Smells Like... What?

The material projection of the contents of my mind smells of all the women that he fantasizes about yet cannot have.

Winona Ryder and no one else, not even Maria Sharapova smells too good to be true.

Worldwide anarchy and free hugs for everyone smells of something from Team America:World Police.

Something lurking in the deepest, darkest recesses of my uncle Harry's sock drawer smells like something that should be better off not disturbed or awoken.

A chance encounter of an Avon lady with Napoleon Bonaparte at a garden party smells like a plot from a long forgotten Mel Brooks movie.

Surgical spirit impregnated with walnut oil and tabasco smells of a failed recipe in a Soho dive cajun restaurant just down the street from the Chinese laundry.

A mixture of beansprouts, chicken, mixed spice and the last pair of socks ever worn by a dead Oriental potentate smells like a ride on an Albania elevator in Tirana.

One hell of a good time that should not be missed by anyone.....especially anyone of either political party smells like cushion covers that have been accidentally urinated upon by a bevy of badgers 

The summer cottage of a half-blind 72-year-old animal-loving serial killer smells of Dick Cheney's plan to take over the publisher clearinghouse sweepstakes and use the funds to overthrow a third world countries government.

In that case I suppose that Dick Cheney's plan to take over the publisher clearinghouse sweepstakes and use the funds to overthrow a third world countries government smells like a Cracker Jack-sponsored minivan race through the forests of ancient Chicago.