Wednesday

Thus with some Cif... he dies.

I had an issue with a blue bottle that seemed to be stalking me in my own home... it buzzed form room to room, taunting me with its very existence. Until I was preparing myself for bed one evening.

Bottle neck (naming it in an affectionate light wasn't a priority for me), had made his way into the bathroom while I was brushing my teeth, I could hear him behind me as I brushed my teeth and I could see him flying around with abandonment in my mirror. I decided I had had enough- I had also watched The Birds recently and find that I have trust issues with all things that swarm around the head area...

I picked up the Cif and preceded to attack.

This didn't go according to plan. In fact unmitigated disaster would be a far kinder description for the situation that I was dealing with. the bathroom, all lino, tiled and white became a hazard as I forgot about the simple fact that gravity exists and if I am to spray a cleaning agent into the atmosphere it must land somewhere.

And land it did.

On the floor, the toilet, sink, the washing, me....

I began to sweat (if my mother were here, she would tell me that people perspire and horses sweat- but I recollect thinking "giddy up" at one point, so I knew I was safe with my description)... the floor glistened, I slipped and Bottle neck old boy seemed to derive power from the putrid chemicals in the air.

But then he made a tactical error. He landed.

and BAM.

Shoe to the body.

I flushed him.

After checking for a pulse.

I wanted it to be as humane as possible.

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