Posted by: Hannah | 12/04/2013

Over-Sharing Neighbour, Part 6

Harry came running home from the bus stop yesterday, a bit frantic. “There’s a fire truck and an ambulance outside Over-Sharing Neighbour’s house!” he said, panting to catch his breath. “I wonder if there was an accident or something?”

I reassured him that it was probably just another fender-bender on the road – there have been a lot of them lately, as the temperature hovers around the freezing point and people are scrambling to remember how to drive on slick pavement. Then, frankly, I forgot about it. The kids were crotchety, I had a dentist appointment, there was a storm coming… I just didn’t have time or mental energy to spend on it.

Then, this morning at the bus stop. “Good morning!” I said pleasantly. “Well, at least I didn’t have to take Husband to emerg,” she replied, laughing.

And thus I was told probably the greatest story in the history of ever. This may be the swan song for Over-Sharing Neighbour, folks. I just don’t see how I’ll be able to top this one.


I’ve mentioned before that we are on wells here, and that the water is very very hard. Fixtures are perma-stained with rust, and everyone in the area has their own pet method for removing the gross build-up. Yesterday afternoon, OSN’s husband suddenly decided that he’d spent enough time looking at a scungy rusty toilet, and bestirred himself to clean it.

The toilet had a 2000 Flushes cake in it already – chemical # 1. In a perfect orgy of stain-induced rage, he then added a generous squirt of bottled toilet bowl cleaner (chemical # 2),  undiluted household bleach (chemical # 3), and half a jug of CLR (chemical # 4).

Apparently then everything in the bowl started to foam up, and a visible cloud of smoke rose up – which he then breathed in twice, because reasons. He nearly vomited, then collapsed. He crawled out of the bathroom on his hands and knees and announced “my lungs are burning… I don’t feel so good”.

Meanwhile, the poisonous fumes from the bathroom were now wafting through the house (because he’d been doing his little project with the window closed and the exhaust fan off). Over-Sharing Neighbour only finished covering the windows in plastic two days ago, so the airflow was basically nil.

In essence, he accidentally turned the family toilet into a meth lab and hot-boxed his entire house.

Over-Sharing Neighbour called 811 – our non-emergency tele-health service. They immediately transferred her to a 911 dispatcher, and thus the presence of six volunteer firefighters and three paramedics in their living room.

Diagnosis – chemical burns to his airway and upper lungs. Treatment – fresh air, rest, and a lock for the cabinet where the cleaning materials are kept.

“And you know the worst part?” said OSN, as the bus pulled over the hill. “He’ll never clean a toilet again after this.”

HA. Indeed.



  1. Just not the sharpest tools in the toolshed are they?
    This made me howl with laughter. Because I am a very bad person.

    • Right? I was wiping tears of mirth while she was telling me this story (she was too, to be fair). I like to tell myself I wouldn’t have found it at all amusing if the damn fool had died, but then I think of how I laugh over the Darwin Awards and, well…

  2. Oh please do not ever stop sharing your moments with OSN. Every time I see that in the subject line I hop to it for I know it will be a treat. Today’s story made me giggle out loud in my cubicle. As al holiday story this could be your Dave cooks a Turkey.

    • I suddenly imagined Mr & Mrs OSN cooking a turkey and it was so awesome I’m tempted to buy them a turkey and leave it on their porch just for the blog-fodder that will surely follow.

  3. Oh wow. I am not sure what to say!

    • There are no words.

  4. Wow, you have to be REALLY upset about rust stains to put in toilet bowl cleaner, bleach, and CLR altogether. Take THAT motherfucking rush stains *dies*

    • You motherfucking rust stains will NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE!

    • Bwa ha ha ha ha!

  5. After feeling like a spectacularly idiotic….uh, idiot, I guess, on Monday at my exam (blog post to follow), I really needed a “at least I’m not him” moment. THANK-YOU, HANNAH.

    • “Idiot” covers an awful lot of territory, I’m discovering.

  6. I am so happy to hear another OSN story, never ever stop!

    I thought of the Darwin awards too, this one could be a runner-up (since there were no fatalities)

    It’s probably for the best that he never clean a toilet again.


    • I keep wondering what would have happened if he’d had, say, a mini-grinder or a sandblaster when he got the sudden urge to go stain-scrubbing.

  7. It just gets better and better with these neighbors. Do you even try to keep a straight face? I just couldn’t.

    • Nope, this time I laughed until the tears ran (once I found out he would not die, mind you, I’m not completely heartless).

  8. In essence, he accidentally turned the family toilet into a meth lab and hot-boxed his entire house.
    Shouting with laughter here. Oh, my stomach. But he can’t win a Darwin award, even if he had managed to kill himself — he’s already procreated. His sub-standard genes are Out There.

    • *takes bow*

      I forgot about that key Darwin Award point.

  9. OK but what about the toilet? Is it finally rust-stain free? I kid, this story made me bark with laughter. Once again people at work realize I’m . . . not working right now.

    • The toilet did NOT, in fact, get clean. 😀

  10. OMFG. Some people should not be allowed to procreate… 🙂

  11. Oh dear lord. I’m pretty sure that’s the recipe for mustard gas!

  12. […] of nothing noteworthy on the Over-Sharing Neighbour front, I was starting to think that perhaps the last adventure had taught everyone a valuable […]

  13. There is a gif for how I am feeling and what I am thinking after reading this.

    There’s no way words can describe it.

    They served him with a special ID 10 T citation, yes?

    Oh brother!

  14. […] Part 6 […]

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