SOUP MAY NOT SOLVE BODY ODOURS

Sometimes my eyes play tricks on me, and cause mental activity which might be odd. The image of someone scrubbing their pits furiously with chicken noodle soup, purely imaginary, is now permanently burned upon my inner retinas. Thank you, advertising department, for unintentionally causing distress. I shan't look at chicken noodle soup the same way ever.

Not your fault.

For some reason I decided not to have wonton noodle soup, but had garlic sauce chicken cutlets and rice (蒜蓉雞扒飯 'suen yung gai paa faan') instead. Which was good, albeit a bit fibrous. Pounded chicken breaded and deepfried, sliced up and served with a bowl of garlic gravy. With two cups of HK milk tea (港式奶茶 'gong sik naai chaa').

Pipe in Waverly afterwards. Where it was cold and gloomy, almost like the industrial area of a European city (Eindhoven) early in Autumn.

People watching both while dining and when smoking was enjoyable.
No, I didn't imagine them all scrubbing themselves.
In the shower, richly reeking of stock.
And covered with noodles.

I am by no means a pervert. I just have an acute and over-active mental eye.
It's like having my own movie theatre in my head at times.


Soup may not solve body odours. But it might disguise them, and make them delicious.
If anyone puts that into practise, I will claim credit while denying responsibility.

My own body odour is a comforting melange of shower soap, aged Virginia tobacco smoke, notes of oak, leather, bookshelves, woodmoss, and fairy dust.
Carotenoids, faintly coloured with terpeneol.
Slight tannic hint.



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