I'm starting to think my bathroom contains its own (admittedly rather petty) Hellmouth. Or possibly it was built on the site of a mysterious Shrew Burial Ground.
Things I have discovered gaining access to my bathroom:
-The Ghastly Plastic Homonculus.
-The common Bathroom Spider (no surprise there, I suppose it would be more sinister if there weren't any).
-A large Black Cat (I was in the bath, and it stuck its paws and head through the open window, which is quite low, and thus only about a foot above my face - I don't know who was more surprised, but it didn't enter the room fully, correctly surmising that any further journeying on its part would be A) wet and B) complicated).
-The Yellow Lovecraftian Mushroom
I can now add to the list:
-A Vine (don't what kind, there was just a tendril making its way up through the tiles, -I suppose I should have let it continue on the off-chance it might bear grapes and therefore pay for itself in the long run).
-A thousand million ants.
The ants I got up with my dustbuster which I emptied out of the kitchen window. I heard them all shouting 'wheeeeeeee' *as they dropped two stories** down onto the patio, falling very slowly due to their small mass.
Seriously, I make sure I never fall asleep in the bath these days. I might wake up to the gentle croaking of tree frogs, with tropical ferns caressing my face as monkeys run off with the soap.
One possible area of blame is the regular revolting retching noises my co-occupant makes when she brushes her teeth with an electric toothbrush first thing in the morning and last thing at night. I used to think she was just pushing the brush a tad too far back, but now I'm starting to think she might be summoning some kind of Hell Dimension Portal...
* And then, slightly later: 'Again! Again!".
** Don't try and work out the weird topography of my house. You'll go cross-eyed, and all the milk in your fridge will turn cheesy.