Every Friday (eight words)
mismatched garbage cans
ten overflowing bags
suburban shame
I have three beautiful sons that are lucky enough to look like their Mother. I spend all of my time with those little bastards. I'm rated 18th in the World for Competitive Eating. It makes my Mom nervous, she thought I was going to be a Doctor.
mismatched garbage cans
ten overflowing bags
suburban shame
Labels: Eight Words
4 comments:
reduce. reuse. recycle.
Wow. Here, we have trash limits: 2 cans and 2 bags. that's it. It's their way of making sure we recycle, I suppose.
(are trash cans supposed to match??)
We can have one can. If we have any more than that we have to go buy special stickers for two bucks each to put on the extra bags... But they'll still only take a limit of five, and if you happen to put the special trash sticker on your bag in such a manner that the garbage truck driver can't see it from three blocks away whilst eating a donut they will leave your garbage there.
All this only applies to the poor parts of town, mind you. My mother-in-law can put as much garbage out as she wants...
Hey, we watched you on TV again Sunday night! (I recorded the Wedges on Spike. I've seen it three times.)
Why doesn't
the neighbor
have any
garbage ever?
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