Forum adverts like this one are shown to any user who is not logged in. Join us by filling out a tiny 3 field form and you will get your own, free, dakka user account which gives a good range of benefits to you: No adverts like this in the forums anymore. Times and dates in your local timezone. Full tracking of what you have read so you can skip to your first unread post, easily see what has changed since you last logged in, and easily see what is new at a glance. Email notifications for threads you want to watch closely. Being a part of the oldest wargaming community on the net. If you are already a member then feel free to login now.

Come fellow gamers/hobby enthusiasts and listen to a tale I have to tell. Twas but a couple of hours ago that I decided to take out my rubbish to the bins. Now, in this tale it is important to note that I live in a complex of around 60 flats, and the bins are the large industrial ones. So, to continue my story. I walked into the bin store, hesitating for the merest moment to take in a deep breathe before entering that foul smelling place, and choose the bin that shall have the honour of receiving my rubbish. With a great, masculine heave, my bag flew up and was swallowed by the greedy monsters. Twas with horror that I noticed at the same time, that the keys to my castle had followed the bag on its journey. A loud cry of no, and other strong words, leapt from my mouth. It was with a heavy heart that I had to embark onto a journey that was not for the faint hearted. Pulling on my gauntlets, I did do battle with the first mighty beast (bin). I withdrew bag after bag, each time hoping that there would be the sight of my keys, alas they evaded my search. Having near emptied this first beast of it's gluttonous fillings, I did tip it over, in the hopes that the fallen remains would show my keys. With sorrow and frustration did I realise that my search had thus far been in vain.

So, girding my soul, and nose, with steel, I did battle the second of the monsters. This one was far fouler than the first, with smells that would make Nurgle himself proud. I battled on through, encountering disgusting juices, wriggling maggots and swarms of flies. Once more I upended the beast, but to no avail. I am not afraid to admit that I had almost given up hope, though something stirred within and with gritted teeth I tackled a third monster. It was a great battle, I emptied half of it's innards when a metallic flash caught my eye. There they were, my keys! I grabbed them and made my escape from that hellish place. When safely back within the castle was, did I strip off my soiled armour for cleaning and go cleanse my body of taint, though whether my soul remains as such, time will tell...

TLDR; lost my my keys in the big industrial bins, took over an hour of searching 3 bins before I found them. Clothes went straight in the washing machine and myself straight in the shower. Can still smell those bins.

After three of the hottest weeks of the year!

Suffice to say as a nurse that I have smelt plenty of bad things in my time, but that left me feeling sick. That is something work has very rarely made me do.

Eeeeeeeeeewwwwwwwwwww!
Didn't you have spare keys? Always have a spare keys.

The other set of keys were with my partner, who was at work, and wouldn't have been home for 3 or more hours. Just glad I didn't have to wait around that long.

 Azza007 wrote:
The other set of keys were with my partner, who was at work, and wouldn't have been home for 3 or more hours. Just glad I didn't have to wait around that long.

Well, I think I would have preferred waiting. But kudos to you. You must have a seriously strong stomach.

As I read your moving, epic tale of woe, my heart stirred. I felt the hot sting of tears behind my eyes as I imagined your plight....

Then I noticed you emblazoned with that foul crest, and remembered what they did to my Canucks in 2011, and all pity melted away.

Some helpful person once dumped a load of I guess spare shingle down our front drain. We didn't realise for a little while but the toilet got backed up, wouldn't flush etc. When we opened the drain and saw the situation, realised the whole lot would have to be dug out... well. The first 10 minutes wasn't too bad as it was the dry stuff on the top. But then I was essentially elbow deep in a swirling concoction of gravel, faeces and urine.

Not my best ever Sunday afternoon, that.

 feeder wrote:
As I read your moving, epic tale of woe, my heart stirred. I felt the hot sting of tears behind my eyes as I imagined your plight....

Then I noticed you emblazoned with that foul crest, and remembered what they did to my Canucks in 2011, and all pity melted away.

I remember that well. Another fight where good triumphed over evil

 Iron_Captain wrote:

 Azza007 wrote:
The other set of keys were with my partner, who was at work, and wouldn't have been home for 3 or more hours. Just glad I didn't have to wait around that long.

Well, I think I would have preferred waiting. But kudos to you. You must have a seriously strong stomach.

Yep. In the nearest pub with a nice cold one to keep me company

Last year, the council decided not to bother emptying my kitchen/garden waste bin, not once but twice,meaning it hadn't been emptied in four weeks. Since it was mostly grass cuttings, I decided to empty it myself into bags and take it up to the dump. All was well, until the forgotten bag, halfway down, containing the skin and bones from a kipper, which had spent the last three weeks rotting down nicely in the middle of a warm, steaming compost heap. That did, as they say, "gie me the boak" mightily. That particular shovelful was carefully double-bagged, lest it leave a reminder in the boot of my car.

 Riquende wrote:
Some helpful person once dumped a load of I guess spare shingle down our front drain. We didn't realise for a little while but the toilet got backed up, wouldn't flush etc. When we opened the drain and saw the situation, realised the whole lot would have to be dug out... well. The first 10 minutes wasn't too bad as it was the dry stuff on the top. But then I was essentially elbow deep in a swirling concoction of gravel, faeces and urine.

Not my best ever Sunday afternoon, that.

Oh, I know that pain. Couple of years back, my bog backed up, so I did all the usual right up to calling in a plumber, who informed me the issue wasn't my toilet at all but somewhere in the main drainage for the tenement. The tenement with several floors. The tenement where I live on the first floor.

Cue a full week where any time anyone on the upper floors flushed their toilets, mine overflowed with raw sewage. Flat was basically uninhabitable, had to go and sleep on my grandad's floor until the water board finally sent someone to fix the problem - turned out the pipes under the pavement leading from our outflow into the sewers had never been replaced since the block was built in the Victorian era, so they were still made of sodding clay and the whole thing had just caved in under the paving slabs. Completely wrecked my bathroom.