Publix rent carpet cleaner

Hi Aus Reno
I've been renting a nice apartment in nice location in Sydney for past 4 years. (Very happy with location & nice people in building) The carpet is this standard 80-90s light grey or dark beige colour. (gives kinda office vibes)
Over the years carpet is feeling more worn. I had it professionally cleaned like 6 months ago. But still bit of an annoyance in back of my head.
I was wondering how can improve this
I have two ideas so far.
- Buy loose rugs & semi cover up this grey carpet.
- Ask owner & property manager if we can get it replaced. I have really nice owner. Hes getting old to handed over admin to a property manager. But can speak to both of them. Not sure how to sell them the idea as this would be a cost to them. But could be nice (Owners would you be open to idea if long term tenant asked?)
What do you think ? any ideas welcome

Chapter 4: The Dew
We have a new cast member for this chapter! Her name is Molly, and let’s just say she’s the MVP.
It was almost noon when I woke up. Faaaaack! I scrambled to get dressed, slap on a little makeup, put my hair in purple pigtails, ask myself whether I was dolling myself up for FPB or for Axton... Yeah, that was a no-brainer. I engaged in basic some humaning (brushing teeth, applying deodorant, etc.), spritzed on some men’s cologne called Spicebomb (FPB really was kind of right about that), put on my new shoes, and dashed out the door. I looked at my phone to see if I had a missed call or an angry text from FPB. Nope. Good! He must have still been passed out.
I Ubered to FPB’s place to get my car, then I drove back to Sage’s house and parked on the side of the street. There were four Molly Maid vehicles in the driveway. I checked the door. It was unlocked. Was it possible that my absence might have gone unnoticed? As I entered the house, I could hear one of the professional cleaners yelling at Sage. I’ll call her Molly.
Molly: I’m charging you TRIPLE! I had to call in SIX extra girls. We clean up vomit, pee pee, poo poo, and your house smells like a distillery! You are nasty, nasty people!
I was damn near pissing myself laughing. One of the professional cleaners swooped past me, and I felt embarrassed to even be associated with these nasty, nasty people (even though all of them except for FPB had been super nice to me).
I found my way into the kitchen and accidentally interrupted Sage and Athena arguing over who was going to pay the cleaning bill. Sage was in favor of splitting it between the chummers, and Athena was in favor of sticking Mori with the bill since his nasty, nasty rules caused the nasty, nasty mess.
I cleared my throat so it didn’t seem like I was eavesdropping.
Athena: OP! Hey! Where have you been all morning?
Me: I ran home to get some sleep. The snoring was pretty loud...
Athena: I hear ya. We sleep in Sage’s bedroom, but Mori makes all the others sleep in the War Room or on the porch. You might be able to convince him to let you sleep in the guest room tonight?
Me: Isn’t it your house, Sage? I’ll play by your rules.
Sage: Yeah, but Mori’s in charge during Shadowrun weekends.
Damn, this really was starting to feel like a fucking cult. But I still found Mori hella amusing despite all his absurdities.
Me: Hey, guys? How much hell am I about to catch from FPB?
Sage: That would be... none. He’s still passed out in the backyard.
I made my way to the porch. I guess the cleaning crew hadn’t gotten there yet. There were toppled cups, empty liquor bottles, and several piles of puke on the porch; and the distinct scent of boozy pee clashed in an act of olfactory violence with the scent of stale vomit. I didn’t even want to take a single step outside. I was wearing my brand new shoes, after all! But the rest of my outfit was blissfully casual.
FPB’s absurdly formal clothes were draped over the hammock, and he was sprawled across a lawn chair in nothing but his black boxer briefs, snoring like a freight train.
Axton was sitting on a dry patch of the steps that led down to the yard, smoking a cigarette, and drinking what I hoped was coffee. Snorlax was passed out in the inflatable kiddie pool. And Mori was nowhere to be seen. Axton turned around and noticed me. Surely he didn’t remember trying to kiss me the night before. I mean, I kind of hoped that he did... but it would make my life a whole lot easier if he didn’t.
Axton: OP! Where did you run off to after you put us to bed?
Me: I went to sleep.
Axton: Where?
Me: Ummmm...
Axton: I won’t say anything to FPB, don’t worry.
I wanted to believe him. “I went home. I wanted to sleep in my own bed, and I wanted to have my car in case I get tired again. I seriously can’t keep up with you guys.”
Axton: That’s probably not anything to be ashamed of. Wanna come sit? Have a smoke?
I scanned the porch. “I’m not sure where it’s safe to step.”
Axton put his cig in the ashtray and stood up. “Combat boots to the rescue.”
He crossed the porch, picked me up, and carried me to the puke/pee/booze-free step. As he was putting me down his hand very deliberately grazed the length of my spine. Guess he remembered... I couldn’t seem to pull my hand off his shoulder, nor could I seem to take my eyes off his lips. But just then, FPB stirred. And he roared, “UNHAND MY GIRLFRIEND, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!”
He tried to stand, but his tall, hungover ass just withered to the ground.
Me: Good morning! Don’t worry. He was just helping me protect my new shoes.
FPB: So help me, Pretty Boy. If you touch my girlfriend again, I WILL END YOU.
Axton: Just trying to be gentlemanly, buddy. You want some coffee?
FPB grunted.
Axton turned to me. “You want some, too?”
FPB: DO NOT SPEAK TO HER, YOU FUCKING SKIDMARK.
Me: I’m good. I’ll hit Mori up for some coke later on.
Axton laughed and headed to the kitchen.
FPB: YOU WILL NOT GET COKE FROM MORI. I WILL LITERALLY KILL HIS (expletive slur deleted) ASS IF HE GIVES YOU COKE.
Snorlax was stirring in the kiddie pool.
Snorlax: FPB... Chill, bro. Seriously. God damn. You’re gonna pop a vein in your forehead.
Okay, it’s finally time to pause and give you guys some background on my relationship with FPB. It might be mildly triggering for some, so apologies in advance.
He repulsed me at first. I thought he was a snob, I hated his beard, and his circus freak height intimidated me a little. But he managed to humanize himself. He feigned vulnerability. He was attentive and affectionate (at first). And when we finally went on a proper date, it was actually pretty romantic. Plus, he had cool Bioshock tattoos! I wouldn’t find out about his Shadowrun tramp stamp until a bit later.
And I felt like I was gaining some maturity by looking past the unsightly beard, the constantly furrowed brow, and the shocking amount of time he spent standing on the most random soapboxes one could possibly imagine. I’ll also shoehorn in the fact that he had been “dating” a possessive, obsessive legbeard and I found myself feeling like a white knight for helping him out of that annoying situationship.
FPB’s triumphant, and probably fabricated, stories of his past facilitated empathy. He had dropped out of college to join the Peace Corps. He once pulled over to save a child from a burning vehicle. He had been bullied in middle school for being the only boy in the Color Guard. Blah, blah, blah. It was mostly a load of bollocks, and I’ll save the ridiculous details for another story. But his displays of affection in the early stages of our cursed courtship seemed sincere, and I believed him when he said that my “being there for him” was helping him grow as a person. What a rube I was.
The emotional connection gradually ran deeper as a result of FPB’s exceptionally well-rehearsed vulnerability act, but it was hardly a romance novel. After several relatively normal “getting to know each other” months, I discovered that FPB had been notoriously promiscuous in the past. A lothario, through and through. Many women apparently knew all about the “ladies’ man maître D” in midtown Wellsprings who would go home with absolutely ANYONE.
And I soon figured out that he had not left his promiscuous past behind him... at all. But even if I hadn’t become aware of his reputation, I could often smell his sexual escapades once he felt confident enough to interact with me immediately after he’d gone muff diving. His beard stank like a turtle tank, with heavy top notes of body odor and microwaved fish, and undertones of stale urine, dingleberries, and sometimes a gentle waft of rotting tampon.
He’d also had to treat his foul flavor-saver for pubic lice on a few occasions. I know I mentioned his beard crabs earlier, but it bears repeating (if only for the cringe). I can’t even begin to explain how humiliating the state of his beard was for me. I take care of all manner of personal hygiene, and I’ve certainly never had CRABS. To be known as the girlfriend of such a nasty beardo must have caused at least a few people to reasonably assume that I had a crab-infested crotch and a serious case of junk funk. #notmyjunk
Hindsight tells me that I didn’t care about his philandering because I wasn’t in love with him. His company wasn’t particularly enjoyable since he spent most of our time together complaining about “losers” on the internet and lambasting the insufferable management at the restaurant where he worked. But he could carry on lengthy conversations about luxury fragrance, which was... harmless. Plus, I enjoyed the idea of having a “boyfriend” since I was approaching 30.
