I recently sent this story to my charming friend Amanda. but it's good enough to blog, so...
I should tell you first, my college years were an adventure, from start to finish. I never graduated, but I fell in love and was such a romantic, that studying was totally left behind. Her name was Catheryn, she was short curvy, with a smile to die for and she laughed at anything. My kind o' gal!
I studied in Cardiff, South Wales. She was from North wales, so when she invited me and her best mate up north for the weekend to meet the family, I was very excited... ahh young love.
Well, we met mum and dad who were going away til Monday, and it was our charge to look after their 4 yappie dogs. They were to be put in the kitchen when we went out, so they didnt trash the place. That night, we went out to a local pub, where Catheryn got off with her old boyfriend, a guy who clearly was cooler and more heavily endowed than me. AND he had his own caravan, so good prospects all round. lol.
I spent half the night being miserable with her best friend, who I later found out fancied me rotten, in a park on the swings, not that I was ever interested in her except to get back at my now ex. When the two of us finally got back to the house sad and desperate, yes Catheryn had decided to spend the night a-rockin' and a-rollin' with the guy, clearly the unemployment benefits were enough for him to buy her as much canabis as she needed, anyway when Michelle (her mate) and I finally got back, we realised the dogs had not been shut away.
I noticed it first, as when I opened the living room door, the stench of dog poo hit me... I had squidged one under the door, but the entire room had been covered in little deposits.
Michelle carefully tiptoed to the kitchen and let the shamed pooches out the back garden, while I began filling a bucket and finding suitable kitchen towels to clear it up.
Once resolved, remember we were both tipsy anyway, we divvied up the poos, and began cleaning the carpet. As I had squidged the one under the door, that became my area, while michelle cleared the relatively easier ones by the tv.
After a few minutes I had got the hang of rolling the poos into the tissue in one piece, but the smell was unreal. Even though the windows were wide open, I was astonished. I never had dogs, so this was all new to me.
Once the squidged one was cleared, I looked behind the sofa and found another one. This was easily reachable, and so I swept it up in a fluid move, but there was yet another poo hiding in the shadows a little further behind. With a good bit of stretching I grabbed this one and cleaned the remaining mess, but I was starting to gag. Thats when I saw the big poo.
To this day I have no idea how so much poo comes out of just four tiny yappy dogs but there it was. One huge poo out of my reach. I had no choice. The sofa had to be moved...
Carefully Michelle checked that we wouldn't squidge any other rogue poos, before, whilst still on my hands and knees I pushed the couch from the wall.
That's when the true extent of the smell that had been building up behind the couch, like an octopus, hiding in the rocks, waiting for the right fish to strike at, hit me.
Bang
I was knocked out unconscious for a whole 3 minutes according to Michelle, who, in typical female fashion, instead of being concerned with my welfare and comatic state, was laughing herself to tears.
I'm not saying that all women are cruel and viscious vixens when it comes to mens misfortune, not at all. It is my experience that women can and often are very tender and sympathetic to the distress of men,
just not me!
Enough Said.
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