Life had a look up point on Friday when the trash folks dropped off the new recycle bin. That sucker is bigger than our trash by about double. On the top is a list of what does and does not go in. So yesterday I spent a fair amount of time putting all the recycle items that have been hanging about, waiting for the magical day wherein the twinkle fairies will drop their blessings on it, and it can be transported magically to the great God Garbageous in the sky. The bin holds 65 gallons and is about half full at this point.
Naturally Mr. Footless is remarkably pissed off because he no longer has the control and excuse to keep his heaps and fuss with them. Among others I emptied a bin that has been sitting on the living room floor for four months because he had an anxiety attack about it being something he had not seen. My response was "Too Bad."
Mr Footless is considerably less than pleased with me.
Then of course yesterday I caught him red handed in a twisted little piece of ugly called" pick a fight and blame the receiver." Isn't it funny what people do to keep themselves safe.?
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Edward Gorey and some additions
This is my place to practice writing, let off steam and let people I know into what is going on.
No one walked down Bleak Street at night—not where hobgoblins hobnobbed, skeletons skulked, vampires vamped, and the dumpster behind the Chinese buffet smelled like zombies.
dances with needles
Edward Gorey and some additions
No comments:
Post a Comment