And FPB could convincing behave like the *perfect gentleman* on the rare occasions when we attended respectable social events together. So all of my friends thought I’d won the dating lottery by landing myself a quirky, intelligent, polite, and visually striking boyfriend. This dreadful dating experience tempts me to spout some unsolicited advice along the lines of, “Wait for the right *connection* with a person who makes your life more enjoyable, and don’t get hung up on your relationship status... YOU are enough.” But perhaps that’s something we all have to realize for ourselves.
Aside from the philandering, things ran pretty smoothly back when FPB was still keeping “the crazy” under wraps. His goblinization unfolded in tiny, almost imperceptible increments. And by the time he had become a full-blown possessive lunatic, every attempt to end things with him resulted in death threats, slander, vandalism, bomb threats, or false police reports. I could easily write an entire lengthy story about every disastrous breakup attempt. But they wouldn’t be amusing stories. At least this current story has moments that I can try to frame as humorous, largely thanks to the Shadowrun crew.
I suppose the most honest answer as to why I had given FPB chance after chance is that I had absolutely NO prior experience being emotionally close to severely mentally unstable people. I’m one of the lucky ones who has never suffered from mental illness aside from occasional situational depression and some mild body images issues when I was a teenage girl on the high school drill team. I grew up in a loving family. And the only other serious romantic relationship I’d had prior to FPB fell apart because we were just in different stages of life (he was quite a bit older), and we eventually found ourselves unable to relate to one another. Nothing horrifying.
FPB was much closer to my age, we had common interests, and he was a (seemingly) genuine gentleman at first. Our relationship was like Beauty and the Beast... in reverse. I’m not so much comparing myself to Belle as I’m comparing FPB to a kind-hearted prince who gradually transformed into a stomping, snarling, tantrum-throwing BEAST.
Any desire that I’d ever felt for him died from poon fume inhalation. And FPB was pitifully butt-hurt when I closed the cookie to him. And despite displaying no interest in showing affection towards me, despite having countless randos at whom he could wiggle his whisky wang, despite griping incessantly about my terrible personality, my wretched taste in music, and my annoying sense of humor, he refused to end the relationship.
But if I so much as spoke to another man, FPB would call the police and report him as a TCAP Story, vandalize his property (usually with poop and/or semen), stalk him relentlessly, or make a slanderous website, crudely photoshopping the poor guy’s face onto obscene images that he got off the deepest, dingiest, most dumpster-fiery recesses of the dark web. This “retaliation technique” would eventually get his ass incarcerated, but not until many, many unfortunate girlfriends later.
Everyone had always told me that, “Relationships are HARD.” Guys, gals, non-binary pals... if you ever feel the need to cough out this fetid tonsil stone of “wisdom,” please operationally define the word “HARD.” If a relationship feels like a prison sentence and you find yourself fearing for your safety or for the safety of your loved ones, that isn’t “hard.” That is coercive control. RUN. But never forget that running is often much, mucheasier said than done. There’s no shame in getting help from friends, family, and law enforcement.
​
So, where were we? Snorlax was telling FPB to chill out, Axton was going to get some coffee for the lanky, bearded ball of rage, and I was standing on the one clean step, hoping the cleaning crew would come outside and save us all.
FPB was flailing about, trying to achieve a sitting position. Snorlax seemed to have gone back to sleep. And Axton returned to the porch with a cup of coffee and a bottle of water. He made his way down to FPB.
FPB: You’d better stay far, FAR away from her for the remainder of the weekend.
Me: Funky, he’s helping your hungover ass. And he hasn’t been inappropriate towards me in any way.
(That was kind of a lie. But I suppose it all depends on what you consider “inappropriate.”)
FPB harumphed.
Me: I promise you that I’ll punch him in the face if he makes me uncomfortable. Otherwise, please let me get to know your friends. You said that was an important part of the weekend.
Axton sat down the hangover remedies next to FPB’s lawn chair.
Axton: You want some Advil?
FPB nodded, and Axton took the pills out of his pocket and handed them over. FPB washed the pills down, took a few sips of lukewarm coffee, and leaned back in the chair, groaning miserably.
I sat down on the clean step and lit up a cigarette. Axton left FPB to his own devices and approached me cautiously. I gestured for him to come sit next to me. Axton grinned sheepishly, took his cig out of the ashtray, and sat down on the step. I wanted to keep FPB under control, so I said under my breath, “We’d better sit about two feet apart.”
Axton and I both scooched away from one another, the ashtray serving as a buffer, and we continued to speak quietly so that FPB’s hungover groans would drown out our conversation.
Axton: Are you really gonna punch me?
Me: Are you gonna make me uncomfortable?
His grin faded a bit, “Have I made you uncomfortable? If I did, I’m so sorr...”
I made eye contact with him and held it for about 3 seconds longer than I would have held friendly eye contact and replied with my own sheepish grin, “Not at all.”
​
Snorlax was sitting up by that time and he seemed to be in a world of hurt as well.
Axton: Yo, Snor! You need some hangover helper, too?
Snorlax (groaning): Pleeeeeeease.
Axton got up to fetch Snorlax some coffee, water, and pills. Those combat boots were going to need to get hosed down before he went back inside. Especially with Molly and her pissed off crew still at the house.
In fact, I could hear Molly screeching at Sage again.
Molly: There’s more mess on the porch? What sort of mess? More poo poo? A lake of liquor? You people are ANIMALS. I’m never cleaning your house again!!!
Sage: Ummm... I think it’s just booze and pee. You should be able to just power wash it.
Axton: There’s a ton of puke out there, too.
Molly: Jesus, save us all.
Axton ran to Snorlax and delivered the hangover helper.
Axton: Dude! The maids are on their way, and they’re pissed off. We gotta disappear.
I put my cigarette out, stood up, and dashed over to FPB, who was still reclining in the lawn chair with a pained expression on his face.
Me: Funky? The maids are coming. We need to get out of here.
FPB: And go where?
Me: I don’t know! I’ve never done this before. I think Axton knows, but I’m afraid to talk to him.
FPB: HEY, FUCK-FACE. Where are we running off to?
Axton: Garage! Go around the side of the house.
Axton helped Snorlax stagger around to the garage, and FPB managed to wobble to his feet. As he was standing up, I noticed a whisky wee aroma and an extra dark patch of fabric near the crotch of his black underpants. While I guided him to the garage, I tried my darndest to keep his wet boxer briefs away from my clean shirt. His crotch was level with my mid-section, so I curved my body away from him and let him basically use my shoulders and arms as a walker. In the end, we all managed to enter the garage though the side door. It was dusty, musty and stuffy, but it was blissfully devoid of puke and pee. Well, aside from FPB’s underpants.
Sage must have anticipated that we’d take shelter from the angry maids in the garage because he came out from the house and opened the garage doors for us, letting in a nice breeze.
Sage: You guys good?
We all indicated the affirmative.
Sage: Excellent. Mori should be back from the liquor store pretty soon. And he’s picking up hangover food, too.
Snorlax: What’s he getting?
Sage: Taco Bell.
Seriously? Not only were they having to restock the booze, but they were also planning to chow down on Taco Bell to help with the hangovers? There was no way in hell that was going to help.
At any rate, FPB and Snorlax were chugging the remainder of their hangover helper and seemed to be gradually getting their sea legs back. Axton had apparently been awake a little longer than they had, so his hangover seemed to have passed. I’m just assuming this since I was forbidden to speak to him. And with the only two non-hungover people there forbidden to speak to one another, the garage was eerily silent.
We were all sitting on the dusty floor and FPB, still wearing nothing but wet boxer briefs, tried to pull me into his lap.
Me (getting up and crossing the room): HELL NO. You peed yourself. I’m not sitting in your lap until you go wash up and put on some clean underpants.
FPB: It’s not pee. It’s dew.
Axton: It’s piss, bro. I can smell it.
FPB (snarling): You shut your fuck-nugget mouth, Asshat.
Wow, Axton’s ability to exhibit no reaction at all to FPB’s venom was impressive. I might have to try that and see if it would work for me.
Snorlax: He’s right. It’s definitely pee. No shame, though. I wet my pants, too. I had to get up and change at like... 6 in the morning. It sucked.
FPB: OP, please get over yourself and come sit by me.
Me: No lap sitting.
FPB: Fine.
Me: Do you want me to go get your backpack so you can change?
“Chill out, Miss Uptight! We all wet our pants every weekend. It’s tradition,” he said as he wound his long arms around me from the side.
I felt like I was in a cage. I rolled my eyes, and I think Axton noticed my exasperated expression because I could see him snickering.
