That Deplorable Trace Of 'Something' In The Air

[Guest Ditch_Shitter]

For some days now I've been occassionally, fleetingly aware of an almost 'Presence' around my cottage. A vague hint of deplorable odour, to be more precise.

 

Ye know the routine. Ye seem to once pass through a shimmering miazma of, " Phwar! What the F*ck was That?! ". Only it's almost subconcious. Ye moving somewhere. Thinking of and intent of doing some mundane task when ..... Phhhwww! And then it's gone. Both tainted trace and all memory of it. Ye get on with ye life.

 

Well, I've had this going on for probably a week or more now. It's all sort of come back to me. Like one of those childhood traumas which some American 'Analysts' are said to dredge up from peoples buried pasts. It was quite as disturbing too. <Ditch Shitter lays himself down on the couch>

 

Looking back, Doctor; At first I thought maybe it was the Dogs. I'd like to say they're All impecably well mannered around the place. Only Small Dog, even now, still has her moments. I'd normally leave the door open all day and night for them, only with these storms we've been having ...

 

But then, I've found her 'little misdemeanors' and frankly; There's really little if any smell attatched to them (You must understand, dear Doctor; My Dogs are all healthily flesh and bone fed. Thus they excrete only true waste. That which is entirely indigestable or else is a by product of that digestive process. Little enough there too smell). But still my nagging unease.

 

I considered my own age. When a man goes truly insane, would that man, in his madness, be able to cognicently recognise the insanity of his own 'new' thoughts and impulses? A rhetorical question, you understand. Only, I was considering my own smell. Are not older people often said to eminate a smell most often compared - in popular fiction at least - to ..... well ... 'Rotten Cabbage'?

 

However, whilst I must state I'd be the very first to agree that, largely due to my life style and lax approach to 'personal hygiene' I can, most certainly towards the end of my term, become a little 'roasty'. Perhaps not the best time to be thumbing a lift into town. And yet it's been this very act of being in town which has given the lie to that theory too. Put simply; I don't smell myself of cabbages when sat alone in the pub.

 

By yesterday, as we I relate this to you, Doctor, I'd become quite pointedly aware of this strange malignance manifest in the air at my cottage. I'd also, by concentration and deliberate effort, proven able to vaguely 'pin point' it to a certain corner of my kitchen. A huge, high ceilinged and airy place, none the less often enough to be found billowing with both smoke from the lighting range as well as steam from my recently recommissioned food steamer.

 

So it was that my concious attention was finally to rest upon the breeze block sized green apparrition I'd long since become accusomed to glimpsing on my single food shelf. The loaf and half of bread, of course. Without wishing to return to considerations of acts of purest insanity, I must confess that this loaf and half have stood there for some months now. Thus they had aquired quite an interesting form of dark, almost marine green, fur coat.

 

I can only offer, in defence and as proof of my, in fact, quite lucid and balanced state of mind that I determined there and then to throw this eye sore into the compost bin. An act I managed to accomplish the following day. Yes, Doctor. I am easily distracted.

 

However, that was yesterday. Tonight no trace of the awful things remained ~ and yet the perculiar, horrible smell still lingered. Cabbage like, without identifiably being cabbage. Indeed, I now realise that I've had no cabbage here for fully a week or more! I am able to mark this by the fact that I bought myself some brussel sprouts, two weeks hence. Ate those the same night. Then ate much of a cabbage, in large servings, for a few days there after. The remains went to the goats and they are housed some distance from my cottage anyway.

 

And so the mystery - and the increasingly notable and really quite vile odour - remained. Untill tonight, dear Doctor.

 

Yes, tonight. A night that shall surely remain etched on my conciousness, quite possibly for ever! Because tonight, Doctor, I brought home a Cabbage. And, intent on eating some for my dinner, I reached for my customary steamer basket. One of three, quite identical plastic containers into which I would place my chopped up cabbage. I found it to be 'In the Wash'. The rest of my meal was rapidly cooking and I felt I had no time to dither. I sought out the second of the three baskets, beneath some other oddments. Sadly, that too was awaiting the detergent.

 

And that it when my memory took me to the large, dark cupboard above my food shelf. The utillity space where I may store anything which comes to hand. I remembered I had originally put the entire Steamer and it's pieces in there. Thus I was perfectly expectant of finding the Third basket there. Which I did.

 

It was there. There where I'd placed it, a full two weeks ago. That fateful night I'd enjoyed my first meal of sprouts in almost a year. Sprouts, Doctor. A favourite of mine. The peelings of which form a tasty snack for my Dogs ~ once they too have been steamed and set to cool.

 

I can tell by that look in your eyes, you Know. Don't you? Yes! Stuck away up there in my kitchen cupboard, that innocent and inoquous basket had quietly lain. Metamorphosing for Two Hole Weeks in the darkness. Gradually imposing the reek of vegetative decomposition on my very conciousness. Waiting.

 

Waiting untill this night. When I blythely reached up for that harmless looking basket and found myself looking down upon my tormentors!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Sprouts From Hell!

 

 

 

 

So; D'You ever do shit like that?

