I empathize. One of my old roomates moved out of the house when I was across the country going to a funeral. When I got back he had left the place a hideous mess but the centerpeice of it all was a full jug of milk he left in the living room. In july. Luckily it was capped, but it was swollen to the size of a beach ball. A beach ball filled with sour, fermenting milk. I picked it up to throw it away and it burst, covering me in the foul stuff. When I caught up with him a couple of months later and asked him about it, he acted like he had no idea what I was talking about. Gah, just telling the story brings back memories of that stench.
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