Severed heads, portaloos, bicycle riders and some other stuff

About two weeks ago, my sister Catherine's room started to smell. Like, really bad. And not just dirty-socks-under-the-bed bad; it was more like dead-body-under-the-bed bad. I asked my dad to check if there were any dead bodies in the ceiling above Catherine's room, which, if you think about it, is a total possibility. I'm not kidding when I say I hear noises in the roof at night. Loud noises. Like, I think Gollum might be living up there.
So anyway, Dad got a ladder and this huge industrial torch, and climbed into the attic. Oh, let me interrupt myself to say when he did this, I had a total Grudge moment - you know, when the guy sticks his head into the attic and sees the girls jaw on the ground? And then he gets attacked by the cat-boy? So I had visions of my Dad getting mauled by either Gollum or a Japanese ghost, but nothing happened.
How boring.
Anyway he left the torch in the middle of our upstairs living room, and we are all so lazy in my family that nobody has bothered to take it back downstairs yet. So its been sitting there for two weeks. And every time I walk across the living room - which is alot, seeings as my room is attached to one side of it - I freak out, because I keep thinking its a severed head.
....
Speaking of people leaving things on the floor and then me thinking they are severed heads, Catherine left her toiletries bag (which is actually MY toiletries bag, only she stole it) in the middle of the bathroom floor for about 4 days, and every time I got up in the middle of the night to pee, I thought I was seeing a corpse head lying on the bath mat.
What is with that, anyway? There are plenty of other things I could think it was - my cat, a towel, a stain on the mat. But a severed head? I think I watch too much TV.

On a completely different note, today I came up with the perfect advertising slogan for Oporto, should they ever choose to join forces with a company that produces portable toilets:

Just Gotta Go: Oport-a-loo!

At about the same time, I had a revelation about bicycle riders that went something like this:
Jacki: You know, I feel really bad for bicycle riders. If they ride on the sidewalk, you think they're going run over you, and if they ride on the road, you think you're going to run over them!
Catherine: Huh. Yeah.
Genius, right?