I probably unconsciously emulated The Big Lebowski but ... there's was this turkish-ish rug at my first band's practicing spot (friend's parents garage) that I grew particularly fond of. When we split up because college etc. I asked my friend's mom if I could keep the rug.

I kept the thing ever since, all through college and then some. It really tied any room altogether. The amount of ashtrays, beers, bong water, food and other bodily fluids spilled on that thing ... I can't imagine.

One day few years ago I decided to thoroughly wash it. I was happy with my results, it smelled almost fresh again. It spent all autumn and winter on a wood floor next to a window. In spring the sun started to peak through the windows for a few minutes at midday. In may the rug started to stink up the room. You could swear by the smell that a bunch of dirty drunk potheads had spent a week thrashing the place. It's as if I had not washed it at all.