In the middle one night some months ago, we were woken by a loud crack. Thinking nothing of it, or being too intoxicated/tired to care, we turned on the other side and went back to sleep. In the morning, we found that a miniature earthquake had taken place in the kitchen the previous night. A grid of two by two tiles on the floor had buckled and cracked, as if they had been pushed together by a very strong lateral force.
Eventually, The One removed the broken tiles and that was that.
One day, not long ago, the landlady asked The One, in between hugging our rambunctious dogs, what had happened to the kitchen floor tiles. How she knew, we still don't know, but we suspect that, when we are both out, the landlord and landlady come into the flat, for whatever reason. It was good that she had asked The One about the tiles, because had she asked me, I am afraid I would have lied and told her some wild story that she would not have believed in any case. I'm strange like that.
Yesterday, out of the blue, the landlord knocked and asked The One if a worker could come and prepare the kitchen floor. He had been unable to find exactly the same tiles, so he had decided to create a feature instead. So, the worker prepared the floor. And now. Arriving at the point, finally. Today, The One was asked to help out at my work again. Soon after we arrived at work, his phone rang and I heard him talking to the landlady. After ending the conversation, he reported that she had asked him permission for a worker to enter the flat in order to fix the floor. He had said yes, and we arrived at 18:30 tonight to find this rather ugly feature in the kitchen.
I have to wonder why the old man chose to fix the floor now, especially since we have been waiting to fix the cover of the DB board that he took off about six months ago when fixing our plugs.
There was a scrap of toilet paper outside the side door when we entered. A wad of more toilet paper lurked just inside the door like a curled up snake. I used the toilet and found that someone had rewound the toilet paper in a somewhat untidy fashion as you can see on the picture. Yes, we have two toilet brushes, don't you? I feel violated. God knows all the places they went! We have a "The New Joy of Gay Sex" on the bookshelf, for Pete's sake. I have no desire to be responsible for an old lady having a heart attack in my living room.
Oh yes, I'm getting an assistant at work tomorrow. Yay.
And, O how funny is it when your very vain cat poses for a picture, unaware that something disgusting is dangling from her chin. I would have Photoshopped out the cables in the background as well as the dirt. But then I would need my Photoshop DVD, which was eaten by Alfred. As mentioned before. Can't seem to locate that specific post now, but I know it is out there. Ah, found it. Here. Just before the end of the post. Well, to his credit, he didn't violate anything else today. Except, perhaps, the toilet paper.
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