The nasty old man on the third floor of my building is dead. How do we know? Cause we can smell him. He doesn't answer his knock. He's ninety something and the landlord etc has been sent for. It is a very distinctive oder. The investigation began with Lena and Chuckie showing up at my door. Lena lives on second and Chuckie, her ex brother in-law who is the building's handy man on first, which is my floor. The odor pervaded the second. So they were going door to door to check on the residents and to see who might be dead. Gruesome enough yet? With my little dog tucked under my arm and morbid curiosity as my main companion we checked on everyone. Which led us at length to Mr. Harvey's door and yup. It checked out. Levy went balistic, snarly growly. Definitely not happy little dog. After trying to get all taint of oder off self I lit up some incense because the whole building now seems to be full of it.

Nasty, nasty, nasty. Well, at least this time it wasn't another case of Mitch filling more 44s with piss.

I guess I'll have to write another Tale of the Bryn Mawr.