FPB: What’s funny, you DICK?
Axton composed himself, and Snorlax gallantly stepped up to save us.
Snorlax: He’s laughing cause I farted. Sorry.
Always a sucker for bathroom humor, I burst out laughing. Axton started laughing again, Snorlax started laughing, lifted a cheek and really did rip one this time. The butt wind even kicked up a little dust from the garage floor. That made all the reasonable people in the garage laugh even harder. But not FPB. No, he was fuming.
FPB: What the hell is really so fucking FUNNY? Someone fess up to me or I’m gonna start flaying you bitches.
Axton: Dude. For real. We’re laughing at a fart. (more laughter)
Snorlax (also laughing): Yeah, just the thought of Taco Bell gave me gas.
FPB’s fury just made it even funnier, and all of us were in stitches.
FPB: I know you’re all laughing at ME.
Yeah, I guess it did kind of start off that way. But by the time his rage was hitting the boiling point, we really were just behaving like overgrown children and laughing hysterically at a fart. And everything was ten times funnier because we had this “stick in the mud” sitting there getting outrageously offended by the laughter. You know the feeling, right? When you’re not supposed to laugh at something, it becomes even harder not to laugh? Or is that just me?
FPB: I’m getting dressed now. OP, come help me. You two jabronis can stay in here and laugh at each other’s farts.
Instead of heading to the hammock in the back yard where FPB’s clothes presumably remained, he entered the house through the garage door and headed straight for the guest room to retrieve his backpack. Good. Maybe he was at least going to put on some clean underpants.
But, no. He wasn’t. That would have taken away from the repulsive debauchery that his whizzy boxer briefs allowed him to revel in. He really needed to settle on a story. Was he such a wild, crazy party boy that he was too cool to care that he’d wet his pants? Or was he a pathetic drunk who’d passed out and managed to collect afternoon dew in the crotch of his boxer briefs (and nowhere else on his body)? We’ll never know. His Shadowrun tramp stamp was in full view as he bent down and grabbed his wallet from his black leather backpack. He then marched into the kitchen and told Sage, “Bring me a maid.”
Sage: Ummm... they’ve got their hands pretty full at the moment.
FPB produced a hundred-dollar bill from his wallet. “I want my clothes steam cleaned. And I’ll need them spritzed with perfume. Athena’s got some here, doesn’t she?”
Sage: Yeah... But you’re gonna have to ask HER if you want to use her perfume. And you’re gonna have to ask the cleaning crew to steam your clothes. They’re all pretty annoyed with me over the condition of the house. There’s a new head maid. I’m having to pay TRIPLE the normal cleaning fee, dude.
In my mind, the considerate action would have been to forego the steaming and offer the cash to Sage, since FPB’s sparkle vomit and spilled liquor definitely contributed to the mess. Instead, FPB exited through the front door, made his way around to the backyard, and began removing his clothes from the hammock. The maids shrieked. FPB ignored the shrieks, gathered his clothes, and sauntered back into the house. Once we were back indoors, we could hear Molly going over the bill with Sage.
FPB: AHEM. Madam, I need these clothes steam cleaned.
He thrust his suit and the hundred-dollar bill in her direction.
Molly: Excuse me??? We were hired to clean this disgusting house. You want your clothes steamed, go to the drycleaners.
She sniffed the air.
Molly: And go take a shower. You smell like a diaper.
I stepped in. “Hey. Sage? Do you mind if I steam FPB’s clothes in the guest bathroom?”
Sage: Fine by me.
I pulled FPB aside. “Give me your clothes. You peed in your sleep after you took you suit off right?”
FPB: IT’S DEW.
Me: It doesn’t matter. Your underwear’s wet and you need to put on a dry pair. In the meantime, I’ll go in the bathroom, hang your clothes up, get the room steamy from the shower, and then they’ll at least be a little less wrinkled. We used to do it all the time in college.
FPB: But those bitches have professional equipment. If they can steam carpet, they can steam a suit.
Me: I think it’s a different type of steamer.
FPB: Oh, you’re an expert on steamers?
Me: Not the Cleveland kind.
Damn it, Mori would have appreciated my attempt at an obvious dirty joke.
FPB harumphed, and I put the plan into action. I turned the shower on as hot as it would go, sifted through FPB’s suit components carefully to make sure his pants were dry. Fortunately, they were. I hung the clothes as close to the shower curtain as I could without getting them wet and sat down to try and enjoy the steam room and the solitude. Maybe it would make me feel refreshed? But the sweetness of the solitude wouldn’t last, as I could hear a conversation taking place just outside the door.
Sage: What the hell, man? Why are you guarding the bathroom door?
FPB: I don’t want any of you pervs trying to walk in on my girlfriend while she showers.
Sage: Okay... I think she’s just in there steaming your fancy clothes.
FPB: She might be taking a shower, too. NAKED. I have to protect her from the male gaze.
Sage: Well... I’ve got a girlfriend. Mori’s not here, and Snorlax and Axton are both stand-up dudes.
FPB: I don’t trust Axton. I caught him picking her up on the porch, and then he tried to TALK TO HER.
Sage: “Picking her up” as in the crap you pull at work all the time? Or literally “picking her up” so she didn’t step in puke?
FPB: Uh... he made some lame excuse.
Sage: So... Picking her up so she didn’t step in puke. What a jerk.
FPB: Right?!
Sage: Listen, man. The door locks. And she’s a grown woman. Leave her alone for five minutes, for fuck’s sake. And put on some clean underwear.
FPB: IT’S DEW.
When I couldn’t take the steam anymore, I turned off the shower, retrieved FPB clothes, which did look spiffier, and opened the door to inhale the fresh, cool air. Ahhh! And the lovely cleaning crew had managed to get rid of the “poopy-pee-puke-pizza” pungency.
Apparently, being lightly mocked by the “vice principal” had embarrassed FPB enough to make him go find something better to do. No one was outside the door at that moment. I gathered FPB’s clothes, carried them to the guest room, and laid them out on the bed.
Now to find my seething anger ball of a boyfriend. Best guess? He was back in the garage, yelling at Axton and Snorlax. So that’s where I checked first.
I entered the garage from the house, and found Sage, Athena, Axton, Snorlax, and Mori all sitting around enjoying some Taco Bell and drinking beer. No FPB.
Me: Hey, guys! Have any of you seen a tall, angry guy in wet boxer briefs?
Mori: He’s on the back porch. Said he had to call his work.
Ah, yes. “Work.” That meant he was texting one of his randos. Probably the one who showed up at Sage’s house late last night.
Me: Beer me?
They all answered with a validating chorus of “Hell yeah,” and, “Go girl!”
I grabbed a beer from the cooler and scanned the room for a place to sit. Axton stood up and led me over to his spot.
Axton: Hey, guys! Who am I?
And then he pulled me onto his lap, wrapped his arms around me and started shouting in a caveman voice, “MY GIRLFRIEND. MINE. NO TALKING TO HER. DON’T EVEN LOOK OR I’LL STAB YOU IN THE EYEBALL.”
Everyone, including me, found this incredibly funny. And I was pleased to see that the whole team was acknowledging FPB’s absurdly possessive behavior. Maybe if the people he respected most in this world called him out on his insane possessiveness, he would reflect? Yeah, let’s see how that goes...
I stayed in this far too comfortable position for a minute or so. Axton was more muscular than FPB and he wasn’t “circus-freak tall,” so his lap was a much better fit. But I knew that if FPB rounded the corner and caught me sitting in another guy’s lap, he’d flip. Especially since my position in Axton’s lap had happened purely to make a mockery out of FPB. I leaned into him for a few more seconds, then slid over into my own cold, hard, lonely space.
Guess I needed to do some reflecting, too... Not because I was finding myself attracted to a guy who wasn’t my boyfriend. My boyfriend was a psycho and I needed to reflect on why I hadn’t been able to find an exit strategy that didn’t lead to terroristic threats or stalking.
Mori: I think I’ll add a new punishment tonight. But only for FPB. If he glitches, he has to sit in my lap and let me paw all over him. See how he likes it.
Me: Be sure to get a raging boner and jab him in the hip with it.
I couldn’t tell if the laughing that ensued was because I’d made a crude joke to the perfect audience or because I had unintentionally “called” the inevitable.
Mori (in a deliberately creepy tone): Oh, that won’t be a problem.
We laughed again.
And then, all the fun was sucked from the garage. FPB entered from the driveway and demanded to know what was funny.
Sage: Mori’s cooking up new punishments.
FPB: That’s... terrifying.
Me: Hey, I put your clothes in the guest room if you want to get dressed.
FPB: M’kay. I’m getting a beer first.
He cracked open a beer and headed inside. As he towered in the doorway, he turned to me.
FPB: You coming?
Mori: You need your girlfriend to help you put your clothes on? Are you in kindergarten?
FPB: Eat a dick, Mori.
Mori: Sounds delicious.
FPB shuddered and trudged inside. He hadn’t made any more demands that I accompany him, so I let him go put on his big boy pants all by himself.
*end of Chapter 4
As always, thank you so, so much for reading!
Hope to see you back for The Lap of Luxury!

