There’s been a faint but unmistakably nasty smell hovering around here for the last few days. Normally I’d attribute this to the bin needing emptying, but this particular miasma seemed to be strongest in the second bedroom (which is a good distance away from said bin). It only occured to me today to have a look out on the balcony.
The smell was indeed coming from the balcony. Specifically from a very deceased pigeon which had decided to ring down the curtain and join the choir invisible just outside the second bedroom window. By the looks of things several days ago.
Luckily by some fluke of fate I happened to have all the equipment necessary to deal with this situation right at hand. Namely a pair of heavy duty, lined rubber gloves, a painter’s facemask, plenty of plastic bags and a spray can of Glen 20 hospital grade disinfectant. So I suited up (so to speak) and dealt with my ex-pigeon visitor in a highly efficient manner. He now rests in peace, bereft of life in several plastic bags at the bottom of the bin in the rubbish room, and the balcony (and most of the rest of the flat to be honest) smells nicely of disinfectant.
Germ phobic – Me? 🙂
In other second bedroom news, the Bed of Doom is no more! Or at least it’s no more at this address. Dom came around on Saturday and we disassembled it for transport to South Fremantle where he and Rebecca have found an apparently fantastic place to rent (which doesn’t mind the cats). The whole disassembly process went fairly smoothly, and we managed to get it down to the trailer without the caretakers wailaying us for the heinous crime of moving furniture on a weekend. We also managed to get it past the bogans downstairs without incidnent, although they did apparently comment on the quality of the wood. Dom’s theory is that they were interested in burning it.
And speaking of the bogans, they had a major falling out the other night. Not their usual late night screaming match, but a late night sobbing/swearing fest in the carpark. Sobbing by her, swearing by him. It was hard to figure out exactly what was going on, but apparently he was pretty upset with something she’d done. Sufficiently upset in fact to weave the f-word (and variations thereof) multiple times into every single sentance. “Don’t you f****** tell f****** me you’re f****** sorry for f****** f***’s sake because it’s f****** your f****** own f****** fault, f***!!!” for instance, all backed up by her sobbed apologies and professions of love. I did feel kind of sorry for her – whatever she’s done – but I must admit the thought that might be a relationship breaker for them was a somewhat pleasant one. If they have split up then there’ll be no more screaming competitions at 3:00 in the morning. Ah bliss!
Finally, Helen has suggested that the third of the frightening real estate men bears an uncanny resemblance to a certain Armin Shimerman. The truly frightening thing is that he does!! 🙂
Intransigent DNA Influenced Cute Woman of the Week: That Kelly girl who got kicked off Australian Idol. I have never watched an epsiode of that show in my life and I never intend to, but wow, she’s cute. Actually she kind of resembles Alison Mack now I think about it. *sigh* I’m so predictable 🙂