[Yokel Matt 918]

 

Spilt a pint of cream in the Mrs's car once and had to have the window open for about 6 months when driving it... even when it was raining. :sick:

[pointer28 1]

DS,

 

You really should write a book, something along the lines of Pirsig's "Zen and the art of motorcycyle maintenance"

 

How about "Brussel sprouts and the art of mink trapping" by Ditch Shitter. Guaranteed bestseller, this time next year you'll be a millionaire. I'd buy it, any chance of a signed copy?

 

At least we know it would be entertaining anyway!

[Guest Frank]

 

Ditch, your a gas man.

 

Frank.

[Guest ROOSTER]

you not insane but you are a little bit odd.

[Guest MOLLY]

Sis gave me a bag of sprouts from the allotment. Whilst driving about they must have moved under the passenger seat and i forgot about them. Then one day i smelled the most terrible smell and ripped the car apart till i found them. I can completely relate to you DS...i have NEVER in my life smelled anything so bad as rotten sprouts, they have their own smell words cannot describe. Nor can they relate just how bad they smell, no-one could believe how a green veg could be that bad :sick:

MOLL.

[Kay 3,709]

I thought you were going to say it was your feet have you ever thought of writing kids books as they love that sort of stuff

 

I never tire of reading your posts, your a breath of fresh air in what is fast becoming a nanny state, wonderfull peice

[bullsmilk 2]

best one i did was borrow my mates car to go fishing got alll my bait together(in cludeing a box of frozen sqiud) got in and of i went.this was a cold morning so the first thing was whac the heaters up full ..got to dover witch is about 50 miles from me and great the squid was defrosted ....i didnt think about any liquid witch may have leeked out until a week later when my mate turned up no to happy with his car smeeling like a fishmongers underwear :sick: worst thing was he had to do a 40 mile round trip to work every day and with it being winter opening the windows wasnt a option

[chillitt 0]

ditch, if you rescued that loaf and a half, and then fried it with them sprouts in the margerine off the window sill, you would have a feast fit for a king... i am sure it would 'cure' mosthangovers too...

[J Darcy 5,871]

once noticed a smelll in my motor... located it after a while ...it was a "green" rabbits liver that was full of tiny maggots....lol...

[Born Hunter 17,656]

DS, you ever thought of writing a autobiography. I can imagine it would be very interesting reading about your escapades and day to day ventures, such as the mink trapping

 

you have a nack of keeping the reader waiting in anticipation

[Guest Frank]

Agree, you have the gift for it Ditch.

 

Forget about Hornets ect, a book would send you to fame i think. :thumbs-up:

 

Frank.

[Coneytrappr 29]

Excellent.

The fridge in this household is quite cluttered. Layers of food, if you like, and it tends to get eaten through rather fast so it isn't generally a problem.

However there is one incident which stands out over all others. A decent chunk of rabbit- bloody, raw and wrapped in a plastic bag- miagrated to the very back corner of the fridge where someone else put a much less perishable item over it, concealing it from view very effectively. There might have been a few internal organs thrown in there for good measure as well.

It remained out of sight and out of mind for a good while.

 

My nose eventually found it. Like yours it was just the slightest whiff that got my attention. I set about cleaning out the fridge to find it. Grabbed the bag, pulled it foward.

You know how you can walk up to a dead thing and it won't smell too bad until you turn it over with your boot?

This rabbit had decomposed in the back of the fridge until it was falling apart. The colours were amazing. Primordial sludge. The smell was even better. Might have made one hell of a lure if I'd had a mind to keep it.

But I was more concerned with getting it out of the house and into the bin to be bothered with any potential use I'm afraid.

 

It was eyewatering.

 

I've told you this before I think. Write a book.

Edited January 17, 2007 by Coneytrappr

[Guest The Shaman]

Last summer I bagged a couple of Rabbits and woodies - nice warm night, didn't mind being out so it was gone midnight by the time I got home.

 

I'd been up early and been to work that day so by now I was flagging a bit, so thought i'd put the rabbits/woodies in the shed till the morning, and i'd sort them out and hang them.

 

Well I forgot for 2 days or so - went to check on them and because they were still in the bag had started to smell. So I thinks what a waste, puts them in a carrier bag, then puts them at the bottom of the wheelie bin.

 

Our bins don't get emptied every week, its once a fortnight, green waste and general waste alternate.

 

A week and a half of July weather and my wheelie bin smelt like a fart from Satan's own arsehole :sick:

 

There was maggots everywhere, flies going nuts and my missus going even nuttier

 

No-one but me would go anywhere near that fooking wheelie bin for weeks afterwards.

 

Also many years ago, the wife came back from hospital after having our daughter prematurely, you know women only go for a shit once or twice a week, whereas I go twice a day. Like you do. (Only place I get peace and quiet).

 

Anyway I dont think she went whilst she had been in hospital, for some reason most women don't like doing their business anywhere but home, so were talking she had not had a crap in about a week or longer, so one of the first things she does when she gets home is spend half an our on the toilet.

 

The smell that come out of that toilet was :whistle: embarrasing. I laughed like hell and keep reminding her when she has a go at me and my daily jaunts to the loo, but now she won't admit it was that bad - but it was (in fact on par with the wheelie bin). :oops:

[Guest MOLLY]

for some reason most women don't like doing their business anywhere but home,

Class

MOLL.