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I don't miss this, and in fact, it's one of the things that drove me to home ownership.<br /><br />Anyway, I lived on the same floor as a Tom Cruise in Fourth Of July look-a-like, wheelchair and all. One day, as I'm getting my shit ready for the washer, wheelchair dude (super nice dude, btw) is just taking his stuff out to put in the dryer.<br /><br />I wait for him to finish, but I don't offer help for fear of offending him--dude has to pull himself up to get into the washer drum to pull his stuff out. So now he's done and wheels away, and I peak into the washer to make sure he got everything out--you know how them socks get all stuck sometimes, right?<br /><br />I look in and see a small brownish object inside and pick it up not knowing what it was. It looked a bit like a section of a peanut, so I sniff it. And it was a piece of peanut...that smelled like foul poo. I wanted to soak my index and thumb in bleach but settled for scrubbing them with a good antibacterial soap. <br /><br />:doo-doo:<br /><br />i never used that washer again.
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