The Great Trash Conundrum

I don't know what it is about trash, but I hate it.
Not the idea of trash... taking it out and putting it at the curb.
Come to think of it, I have always hated trash, just not as much as mowing. Now that we have hired a child (damn near) entrepreneur to do the mowing, I can concentrate my hatred more efficiently and totally on trash. This simplifies the entire operation.

It starts a few days before actual trash day. I see the trash in the house and can start to hear it mocking me. It is not pleasant. It starts to grow over the top of the can. A day later it is actively mocking me. I do my best to ignore it because it's still not trash day and to actively see the trash would mean I had to carry it outside and I'm having no part of that. This Active Ignore process is usually ruined by The Commandant, who gently 'reminds' me to take the inside trash outside. This just creates another problem, in that I have to put the wife on Active Ignore. Some people spend most of their marriage with the wife on Active Ignore, justifiably or not.

Due to the expanded load of items on Active Ignore, it becomes too much to bear and I can again hear the trash mocking me, this time even louder, with derisive laughter (Bruce). If I'm very lucky, this process has eaten up enough time that it's the night before trash and I can put everything out anyway.

My city has weird trash laws. No, really... apparently they've got nothing better to do that legislate what time you can put out your trash (the afternoon before) and when the cans have to be off the curb (next morning, latest). Worse than the regulations are the people who follow them to the letter. This would consist of exactly one person, and I use the term 'person' lightly. It's the Crazy Lady, who uses her age (438 this year) to get people to do stuff for her. Some dude pops by at precisely the first moment you can put the bins at the curb and does so. He's obviously a nice guy to do this every week, but it also could be that if he doesn't, she'd talk to him. She has snakes coming out of her head, and most of her body parts have been replaced three or four times, so I wouldn't be in the vicinity either if she spoke. The entire neighborhood is composed of really nice people who do stuff for her. One guy was replacing the roof of her patio. I pleasantly suggested he place an anvil in the roof, ala Wile E. Coyote, and rig it to the door, so when she opens it, BOOM. He looked at me like I was nuts. This is a look that no longer bothers me, as I see it all the time. In fact, I have come to expect and cherish it. They don't know this monster, who has a red phone that goes directly to the city inspectors for when she thinks something is out of spec with my house. This is the lady who reported standing water in my back yard. Standing water was Marshall's pool. It is a rather large, purple-ish thing that leaves no doubt as to its function. I'm sure they had kiddie pools wherever she came from - even the depths of hell, where she might have ruled for a period of time.

Where was I? Oh yeah, trash.
So it's nine or ten pm, the night before trash day. All of the sudden, I remember that trash has to go out. While I still have the same complete lack of enthusiasm for the task, I have no choice. But wait!!! The cans are so incredibly LOUD that I don't want to disturb the entire block. But then again, it would disturb the Crazy Lady. No it won't, she's bloody deaf. Or at least she says she is. Having no choice, I get the trash out. This actually happens without too much grief and aggravation, except for noise. I keep telling myself that wasn't so bad, but by the following week, I'm back to Active Ignore and the process starts anew. 

You think I'm done, don't you?
Nope.
There's the small matter of paper/cardboard recycling. We haven't quite gotten the hang of this yet. Obviously we know paper and cardboard when we see it.. it's just the process. Wife puts the collection basket in a different spot than the trash. And we always generate a lot of paper, overwhelming the poor basket. So every time I go to take this stuff to its can, it all leaps out of the basket, all over me, then into the can, except for the seventeen small bits of paper that lands on the ground. This is only a small issue, as it's completely dark and I can't see the ground. At this point, I receive help from an unlikely source: another neighbor. This fellow is a paranoid schizophrenic and has motion detecting lights, to detect when someone is vandalizing his car. He's a very nice guy and there were people vandalizing his car - the embodiment of "just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they aren't out to get you." His light guides the way to the bits of paper on the ground.  Every week, when this nonsense is done, I swear to the wife that we need a better system for this. And every week she agrees. And every week (for over ten years), I take the same basket out, with the same result.

And this is why we had to hire someone to mow; because if trash seems like an endless house of horrors, it's nothing compared to mowing.

Just don't get me started on cleaning the house.

