Take a look at this sinister bin.
I had to take a picture of it after dark because I didn’t want anyone watching me scurrying across the road like a cockroach taking incriminating photographs.
It’s a council bin.
For the last thirteen years, I’ve lazed on my bed watching people surreptitiously pull up and dump their Christmas prawn shells in this bin. I’ve seen all sorts of heinous atrocities dumped in this bin, not to mention it has doggy poop bags attached to it which have been ravaged across council lawns in an act of savagery by louty drunken kids which I’ve often picked up out of the goodness of my barely beating, stone cold, fibrillating heart.
The bin is designed to take in the excrement excreted from a dog’s bum. This hell hole of odious filth has existed directly opposite my house for thirteen years and I’ve never once complained about it to the council.
Last week, as I picked up leaves from the one and a half metres of council property on our front lawn : the part where our mail man takes pleasure in ripping up the newly laid (highly expensive) lawn as he manoeuvers his motorbike across to deliver the rates bill, I decided to dump a couple of shopping bags full of leaves into the bin.
Okay, it may have been three bags… or maybe four, but the bin was empty and it’s a big bin. We'd already paid for two enormous skips and it was only a few bags for fudge's sake.
Imagine my surprise when I walked past the bin this afternoon and espied this message scrawled on top of the bin and seemingly directed at one Pinky Poinker.
It’s a council bin.
For the last thirteen years, I’ve lazed on my bed watching people surreptitiously pull up and dump their Christmas prawn shells in this bin. I’ve seen all sorts of heinous atrocities dumped in this bin, not to mention it has doggy poop bags attached to it which have been ravaged across council lawns in an act of savagery by louty drunken kids which I’ve often picked up out of the goodness of my barely beating, stone cold, fibrillating heart.
The bin is designed to take in the excrement excreted from a dog’s bum. This hell hole of odious filth has existed directly opposite my house for thirteen years and I’ve never once complained about it to the council.
Last week, as I picked up leaves from the one and a half metres of council property on our front lawn : the part where our mail man takes pleasure in ripping up the newly laid (highly expensive) lawn as he manoeuvers his motorbike across to deliver the rates bill, I decided to dump a couple of shopping bags full of leaves into the bin.
Okay, it may have been three bags… or maybe four, but the bin was empty and it’s a big bin. We'd already paid for two enormous skips and it was only a few bags for fudge's sake.
Imagine my surprise when I walked past the bin this afternoon and espied this message scrawled on top of the bin and seemingly directed at one Pinky Poinker.
No… it was some nosey parker, irritating, goody-goody, wanker neighbor who has nothing better to do than pick on Pinky for putting a handful of leaves in a bin designed for dog shit.
So… take me to court. Bring it on, you piddling, pathetic do-gooder.
I’ve just spent three weeks working on my bloody mindedness as I scrubbed my kitchen cupboards.
I'm ready to rumble.
Bring it on mofo!
Bring it on mofo!
Impersonating a council worker and vandalising a bin is currently under investigation!