An ever-growing horror...

I share the events of today in the hope that someone will read back over some of the aspects of my life and tell me it's all totally normal.  I might then feel better and the suspicions that there is a cosmic conspiracy against me might start to fade.  In short, The Fates have again yanked my chain and y'know, I just wish I could have seen my face throughout that half hour.  

...for that's all it took.  HALF A FUCKING HOUR to make me question my purpose on this planet again.  Let me start - oh, and for the non-believers please let me reiterate that everything I write is the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth (with my jaded comedian's view of the matter).

Let me set the scene.  As regular readers know I share a house with my best friend 'The Tidiness Nazi'.  I am in fact the 'anti-tidiness Nazi' so I guess that would make me her nemesis in some way. Not only this, I am frequently a monumental fuck up to the point I'm not allowed to use the kitchen if she's not around.  There have only been a couple of fires and scaldings.....and an electrocution but I still maintain I'm an adult and should be treated so.  I also share the house with an elderly cat who has mental health issues and will not go out during daylight hours, a hairy dog with a form of extreme medical stupidity and a mostly bald dog who not only eats all of the cat's food but also loves me to the point of ridiculousness.  Today, the Tidiness Nazi went out for the day and left me in charge of the critters.  

Things HAD been going well; I'd cleared the junk off the window sill of my bedroom and had started to put the cat food up there which the cat was enjoying.  She now sits in the partly open window enjoying the stuff other cats do when they are outside.  The hairy dog was downstairs occasionally woofing at passers by and running in and out of the back yard.  The bald dog?  Why, he was curled up with me having a lie in.  

The time came to get up, do my laundry and consider getting ready to take the dogs for a lovely walk at the creek.  I started to bimble about and worked my way downstairs.  Hey, the sun's shining and it's a beautiful day.  I'd love to eat something but I'm not allowed in the kitchen.  Sigh........

I went upstairs and, through the open door of the Tidiness Nazi's bedroom, I spied a line of drips of rather wet dog shit.  Turning to my faithful hound I yelled the usual "What have you done!" He, realising he was in for a right Royal bollocking, headed off down the stairs and out into the garden.  Tutting, I wearily got the cleaning gear out and made good before the Nazi returned home and we were all collectively in trouble.

I then went into MY room to find.............the most enormous wet dog skid mark I have ever seen.  ON MY FUCKING BED!  "OH JESUS CHRIST" I yelled out loud this time as I wearily started to strip the bed.  As I got to the side nearest to the window I actually stopped with horror.

Yup, the next horror stopped time momentarily.  There was partially digested CAT FOOD VOMIT all down the wall, on the floor and all over my stuff which included shoes, a soft turtle toy I use as a pillow sometimes and paperwork.  Eyes wide I tried to take in the scene.  There was FAR too much vomit for one cat, I've seen cat vomit in my time but I'm sure her stomach couldn't have held THIS much food!  Couldn't the little bastard have done  it out of the window?  Did she invite other cats in THROUGH the open window for a feline bulimia party?  I think "FOR FUCKSAKE!" my expletive of choice on this occasion.

...you think this is all?  

You'd be wrong.

I stripped the bed and threw everything down stairs ready for the laundry.  I was wondering where I would find the mental strength to deal with the wall of vomit but deal with it I must.  Even more wearily I went back into the Tidiness Nazi's room to fetch the cleaning stuff......

...It was only NOW that I spotted the enormous turd and a diarrhea IN HER BED - NEXT TO THE PILLOW!  The shitty drips had been just a warning of the true horror within that room.  I think that one of my eyes started to twitch at that point, my hand became a claw and the words got stuck in my throat.  I think I tried to yell "HOLY MOTHER FUCKING FAAACK JESUS ON A FUCKING FUCK FUCK FUUUUUCKING FUCK!" ...or words to that effect, but they just came out as "Jejeje ffffffffffff".  Starting to seriously die inside I cleared up the turds and stripped off her bed.  By this time the little dog had come to the bottom of the stairs to see what was going on.  In an act of wasted breath I yelled at  him a bit more until he ran back outside to play happily in the sun.  

By this time, my mental capacity was becoming diminished and I stomped around upstairs muttering to myself and thanking the deities for taking the piss out of me again.  Heading back into her room I noticed something which made my blood run cold

A shitty partial shoe print on the Nazi's mattress.

Had I not had enough? The more I looked around me the more I noticed there were shitty footprints all over the fucking house.

With dawning horror I looked at the bottom of my shoes.  Yes.  You are there already aren't you?  There was undiscovered shit and I'd trod in it and walked it ALL OVER THE HOUSE.  

Fearful of an embolism I said  nothing.  I tried to clean the bottom of the shoes in the sink but hell, they had knobbly bottoms.  OF COURSE THEY HAD KNOBBLY BOTTOMS which meant that the shit was nice and embedded in.  I might even have started to laugh manically to myself at this point.  I know I uttered no other word as I went around the upstairs of the house on my hands and knees cleaning up my own shitty footprints.  I found the other shit site.  Foolish of me to have not started at the beginning and worked out that that the sequence was BED - RUG NEXT TO THE BED - DRIP ACROSS THE FLOOR - ONTO SKET'S BED FOR AN ARSE WIPE (horrified cat vomits?).

That's the problem with being a detective - if your first clue isn't the start of the mystery you end up with shit everywhere.  Ask Sherlock Holmes. 