I purchased a used RV and the only flaw is a grease spot on the carpet near the engine compartment cover. I’ve tried spot treating it with carpet cleaner (no effect) and oxy-clean (very little change).
What is the strongest treatment I can try that won’t dissolve the carpet?

A few weeks ago my male kitten got diagnosed with Giardia. I had no idea I needed to clean everything everyday so adamantly, so I just gave him the medication they provided for a week as prescribed and cleaned his poop right away and didn’t find out until reading on Reddit how hard it is to get rid of Giardia!
I’ve been out of the country due to a family emergency and my boyfriend refused to bring the poop sample to the vet so I only brought in his second poop sample (like to see if it’s gone) yesterday and he is still positive for Giardia, in fact they said it’s gotten worse.
So, I’ve just picked up his new doses of medication and this time I want to make sure I do this right! MY MAIN QUESTION is can I use Lysol fabric spray on my couch if I wait for it to fully dry before letting my other cat into the area again or will it still be toxic? I’m wondering because I can’t find any disinfectant sprays that are pet safe and made for fabric, but my cat with Giardia goes on the couch all the time so I know I need to disinfect it. If it’s not safe even if I wait, what can I do to disinfect my couch? Please help!!
If you want to stop reading here no worries but I figured I’d explain my plan to get rid of it here too to see if anyone has any suggestions:
I bought “veterinary pet safe disinfectant wipes” to clean his litter box everyday. I’m planning to change his litter everyday as well and ofc pick up his poo and pee right after he goes! I’ll make sure to wipe his butt and paws each time he uses the litter box with pet wipes (there’s just no way he’ll let me bathe him everyday) and he’ll be isolated in one room until the end of treatment:( I’m going to wear gloves whenever I’m cleaning/ handling his business and thoroughly was my hands after petting him. As usual I’ll wash his water and food bowls everyday. Before he’s isolated, I’m going to deep clean that room and will do the same when the treatment is done. While he is isolated, I plan to wash all my clothes, bedding, floor mats, etc (anything that can go in the washer) and deep clean my entire apartment. To clean the apartment my plan is to wipe down all the hard surfaces (counters, tables, etc) with Lysol spray, then after letting it sit a bit wash it with soap and water incase my other cat jumps on one of the surfaces (which she doesn’t really ever do). Also going to clean the carpet with a cleaner that has quartanary ammonium compounds (I read to do that somewhere, but if anyone has any other recommendations for carpet cleaner that disinfects I’d love to know!). Lastly, disinfect my couches which I’m hoping someone will give me a suggestion for:)
And of course I’ll be giving him his meds everyday for the week as prescribed.
Anything helps, thank you for reading all this!
Edit: Omg I’m now reading quartanary ammonium compound are not safe for cats I didn’t even know what that meant before but saw it recommended for cleaning carpets when pets have Giardia. So now I need help with a carpet cleaner too! I can’t afford to get it professionally cleaned unfortunately.

