I’m reading a pseudo-detective novel and its text is liberally sprinkled with amusing sentences that make me smile.  My knowledge of French is extremely limited, but I’m pretty sure I know what this means and it made me laugh out loud.

After twelve years employed as a sewer engineer for Hydro-Québec, Huck had acquired a faint, but persistent, “l’air du poop” that wouldn’t go away, no matter how much he showered nor how many gallons of Old Spice that he put on.