Another air freshener spotted atop the tampon machine. Tricky things. Figures those two are in league together.

Via dduane: Fuzzy Logic error messages.

Because of going gaga over trapezzoid's music, I wound up on Tindeck. Weird stuff there. The song "Pi" (the tasty remix that's going around with video, evidently) is very good listening, but listens better with the first 43 seconds lopped off. iLove my iTunes. (Related: the iHop, a portable pancake server. Uses Blackberry technology.Users tend to wind up with bluetooth. Blame dustraven.)

Hand is feeling much better, ditto with arm. All that's left now is the rather extensive bruising that's going to develop thanks to the merry whack I fetched the hand. That can be worked around.

Wound up hanging out with dustraven and trystan_laryssa this evening. Dropped on by, had fun. dustraven evidently absolutely loves Lemon Demon. Hee, hee. iHop IHOP was followed by short Lemon Demon marathon (jumbo shrimp?) and then Star Wars animations. (Where is a Darkside when a girl needs him most? Fixing a computer, that's where. Or sleeping. Silly man. ;)

Had very late and surreal conversation about the nasal stage with trystan_laryssa in the process of leaving. We were both late-night-giddy, and this led weird places. I wound up telling her the Saga of the Work Air Freshener Bricks, complete with the latest developments.

The air freshener that I sniffed was not put securely back up on the corner of the near corner stall, and fell to the floor. The following morning, I espied no air freshener on the floor in that place, but a heretofore unseen air freshener brick sitting in or near the delivery slot of the tampon/pad machine. (This is clearly the same brick, just moved some.) I fear it's giving the tampons and pads a not-so-fresh scent.

It's like a game of find-the-air-freshener. I wonder if someone should start taping them places with the thick clear tape. Just to see what would happen.

My curiousity got the better of me when I was alone in the restroom. I took a paper towel and picked up the oldest brick of air freshener I knew of, the one balanced on the top of the stall cubicle walls.

It was very dusty indeed, since it had been sitting up there for some time. I cautiously sniffed at it. Though it was old, it had a powerful smell of something fruity and vile, reminiscent of the results when a five-year-old spills two clashing bottles of scented lotion together.

A diabolical inspiration came to me. If ever I had any vile perfume to dispose of, I could smuggle it into the workplace, wait until alone, and pour it onto the spongelike air fresheners. No one could tell the difference.

The little squares of air freshener have been multiplying. No one gets rid of the dead ones. There is no way to tell.