My kitten is a 4 month old bangle male, not yet neutered and we weighs 6.86 pounds. He’s an indoor cat who has one sister kitty and they are both fully vaccinated, but do not have the vaccine required for outdoor cats as they’re both fully indoor. We are located in central California.
A few weeks ago my male kitten got diagnosed with Giardia after a positive poop sample. I had no idea I needed to clean everything everyday so adamantly, so I just gave him the medication they provided for a week as prescribed and cleaned his poop right away and didn’t find out until reading on Reddit how hard it is to get rid of Giardia!
I’ve been out of the country due to a family emergency and my boyfriend refused to bring the poop sample to the vet so I only brought in his second poop sample (like to see if it’s gone) yesterday and he is still positive for Giardia, in fact they said it’s gotten worse.
So, I’ve just picked up his new doses of medication and this time I want to make sure I do this right! MY MAIN QUESTION is can I use Lysol fabric spray on my couch if I wait for it to fully dry before letting my other cat into the area again or will it still be toxic? I’m wondering because I can’t find any disinfectant sprays that are pet safe and made for fabric, but my cat with Giardia goes on the couch all the time so I know I need to disinfect it. If it’s not safe even if I wait, what can I do to disinfect my couch? Please help!!
If you want to stop reading here no worries but I figured I’d explain my plan to get rid of it here too to see if anyone has any suggestions:
I bought “veterinary pet safe disinfectant wipes” to clean his litter box everyday. I’m planning to change his litter everyday as well and ofc pick up his poo and pee right after he goes! I’ll make sure to wipe his butt and paws each time he uses the litter box with pet wipes (there’s just no way he’ll let me bathe him everyday) and he’ll be isolated in one room until the end of treatment:( I’m going to wear gloves whenever I’m cleaning/ handling his business and thoroughly was my hands after petting him. As usual I’ll wash his water and food bowls everyday. Before he’s isolated, I’m going to deep clean that room and will do the same when the treatment is done. While he is isolated, I plan to wash all my clothes, bedding, floor mats, etc (anything that can go in the washer) and deep clean my entire apartment. To clean the apartment my plan is to wipe down all the hard surfaces (counters, tables, etc) with Lysol spray, then after letting it sit a bit wash it with soap and water incase my other cat jumps on one of the surfaces (which she doesn’t really ever do). Also going to clean the carpet with a cleaner that has quartanary ammonium compounds (I read to do that somewhere, but if anyone has any other recommendations for carpet cleaner that disinfects I’d love to know!). Lastly, disinfect my couches which I’m hoping someone will give me a suggestion for:)
And of course I’ll be giving him his meds everyday for the week as prescribed.
Anything helps, thank you for reading all this!
Edit: Omg I’m now reading quartanary ammonium compound are not safe for cats I didn’t even know what that meant before but saw it recommended for cleaning carpets when pets have Giardia. So now I need help with a carpet cleaner too! I can’t afford to get it professionally cleaned unfortunately.

