http://www.sodblog.com/general/sod-that-is-bad/sod-was-camped-out-at-kohls-at-four-this-morning/ The Snark Leader Thu, 08 Jul 2010 21:50:19 -0700 http://wordpress.org/?v=2.9.2 hourly 1 http://www.sodblog.com/general/sod-that-is-bad/sod-was-camped-out-at-kohls-at-four-this-morning/comment-page-1/#comment-50 Erik H Mon, 26 Nov 2007 17:02:49 +0000 http://www.sodblog.com/sod/sod-was-camped-out-at-kohls-at-four-this-morning/#comment-50 That is disgusting. Thankfully, the only stink originating in our back room came from all the bodies we had stashed back there. Just like every other Kmart I've ever been to. That is disgusting. Thankfully, the only stink originating in our back room came from all the bodies we had stashed back there. Just like every other Kmart I’ve ever been to.

]]> http://www.sodblog.com/general/sod-that-is-bad/sod-was-camped-out-at-kohls-at-four-this-morning/comment-page-1/#comment-34 admin Fri, 23 Nov 2007 22:02:07 +0000 http://www.sodblog.com/sod/sod-was-camped-out-at-kohls-at-four-this-morning/#comment-34 that's disgusting. that’s disgusting.

]]> http://www.sodblog.com/general/sod-that-is-bad/sod-was-camped-out-at-kohls-at-four-this-morning/comment-page-1/#comment-33 Crystal Fri, 23 Nov 2007 21:56:57 +0000 http://www.sodblog.com/sod/sod-was-camped-out-at-kohls-at-four-this-morning/#comment-33 The back room in one of the stores I worked at stank of feet, because all of the girls in their 4-inch-high sweaty, leather heels of power would deposit their shoes at the stockroom door the second the door closed. Then they would pad around the back room barefoot, spreading that funky smell associated with cramming your feet into thin, pointy-toed instruments of fashion torture. The stockroom was where your nose went to die, but where your feet went to be free. The back room in one of the stores I worked at stank of feet, because all of the girls in their 4-inch-high sweaty, leather heels of power would deposit their shoes at the stockroom door the second the door closed. Then they would pad around the back room barefoot, spreading that funky smell associated with cramming your feet into thin, pointy-toed instruments of fashion torture. The stockroom was where your nose went to die, but where your feet went to be free.

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