The dead woman's case thing pt.3 - Bring Out Your Dead

Hello again. There's quite a bit of death in my travel diary today but I'll get to that in a bit.

....you want it now don't you? You awful lot. What is it with people and their morbid fascination with death? Talking about death (she said with morbid fascination) I had a weird head twinge this afternoon. It wasn't a twinge I was familiar with and so got lost in thought wondering whether I was about to have an embolism and drop dead at work which would be an awful place to breathe your last. My mind wandered to my underwear and I realised with a slight amount of shame that, having been away and not having fully dried my holiday laundry, I was down to the last dregs of my underpants and was in fact wearing some dreadful pink things with a run in them and weird faded patches. I then concluded that perhaps I was internally acidic and wondered how one becomes more alkali. After a while I came out of my reverie and noticed the weird twinge had gone so that was alright then. No death for me today, no siree!

Oh yeah, the work colleague who had the 'arse' with me couldn't keep up the pressure she'd put on herself and broke down to be nice to me. I'm quite upset really, if yer gonna decide you've got some principles then bloody stand by them and give me the evil eye, stand with your back to me, ignore me, just don't give me the cold shoulder for ONE measly day over an issue that really doesn't affect you and which is actually quite funny! Sigh, people nowadays just don't have enough bitterness coursing through their veins, I tell you!

Any way, here's pt. 3 of the travel diary:

Sunday 19th September 2010 - Mom and I were the last people down for the coach to Heathrow. Bleedin' hell! Mom apologised to everyone when we got on board and one person kindly told us we may be last but weren't actually late (phew!). Prior to getting on the bus and after realising the staff were waiting for just us, my Mother went a bit panicky and, well I don't know what she was trying to do, but she seemed to set off walking in a determined fashion to somewhere in the distance. Once stopped, the driver started to laugh and leaned in towards me saying

"Make sure your Mom has a wee before she gets on the plane"

Random. I was kinda glad my haunted case fell over on him now.

Check-In went smoothly and they accepted the passport I never thought I'd get after behaving like a total cretin at the American Embassy (you know I'm a dual national don't you?) and answering simple questions about myself incorrectly and signing my name in a totally different script than my usual signature before laughing like a machine gun in a panicked high pitched voice with wide eyes. During the wait to board we did nothing but run everyone down - people with kids/strollers a bloke in a woollen hat, a snot-faced woman, people stretched out on the seats, people eating like pigs - you point 'em out, we'll insult them quietly to each other. Y'know the film Love Actually? It opens and closes with an airport and talks about all the love which can be found there. Not where I was sitting. The stench of flatulence and burgers was all around, but love? Nah, kids having tantrums and me willing parents to lose it and hit them. THAT was EVERYWHERE around the area we sat. The thing that particularly peeved my Mother was the amount of hand luggage some people had with them. Actual suitcases on wheels in some cases! Who needs to drag so much shit around with them?

So, we got on the flight and I got the window seat which was great. It was next to the wing so I couldn't help but think about William Shatner on that Twighlight Zone episode where the monkey thing pulls chunks off the thing. Still, you don't hear about monkey things on wings very often so I guessed everything would be ok so long as the ailerons and Petot tubes took care of themselves (I really must stop watching Air Crash Investigation). It's ALWAYS the ailerons or the bleedin' Petot Tubes that cause the crashes on that show. They should...well, I don't know what they should do but whatever they should do they SHOULD do it and fortunately, on my flight they DID!

I was excited to find an episode of 'Rev' on my little telly. Despite my atheism (or am I a heathen?) I loved this sit com staring Tom Hollander. He was adorable in the show, bless him (she said slightly ironically). I also watched 'Shrek Ever After', 'How to Train Your Dragon' and 'Nanny McPhee and the Big Bang'.....shit, I just realised I regressed during that 11 hour flight. My vegetarian dinner was shit - they got confused and thought I was vegan. It was a vegetable masala and I HATE spicy food. I had my headphones on so didn't realise how loudly I said

'Well, they can shove that shit up their arses!'

I also sort of accidentally called the fat bloke across from Mom a 'greedy fat bastard' as he'd stuffed 2 desserts down his neck in record time. I think I embarrassed her but to be fair, she did have dinner all down the front of her. We did actually swap dinners and I had my Mom's penne pasta meal. After dinner my mother realised she had forgotten to put her anti-thrombo socks on and so asked for some assistance from me. There wasn't a fat lot of room and unfortunately I almost popped her hip out of it's socket whilst pulling at her leg in order to put the sock on for her. I wonder what we looked like in between the evil laughter, the horrified looks in my direction and the painful acrobatics. Oh yeah, there was a woman sitting just in front who kept turning around to look at us. We got into the pattern where we kept looking at her to see if she was looking at us but then she'd look around catch us staring at her! Mom won't go to the loo now because SHE'S there. I could do with a wee too.

Just to round off I'm going to confess something. One of the things that worried us most about the journey was that we were smuggling bits of 2 dead relatives into the country in my mother's luggage (in ash form). Having an American passport I got through immigration first and so went to collect the baggage. Found mine no problem but my mother's? No where to be seen. I was getting more than a little concerned that we'd caused an international incident and that I would be escorted to a side room where rubber clad, unforgiving fingers would want to explore my special places.

Then I found it.

Left Los Angeles and decanted to hotel in San Diego.