Drowning in bin bags

I had a clean up today, and collected all the unused binbags. We now have a small pile of them, and keep being given more.

This is because of Mrs Busybody. Mrs Busybody is the woman who accosted me the time the man downstairs gave me a bin bag as a gift; she's the one who insisted I give it back to him. Anyway, it turns out she's a bit of a sticky beak (hence the name) and as I am not technically supposed to live here I try to avoid her, which of course means she jumps out at me at any opportunity. I think she actually waits and hides in the stairwell like a trapdoor spider.

Anyway, she seems to think I live in the other room, the one we rejected as it was already occupied by cockroaches, and we like to leave her with that assumption as it means she won't try to get me kicked out. This means that when she comes round with the weekly bin bag -they used to be posted in our postboxes, but they stopped doing that when someone started bending the doors of the boxes in order to get at the sac poubelle middle, which is ridiculous - how cheap do you have to be to steal binbags?! Even more annoyingly these door bending crimes apparently occurred just after she caught me taking the bin bag from the man downstairs - it wasn't me, I swear, but judging by the suspicious looks she gave me she thought it was. Although suspicious seems to be her default setting, so perhaps not - so anyway, when she comes round with the weekly bin bag she gives me one, and Ben one. But we go through one a week, so our little pile is getting bigger and bigger, until we've had to give them a drawer all to themselves, and I can barely close it anymore (this is an exaggeration, obviously, but the literary world would be nowhere without hyperbole).

It never rains (sac poubelles) but it pours (sac poubelles).