i just had to clean up a pile of ...something in the hallway. It certainly came out of a human; I only got close enough to drop a plastic bag over it and gingerly pick it up with two large pieces of cardboard, and I held my breath and averted my eyes so I can't swear to which end of a human it might have come out of.
i cleaned it up because the horror of dealing with it was marginally less horrible than the thought of facing it again in the morning. also, someone would have likely blamed my dogs for it.
I didn't puke, though it was a near thing. I want to kick whoever did that in the face.
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we have a guy living down the hall who's very old, infirm and a VERY sloppy drunk. I really hope this isn't going to become a habit.
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Of course bloody Squish tried to eat it. That was what nearly tipped me over the edge into puking myself.
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but I resent it ENORMOUSLY.