When last we left off, our fearless hero was about to commence with a battle. A battle between bad and good, of millions against one. Would our hero make it out alive?


Yesterday I sprayed "oust" into our rubbish bench, just outside of our door. Before I sprayed I could only describe the smell as heinous. A rancid mixture of decaying vegetables, meats, cat poo, and other things and added to the mix was the heat of the July sun and humidity beating upon it day in and day out. Not a good combination.

So, feeling badly for the people who pick up our mess every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, I sprayed away. It was a citrus fragrance that proclaimed that it got rid of odor causing bacteria via death. Like some lab experiment, the smoke rose and billowed in waves, rising from the depths of the trash bag, off the sides of the bench and into the hallway. I imagined millions of odor bacteria swept up in a vapor tide of death, emitting high pitched "noooooo"s before succumbing to the light at the end of the tunnel (so to speak).

Then, after exhausting my trigger finger, and feeling somewhat victorious I started to march back into our place/pad/flat/abode... and then I got a delicate whiff.

It smelled like lemony poo.

Me.