I've been meaning to blog about this for a few days but keep forgetting to.
There's massive renovation happening all over our office, especially in our old room. That's where the Ladies' is, so I wasn't particularly surprised to find a screw lying inside the commode, at the bottom. As predicted, it rusted nicely orange over the next few days.
When I went to, uh, powder my nose, this Monday, I saw a pin lying there. You know, the long, thin variety. What I daresay a screw can be melted down into.
Which raises the question: How scary are the corroding powers of, uh, human waste?
(Don't even waste your time surmising what if somebody'd fished up the screw and then a pin had fallen in later -- who'd fish it up in the first place and why?)
Perhaps I do think too much. But, it wasn't V who said it first. My mother beat him to it nearly two decades earlier, and she sounded a great deal more exasperated than he ever does. What she actually yelled was, Eto bhabchhilish keno? ("Why were you thinking so much?")
Speaking of mothers, she's in town.
Speaking of screwy matters, I wonder if this will be my first post to be flagged as 'Objectionable Content'? Ye gods and little fishes!