• Another of the World's Smallest Books: Hot Policewomen on COPS

This week's Marshall news:  This was a between week, so it was blood work. He's been turning his head quickly, beating himself to death with his own flaps. This is indicative of ear problems. At the oncologist, we asked if they could look at his ears. The nurse said.. "uhhh..... no. That's a doctor visit - you'll have to call your vet."

WTF?

So Marshall stopped to visit the vet, with steaming parents. The vet takes a look, plays with her Vet Chemistry Set, and delivers the happy news: Marshall has not one, but three separate ear infections. He has single-pawedly generated three separate bills in one day. Not only is he incredibly smart, he's incredibly talented too.  Now, if he could only use these talents to make some money...

• I  have seen some weird stuff on tv, but the winner of the name contest has to be Peaky Blinders. I don't even want to watch it with that stupid a title. I did make the mistake of watching it with the wife, which was, as I said, a mistake. Good old fashioned (very old) fistfights with Irish accents. No thanks; I can see that at work every day.
• Speaking of television, this weeks award for Best Spoken Phrase goes to one of those pregnant teen shows for the line, "Nobody told me it was so easy to get pregnant." This was closely followed by one of the mothers of the teens, who said, "Quite honestly, I wasn't surprised."

Have you ever met a person named Ignatius?
Neither have I.

• Please look carefully at your email. Phishing is out of control this holiday season. A great rule of thumb, used by me personally, is NO. Just don't. Don't open it, don't read it, and don't click on it. Since I'm one of four people on the planet who do this, I'll make a few recommendations for the rest of you:
• if some huge retail outlet sends you an email offering free this or sale that, hover your mouse over the link to see if it really goes to where it says. Better yet, go directly to their website - do not click on the link. Anything they're trying to sell you will be on their page.
• if an email asks you for money or personal/credit card details, DON'T. Period. Whether it's a Nigerian prince or Sears, don't.
• be suspicious of bad spelling or wording. No legitimate concern is going to send you anything with bad grammar or spelling.
• if there is a file attachment, don't open it.
• if the email is from a friend and looks weird or has an unknown attachment, get in touch with them to make sure they sent it, instead of being spoofed or hacked.
• if the email is from anyone under 25, delete it. People under 25 don't recognize the validity of email, instead preferring Faceyspaces. They'll send you their dopey pictures and pithy ramblings online.

Don't forget: there are only 400 days til next Christmas. Shop early.

• Researchers have discovered an unprotected database containing 1.8 billion posts collected by a Department of Defense contractor, who didn't secure the Amazon Cloud Storage correctly. This is why we do not ask the government to protect us. In fact, we need protection from the government.

There's a new method to lock your phone that uses your face. No, it's not the new one... it works like this: the phone takes one look at my face and locks itself out of fear and sheer terror. Unfortunately it also locks if you have ugly friends or relatives, or a particularly unsightly child.

• Here's a chilling headline: "Senators introduce USA Liberty Act." No good can come from this. The trick to deciphering any legislation is to read it. If you can't or won't, look at the title. The bill's effect will be the opposite of the title, hence Liberty Act is designed to take away your liberty, just like the Patriot Act. 

This week we said goodbye to that nice Charlie Manson. Unfortunately I haven't had time to put together a musical tribute, but he did present songs to the Beach Boys and others, plus he believed the Beatles were speaking to him (Helter Skelter).

The man was raised by wolves. Actually that's not fair to wolves. His (single) mom was a prostitute and not really present or a good parent. He was in California and happened to be close to a known CIA mind control facility. Considering his hypnotic influence on followers and famous people, along with the unbelievable horror of his crimes, you might consider that there could be more than a coincidence in his location. I do not know if any mental health worker ever spoke to him during his incarceration, as they did Sirhan "please call me Sirhan" Sirhan.

Who'd have thought that permanently scrawling a swastika in your forehead would get you denied parole every time?

• Speaking of goodbye, we bid a fine farewell to Malcolm Young, founder of AC/DC. Malcolm left the band recently because he was diagnosed with dementia and could no longer play. He was 67. For my money, he was the best rhythm guitar player in the business. The band is still touring. I believe his brother, Angus, of the schoolboy uniform, is the only original member.

would you eat a burger from this mascot?