I come home to my place. I look around, nothing's changed much. It's all the same. But wait! Something smells funny in here. Not to be daunted by a little stinky, I bounded about, trying to find the source. Little did I know that it wasn't in my closet, it wasn't the sweat that had found it's way into my bed (no, that was a funk of a different kind). I checked the drawers, under the table, where my pet was better housetrained than to cause me that concern. I looked at the shelves, and in all the cabinets, and finally... sadly, in the refrigerator...

The wave of it washed over me as though I'd just doused myself in pure, concentrated, nasty. My eyes watered, burned, and itched like mad. I stepped quickly to the kitchen sink and unleashed my innards in a brilliant display of flashing colors. I would never, ever put an open container in the refrigerator again. Especially when said refrigerator suffered from a frequency of complete break downs.

Another lesson learned! Life goes on!

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