Alas, the suckage from the remaining household vents was much less interesting than the valium bottles, although somewhat more lucrative: half a toolbox full of rusty nails, a truckload of 1"x1" tiles, enough cat hair to knit an army of cats, and a heap of pennies and dimes. Apparently the previous owners of this house were drug-addicted pet owners who engaged in catastrophically clumsy home repair projects (actually, this would explain a lot).

If you're really lucky, then next week I'll list the contents of my sofa cushions and everything under the back seat of the car.

But at the moment I am recuperating from this horrific project with the redundant snack of ginseng tea and crystalized ginger and am indulging in an overload of ancient Throwing Muses albums. Ahhhhh.

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