Sunday, November 7, 2010

Week One - featuring Skid Mark Sue

Jaysus lads I have so much to tell ye I don't know where to start, so I thought I would start from the very beginning as I have heard from more than one source that it is a very good place to start.

Well, another year is unfolding in Pavia; the fog has already rolled in for the winter, the birdies have flown south to warmer climes, oul wans are getting out their fur coats again. After work the icy wind reddens my cheeks and the dense fog envelops me as I trudge home, but I don't mind, because I know that after I turn my key in that familiar lock, I will be warmly welcomed by my flatmate's skid marks smiling up at me from the toilet bowl.

Ah yes, Skid Mark Sue. The messiest shitter in the west.

When I moved into this apartment it was just myself and The Flatmate and The Dog, who are both scrumptious. Just to be clear, The Dog is actually a dog. Here she is:

We were getting along swimmingly in our lovely little house, just as happy as can be, until Skid Mark Sue came along and shat all over everything. In a manner of speaking.

I just don't know where to begin. I simply do not know. Perhaps if I show you a picture of something you can begin to understand. For example, here is a picture of an item that belongs to her:

Were Skid Mark an eighty four year old crone bent ninety with arthritis, this would be an acceptable item to own. Skid Mark, however, is not eighty four. She is, in fact, nineteen. And at the rate she is going in awakening the inner murdresses in myself and The Flatmate, she may never live to see twenty.

I won't go into too much detail here, lest I explode in rabid fury, but I will tell you this much: in her nineteen years of existence I can tell you that a toilet brush has never crossed her path. Domestos? She probably thinks it's an island in the Caribbean. Toilet Duck? The national sport of Turkmenistan.

We had a very polite word in her ear though; something along the lines of "Would you mind not leaving your big streals of shite all down the toilet bowl, please and thanks?" And she said "Grand". Grand like. She didn't even have the common decency to throw herself off the balcony in mortification. Anyway that seemed to solve the problem. Until...

The other morning, I went innocently into the bathroom to do my morning tinkle. A gut feeling told me to look into the watery depths - and lo! There it lay. Skid Mark Sue had struck again - but this time it was personal.

Yes people, not only had she marked her territory in the manner that is customary for her, but there, lurking quietly under the surface of the water, was a giant poo. A large turd. A Cleveland Steamer. A log. Whatever you want to call it - there it was. Waiting. In silence. For some poor unsuspecting person to go along and have a wee, only to launch itself from the water and purse its squelchy lips together to kiss the previously unmarred arse of the tinkler.

Horrified, I turned the handle of the flusher. Our flusher is such that, when you turn it the toilet starts to flush, and it doesn't stop flushing until you turn it back to the start position. I left it run for a good thirty seconds and then turned it off. The bowl was clear. Or so I thought...

Within seconds, with all the glory of Christ rising from the tomb, it resurrected. My natural reaction was to turn the flusher again, this time for a good minute.

That should do it, I thought.

I thought wrong.

And then I thought wrong another two times.

Clearly I was dealing with the Chuck Norris of excrement.

I threw down three litres of Domestos and flushed it for a good five minutes.


Drain unblocker.

Diddly squat.

In the end I had to enlist the help of Flatmate.

We boiled up a saucepan or two of the kitchen tap's finest water and threw it down there with gusto.

It worked.

But by then we had both been reduced to peeing in the bidet, which only reinforced my love for it even more. Oh bidet, always there in my hour of need.

Ok lads, that's all I care to divulge for the moment, mainly because Skid Mark just came in. I will fill you in on the other details of my dramatically changed life in subsequent posts. Sorry I went AWOL for so long, I'm starting afresh from Week One of year three of my Italian adventure, and this time I'm back for realsies.

That's right, I just said "realsies".


Radge said...

Thank Jaysus for that. For your continued good health and blogging, not the work of Skid Mark Sue. Personal hygiene is lost on some.

Andrew said...

He's right, is Radge. I'd say you were no more than a couple of days away from a concerned email from me. Swear to God, an email.

As for Skid Mark Sue, maybe rub her face in it like you do to housetrain puppies?

Kitty Cat said...

Arghh dirty bitch! Pure mank. However, it *is* lovely to have you back Jennie, so it is.

A Certain Vintage said...

oh christ,i was halfway been hysterical fits of laughter and retching..god love you, but fantastically funny writing!

Jennikybooky said...

Radge - Ah thanks.. and I know boy. She is some manky bibe.

Andrew - Jaysus that's some serious concern there! I feel so loved - yay!

Kitty Cat - thanks girl, it's lovely to be back.

A Certain Vintage - Thanks!

Thanks lads I feel all loved and warm and fuzzy inside x x

Rosie said...

"here is a picture of an item that belongs to her"

i'm just glad the photo was of her bag.

email me! i've been meaning to email you for yonks now with some wedding photos but i don't have your email address.

KFS said...

Great to have you back. Sounds like sms will be providing plenty of blog ammo, kids wha?

Niamh said...

So glad you are back blogging - yay!

So unfortunate it had to be about poo :( Lol.

Can't wait to hear more.

The Drivel Machine said...

I'm so glad you're back Jen! That really is an unfortunate circumstance you're in. As Copernicus said, "Show me your heart, not the contents of your bowel..."
He didn't really say that.

Anonymous said...

Rosie (aka Spanish Exposition)told me I had to check out your blog immediately without passing Go and how right she was. 'She didn't even have the common decency to throw herself off the balcony in mortification.' had be cackling in delicious decibels. Look forward to reading much more!

Anonymous said...

I'm so glad your back!!! I was randomly mentioning you in a post I'm doing for tomorrow, something told me to check your blog (I thought you'd stopped!) and BAM a post!!! Altho, there's just so much I need to know, so you'll have to provide a post a day until we're all caught up to present day!

And you should've dragged that bitch by the hair and shoved her face into the toilet...THEN she might have cleaned up her act (lol, get it? 'cleaned'???) :D

Anonymous said...

Ewwwwww! I feel she is worse than Satan.
Glad to see you're back blogging :)