Edit: TLDR my flatmate is a grown man and he can’t wake up without me, can’t go to sleep without me, can’t clean, throws away my food because he thinks I’m too fat, rarely pays his bills and owes me over a grand which I doubt I’ll ever see, and once nearly set our flat on fire.
Things have been tense between my flatmate and me for a while. (He’s 24M, I’m 25F. We’ve been best friends since aged 11, and we moved in together nearly 2 years ago).
I work shifts in a 24/7 hotel bar, so I have an odd schedule where sometimes I have to wake up at 4am for work for an early shift and other times I’m still awake at 4am after a late shift. Management sucks so I often work 9/10 days in a row (usually 10-12 hour shifts) before I get a day off, and I’m on my feet that entire time. My flatmate on the other hand (no hate towards him, just facts) works 8 hours per week for extra money because his side of the rent and bills are paid for by his parents who are wealthy. (It’s maybe worth noting his parents are not happy about this and he argues with them on FaceTime every night, which I hear, because our walls are very thin).
He doesn’t understand how it is to work shifts, and he wakes me up at 7am every morning regardless and says I can’t sleep the day away. No amount of telling him to go away or covering my head with my pillow or even literally crying and yelling will make him go away. I have literally walked him outside and closed the door in his face and he just came back in. (Also we aren’t allowed locks, we don’t even have a lock on the toilet door). Not only does he wake me up after late shifts, he also keeps me awake before early shifts until after 1am with loud music and constantly coming into my room to tell me random things after I’ve said I’m going to sleep. Plus even if he goes to sleep at 1am I’m then so angry I can’t sleep at all and I end up going to work on nothing. One time I was so tired after I’d worked a 20 hour shift (double shift 7pm-7am, then a 7-3pm shift because someone called in sick), I told him to please not bother me unless the place is literally on fire, and he woke me up to get me to watch a midnight drug raid across our street (bare in mind we live in a shitty area so I’ve seen it all before as he knows, and I wasn’t in the mood for neighbourhood drama).
He also has an eating disorder, which isn’t his fault at all. However he projects a lot of his issues into me. I actually used to be obese and I am still overweight but I’ve lost significant weight. He is very skinny and always has been. I eat home cooked meals every day that I make for myself (unless I’m eating socially). He eats cereal and nothing else and even then he often skips his cereal dinner. I’m just glad he’s eating something and not nothing. The reason I’m mad is he throws away my food and when I ask where it went he says I don’t need it and he’s helping with my diet (I am not on a diet, I am changing my habits, I never said I was on a diet). It’s a huge waste of my money and it’s also so upsetting to come home after a 12 hour day especially when I didn’t get time to eat at work all day, and all I want is a hot meal, a blanket, and some mindless scrolling until I’m ready to pass out and sleep, and I can’t even have that because I’ve no food left and everywhere is closed, so I have to have a glass of water for dinner. For context he’s not throwing away chocolate and sweeties he’s throwing away things like broccoli and peas which I was gonna use for a healthy meal. He even once threw away my lentil and carrot soup which I put in the freezer. I don’t even care if I’m fat I still deserve a warm bowl of soup after 12 hours of Karens and and managers and stress (also this incident was in January and we live in the north of Scotland btw, so I was literally so cold and just wanted to warm up and I had to have water for dinner again because he threw out my food that I’d made specifically to warm me up after work).
Speaking of money he spends a lot of his parents cash on stuff for himself (usually Pokémon games or merch), so I often cover for him which I know I shouldn’t but we have one of those electricity sticks that you manually pay for, so if I don’t pay for it then and there we straight up don’t have electricity which affects me too. I also clean for him, not because he asks me to, but because when he does his own dishes he’s so awful at it I worry about him. He washes his dishes and leaves whole bits of food stuck to the plate and just soaps it up and carries on. So obviously I later have to take it and re-clean his dishes. He drinks a lot of tea and he literally scrubs the mug with the teabag still inside, then sticks it on the drying rack and seems to think it’s clean.
He is also dangerous around the flat, for example the worst thing he’s done is he once he left his washing in the machine too long so it smelled a bit when it came out. Rather than washing it again like a sensible person he decides to hang it up on the clothes horse, light a few candles underneath his clothes to “get the smell of the candles on the clothes”, then leave the house and go to lidl for an hour or so (our local shop). He also didn’t use candle holders. I got back from work to discover this and quickly blew out the candles which thankfully only burned a hole in the carpet, which I also paid for.
He’s still my best friend and I know I’m probably not a perfect flatmate either but I’m so tired of being his mummy he’s 24 ffs.

