The Source Of The Smell
I would like to preface this post by reminding you, yes you, the reader, that you're not perfect. I'm sure you've got some flaws, some "issues" you need to work on, and, hey, that's okay. There's nothing wrong with that at all. It's partially what makes us human (that, and the whole intelligent brains/opposable thumbs/capacity for speech thing). All I'm saying is, remember that you've got your own unfortunate quirks that cause problems from time to time and that you shouldn't judge other people. Particularly me.
One of my flaws is that I'm not terribly clean. I mean, I shower every day and I make copious use of the deodorant stick, but when it comes to, say, picking up dirty clothes off the floor or keeping my personal spaces tidy and grime-free... well, there are homeless people living in alleys who find me a bit gross.
I bring this up because... um... you remember the other day when I mentioned that there was a bad smell coming from my office? "Maybe it's a dead mouse, har har" I said, trying to be all Mr. Funny Blog. Yeah, well...
It was a dead mouse. Worse, actually. It was part of a dead mouse. Seems our cat had caught it at some point, killed it, and then deposited the half-a-carcass into a t-shirt of mine that had been laying on the floor of my office. Other pieces of clothing had gotten tossed on top of it and, consequently, it went unnoticed for a few days. Basically I think it's the same thing that happened to Jimmy Hoffa, except for he's still out there, rotting away, and the mouse was discovered yesterday afternoon by me during a bout of Spring cleaning.
And if I thought the smell was bad before it was uncovered... fuck, guys. I can't even describe it. It's the stench of decay, of death, of murder. It's a savage, iron-y smell that penetrates to the core of your brain and lingers on everything that it touches. Horrible, horrible. Needless to say, there's going to be a fuckload of laundry-doin' in my future.
Anyway, just thought I'd share. If for no other reason than this charming tale will probably make you feel better about your own lives. No matter what, at least your office/workspace/apartment doesn't smell like dead things.
One of my flaws is that I'm not terribly clean. I mean, I shower every day and I make copious use of the deodorant stick, but when it comes to, say, picking up dirty clothes off the floor or keeping my personal spaces tidy and grime-free... well, there are homeless people living in alleys who find me a bit gross.
I bring this up because... um... you remember the other day when I mentioned that there was a bad smell coming from my office? "Maybe it's a dead mouse, har har" I said, trying to be all Mr. Funny Blog. Yeah, well...
It was a dead mouse. Worse, actually. It was part of a dead mouse. Seems our cat had caught it at some point, killed it, and then deposited the half-a-carcass into a t-shirt of mine that had been laying on the floor of my office. Other pieces of clothing had gotten tossed on top of it and, consequently, it went unnoticed for a few days. Basically I think it's the same thing that happened to Jimmy Hoffa, except for he's still out there, rotting away, and the mouse was discovered yesterday afternoon by me during a bout of Spring cleaning.
And if I thought the smell was bad before it was uncovered... fuck, guys. I can't even describe it. It's the stench of decay, of death, of murder. It's a savage, iron-y smell that penetrates to the core of your brain and lingers on everything that it touches. Horrible, horrible. Needless to say, there's going to be a fuckload of laundry-doin' in my future.
Anyway, just thought I'd share. If for no other reason than this charming tale will probably make you feel better about your own lives. No matter what, at least your office/workspace/apartment doesn't smell like dead things.
posted by Clinton at 10:41 AM
14 Comments:
this is why we tell you to pick up your clothes.
if only you listened.
*sorry, it's mother's day, my kids are far away... i needed to nag. thanks for the opportunity.
No problem. I'm well experienced at giving people the opportunity to nag.
Ewww.
I'm glad you found the source though.
Yeah, it was pretty rank. I can still smell it a little bit in my office, but I think the odor's pretty well beat now.
I love the smell of irony in the morning.
I don't think you're a slob. This happens.
Unless you then put ON the shirt with the dead mouse on it because it was the cleanest thing you had.
Then yeah, you're a slob.
Jonathan... It smells like gross.
Pigeon... No, no. Though I'm not opposed to wearing dirty clothes as a general rule, even I am above putting on t-shirts that have mouse gore on them. Also, the smell would probably get me arrested.
That reminds me of the time, unbeknownst [sp?] to us, a mouse climbed up inside the walls of a co workers cubicle, died, and over the course of two weeks, began to secrete that smell you so lovingly described.
Maintenance finally had to come and disassemble the cube to find the source of the smell, as no one could locate it, visually.
That is nasty...
Big Daddy... Ew.
Beehive... Isn't it just?
oh that is seriously disturbing and gross. i thought finding a cochroach in my laundry basket is bad... (actually, that is pretty bad, isn't it...)
Yeah, not one of my finer moments, I'll grant you. But take heart; it's WAY worse than finding a cockroach. Those don't smell, after all.
I had a similarly horrifying experience almost 10 years ago and I still remember the smell. After living with an awful stench in my kitchen for about a week, I thought I'd clean out the cupboards. I started moving the cans around and stumbled onto a half decomposed mouse body (a victim of mouse poison), right behind a big can of black beans. Its decomposition ooze had glued it firmly to the bottom of the cupboard. My boyfriend had to use a spatula to free it, and after much retching and scrubbing, we finally just put contact paper over the stain. I'm getting chills just thinking about it....
Ick!!!
That's bad, dude. Worse than mine, actually, because it was in the food room (or kitchen, rather).
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