with disinfectant for 8 hours and wrapped in aluminum foil and placed in a deodorized shoe box which should be kept in an airtight Tupperware container which should be kept in the locked drawer of a fridge surrounded by 35 chains, which should be kept in a bathysphere sent to the bottom of the Marianas Trench guarded by torpedoes should anyone/thing dare to disturb it. To think, this whole thing could have been avoided if you just washed your feet with soap and water and maybe ethyl alcohol and invested in some foot powder.

By now you should know there is no chance of us getting back together unless maybe you...cut off your feet and throw them in a volcano (I'd be more than happy to carry you around on my back). But you should remember this, no matter how many people's sense of smell you have destroyed, no matter how many beards disintegrate, no matter bad your feet smell, I will always have a thing for you...

Goodbye Forever!

Her toes attempting to escape her own feet. Man, that is funny to look at. ^^