Looking for recommendations for a good 4000+ psi pressure washer and 20” or above surface cleaner to start my side hustle with. Used to rent but I want to own. My budget is under 1,600 for both.

The guy was a SHIFTY ASSHOLE and I HATE HIM. He knows just how to skirt the law to stay out of trouble himself while still taking advantage of people he probably knows don't have to the ability to take him to court. AND the place he leases was GROSS. The carpet was old as fuck and had a weird orange stain on large swaths of it and it took me half a bottle of carpet cleaner to get it out. He had a stink bug infestation. WHen I took my curtains down to move, like 30 or so DEAD BUGS fell off of them. More were in the sliding door frame, and more still ended up in boxes with my stuff and I didn't find them until I moved. I'm sure there's some lodged in my couch cushions. Stink bugs can't hurt you but I cant express enough how much it wears you out when you're constantly finding bugs in your house. He had live birds living in his damn roof overhang he never did anything about. They ripped holes in the roof and would shit all over the balcony. Would not be shocked if the managed to get into the attic at some point. He's just a shady asshole who basically runs a slum and he keeps contacting me with shit because I had to move out early. Fucker doesn't deserve any cash at all. I hope his own house goes up in flames.

My family moved into an apartment in Manhattan about 10 years ago. We snatched a 3 bedroom, 1.5 bath in an ideal location with rent below $1,500. It’s come with its fair share of problems. We’ve had bedbugs for a year, after the Super told us he’d exterminated the apartment. We’ve had pest and cockroach infestations despite bleaching and cleaning the entire house constantly. Each time, we found ways to solve every problem: we removed carpets and I found a roach exterminator gel that hoard cleaners in Korea use after stumbling across a video.
Luckily for me and my sister, the room we shared was able to avoid most of these issues (except the bedbugs you can’t escape from that). In the past 2 to 3 years, however, rising in frequency, there’s been a particular nasty odor outside our window. We are the smallest bedroom in the apartment and we have a very large window about 6 feet tall that looks out into a lot of trees. It has a direct view of the moon unobstructed at night and sunlight every morning. At first it was just a nasty smell that went away after a few moments. In recent months, it lingers for hours, wakes you up in the middle of your sleep, and gives anyone sleeping in the room for more than a few hours a nasty headache. I’ve been in subway cars where homeless men have streaked their shit on car seats; I’ve farmed and have been able to handle shit filled stables; I’ve never shied away from cleaning vomit and piss from drunk friends, but this smell has inspired a suicide letter. I just graduated university and can’t afford in the near future to move out.
My sister and I can smell it. It’s always the same smell. And maybe we can identify it so quickly because we have memorized the smell, but my mother says she can’t. I thought I was loosing my mind. But I know I’m right. There was an incident recently where I smelled something rotten in the room. I asked my mom and she said she smelled something too, but not too strongly. A day later I found a freshly dead mouse under my desk hidden behind my small grey trash can. Fortunately, now I know I’m not smelling the corpse of an animal, because the smell of the mouse in my room was slightly less pungent than our smell.
I thought someone from upstairs was pissing down our window. But there’s only air conditioners above us (My mom even yelled at an upstairs neighbor thinking they were the culprits). There is a smell, and it only occurs after a dripping sound hits the window. After telling me it might just be the smell of foliage, my mom asked if I wanted to switch rooms with my younger brother. I almost lost my shit. A slightly bigger room yes, but one that faces a brick wall and has the smallest closet. One that doesn’t have a view overlooking trees and the moon every night. One that was not the well decorated safe haven we made it to be. What can the smell be? Our Superintendent is almost never available, and my mom wants to help but is definitely laughing at me. How can I keep this window and stop the smell? Can someone help?

