perhaps it smells of permanence and stability or impermanence and instability? Hey, wait a consarned minute! Little Luke, bring me my corn-cob pipe. Where has that little puke gotten off to? Pepina, Pepina! Gol' darn crazy ranch hand, he's probly off rollin with Conchita again. Hm, ah Conchita! YES! Dangit! YES, YES, YES! Wait a minute, this ain't no campus.