Nobody can be as agreeable as an uninvited guest


when i first moved here i was so excited to have an elevator that i never took the stairs until one day someones grandmother told me how she only ever uses the lift in her sheltered housing complex on laundry day when she has to carry all her washing and i was shamed into walking.
i live in a nice building. a clean building. so it was a surprise to discover that nobody ever cleans the stairs. the reason i know this is that there has been this used plaster there for two months now. i’m counting. first it was belly up but now, mercifully, it has turned over. i have called it Bob. every time i pass i say “hello Bob, still here?”

i’ll almost miss him if he disapears one day. almost.


41 thoughts on “Nobody can be as agreeable as an uninvited guest

  1. actually i am really sorry about that last post, inexcusable really.

    but saying that, maybe a bad joke is not as bad as a blog about a plaster.

    what does everyone else think?

  2. I love Bob, he is a tenacious, sticky little bastard.

    I say start a Blog called A picture of Bob a Day.

    And I reckon your stairs are cleaned, it’s just the cleaners have formed an attachment to Bob and are loathe to remove him. They call him “Dear wee Bob”.

    Please forgive my silliness.

  3. lol Dear wee Bob lol
    i so hope you are right.
    you know, i did consider taking a picture of him everyday until he disapears/i move but i couldn’t help thinking that might be slightly ‘pathalogical’ so i’m going to settle for a cheery wave and an “allright Bob?” as i pass.

    but i’ll let you know of any exciting developments in the Bob-o-sphere…


    and here’s you making friends with it, hanging out, posing for photos together, introducing him to all your friends, helping him on his quest for fame.


    if i ever return home to find you tounging the little prick, we are through…..YOU HEAR ME? THROUGH!

  5. i tell you what feeling violated is…

    looking you in the eye when i can see his little gummy blue manky stains all over you, when i come in after a hard day.

    but i’ve nowhere else to go, and i need you.

    i just hope there is room for both of us in your life.

  6. please though all i ask, is that you dont let the neighbours see you,
    my pride has been damaged enough, and no size comparison will fill the hole in my heart.

    and please… ‘careful’

    not just for the sake of your health, and mine for that matter, but one day he will just get up and leave (probobly with one of your friends in australia – or he might even just latch onto another stranger)

    and muggins here will be left to bring up a whole hoard of little skanky corn plasters, whilst you’ll no doubt be out gallavanting trying to pick up some old sodden bandage.

  7. That was so kind of you, linking to a wiki definition of a “plaster” just for uncivilized Yanks like me.

    I say Bob is a lovely band-aid. I’d like to see some Bob fan fiction.

  8. “……….and bob slowly peeled him self away from her dominant heel, allowing her to ooze her gratitude all over the hall carpet.
    “its ok, the cleaners will take care of it” she whispered through his fleshtoned coating…”

    isn’t that the tone of fan fiction or should we make him gay too?

  9. what?
    stay calm dear this is what happens when you post about the utterly banal and expect to get away with it.

    you wanna talk about bob?


    lets talk about how the cigarette ends on the bottom step know about my “problem” with “you know what” and are now giggling and whispering “********* dick” everytime i walk past them.

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