Hi everyone! My landlord is selling the unit that I have lived in for over 8 years. Yesterday out of the blue without warning a realtor showed up at my door to introduce himself. I was quite taken aback and explained to him that our landlord had never told us that he would be stopping over and that I would appreciate a 24 to 48hr notice before showing up at my door again. Just to set a baseline for them to know that I know my housing rights and that I will not be pushed around after being lied about and having my name drug through the mud (explained below). I was courteous and respectful of him though because he did not understand the situation at which he been put in...as far as I know.
For context I live in Los Angeles in an owned townhouse unit built in 1979. We are month to month. It's a nice place and to honest my gf and I are more then happy to leave but we are not in the best financial situation to just up and go. We've been saving but it's just not enough so I feel a strong need to protect our living situation until we are able to do so.
Just before our old Landlord"s (A) sister (B) took over the unit in January 2023, A had lied about us not paying rent and B came over saying I personally owe them over $17,000 in back rent from 2020. So A lied saying I that was subletting the unit and not paying full rent or even in general. I had to clear up my entire experience at this place and my name to B with proof of payments, conversations and everything. Incredibly stressful situation and since then I have been on the extreme defensive. Possibly thinking of getting a lawyer and have consulted one that told me they don't have a leg to stand on to take me to court.
Since B took over they have not done a single requested repair from a list I gave them in January 2023. Carpets are over 12 years old, there's repairs that weren't finished from a drainage leak, our garage isnt closed off from the public, ect... I usually did the repairs previously and just took it out of rent per our previous agreement, but no longer will I be doing that so I have to live with unfixed issues now in the unit. They don't give a fuck because they are selling as is, so fuck us.
I feel harassed and disrespected after years of a good tenant landlord relationship. Should I think of getting a lawyer? Affording a lawyer is something that will be very difficult but may have to be done. What other rights do or don't I have? Do I even have any rights anymore?
Obviously there may be a lot more info needed so feel free to ask any questions.

I already extracted the seats and carpet (thank God for weather tech) with a mixture of carpet cleaner, a carpet deodorizer, and oxi clean. The water was running clear, and I cleaned the seat rails and door panel with griots interior and alcohol. I still kind of smell it tho, so I sprayed it with commercial grade disinfectant deodorant. There's still a smell, not as bad, but still there. I stocked up on Bath and Body works car scents lol. Is there anything else I can do to get rid of the smell?

hello! i have a dorkie (dachshund yorkie mix) who is around 8 years old, and he is VERY attached to my mom. he’s technically a family dog, but also only my moms dog. he likes me and gets happy to see me/kiss me/snuggles which is why i’m confused as to why he’s marking my stuff.
he does it mostly when i run to the bathroom quickly and forget to shut my door. he pees on my clothes most of the time. i always clean it with an enzymatic cleaner (one used for cat pee, so it’s STRONG) and i use a “no marking” spray and he still continues to do it.
i’m just confused as to why he feels the need to piss on ONLY my stuff and only in my room? he will even pee on my shoes left downstairs. i try to keep my door closed as much as possible, but it’s hard because my cats food and litter are in my bedroom and i don’t want to lock her inside my room all day.
i know this is a behavior issue because his vet says he’s fine. i also just got new carpet like 8 months ago because he completely destroyed my carpet before. thank you!

I'm looking for a vacuum to clean the couches/stairs etc... under $150 (CAD) Any recommendations? Thanks :)

I 20f have been working for a single mom for three years now as a babysitter and part time house cleaner. She has two children, 6f and 9b. I have saved most of my money over the years to about 10k which I intend to use for studying abroad. Within the last few months, the mother has started asking me to pitch in for small things like buying groceries here and there and things for the kids. I was fine with this since it wasn’t anything that would break my bank.
However, last week Joyce approached me and asked that I pay rent since I work in her home every day of the week up to ten hours. She said it’s to compensate for the things that she dosent use (such as water and electric bill). She said that she would give me an allowance instead and the rest of what I would have made would go back to the utilities. Before I made 900 a month, but she wanted to give me a weekly allowance of 200.
I refused and apologized. But she won’t answer my calls or messages. She came to my apartment yesterday and returned things that I had left, my roommate said that she is very sad to have to let me go and that her children are deeply hurt
I feel like I made a huge mistake. They are basically my family and I can’t imagine going about my life without them. What should I do?

I got divorced a year ago and my town is really bad about pet policies, to the point that when I moved out there were no available places that allowed pets. There are a few places available now and I was considering moving, but I realized that with as much as it would cost to move, it wouldn't hurt to ask my landlord to make an exception. I want to be reasonable. As landlords go he's not a bad guy and I'd like to stay here if possible. I'm having a hard time starting this conversation, but I asked an AI for help and I made a few adjustments to the answer it gave me. This is what I got:
"Hi, [Landlord]. This is [me] from [my apartment]. I know when we signed the lease, you said no pets. But I would like to have a cat. Is there any possibility for us to discuss this? I understand that your goal is to protect your investment, and I'm more than happy to pay more to cover any costs that might arise as a result of the cat. I would be willing to pay an extra deposit so that our current deposit can be enough to replace the carpets if needed, as well as paying pet rent. As tenants go, we are very clean people. Keeping the apartment from smelling like cats is important to me and I have been successful with this whenever I have had cats before. I would also be willing to replace blinds upon moving out if the cat causes any damage to them. Is that something that could work for you? If not, that's fine, but I figured it couldn't hurt to ask."
I'm really nervous about this. I want this conversation to go well and I want to be respectful about it. Is there anything that needs changing in this and am I out of line for asking at all?