I walk up and down my building's stairs for exercise. Sometimes 72 flights. One evening, between the first- and third-floor stairs, I dodged little doggy grenades. I'm damn glad to be nimble for a half-hip dude.
This past Saturday I noticed vomit at my floor's elevators. The culprit attempted to cover it up by spraying Lysol. It remained for half the day before someone from maintenance cleaned it up.
And then there was this chemical warfare right in front of my door. I consider the possibility that this exited a Homo sapien.
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