Monday, 21 September 2009


Every house in the land has a wonderfully coloured array of plastic wheelie bins stuck around the side of the house. And the pile of lazy bastards who just leave them at the top of the drive for us all to walk past. Each different coloured bin has a different function. One, normally green carries garden waste(within strict council guidelines); The blue one for re-cycling(within strict council guidelines) And the grotty grey one for the usual shit and stuff that your not sure if it should go in the other pretty bins(within strict council guidelines) or not. So we have our range of pretty bins and all we have to do is pull them out to the road to be emptied, whenever!.... Various councils throughout our fair isles have deemed, in their usual efficiant way that various bins of various rubbish should be picked up at various times and at various frequencies. I still haven't a clue when and which binis to be emptied when. So, like most sturdy Brits, on hearing the wagons around the corner ,you go racing out to grab the grey bin. Only to find out its a blue bin day, so you run back with the grey and swap it, only to find out that next door who'd put their blue bin out was wrong. So your lovely wife shouts down "it's the green bin !" SO another swap takes place. Soon as you idly gaze out the window, you see it was actually the grey bin all along. Then you burst out of the front drive to grab the grey bin ,drag it up the road after the accelerating dustwagon, then drag the grey(thankfully empty), and the green(still f***'in full) back round the side of the house till the next bin-based adventure in days, weeks, months, god, who knows, but councillor shitinthegreybinforbrains.

But every grey bin has a silver lining. A few weeks ago we were at a village festival in Wales and they had a wheelie bin race. A variety of men and women of a broad age range, some in fancy dress dragged these wheelie bins around a thickly grassy field riddled with cow pats and with footwork akin to a ballroom dancer they sprinted, jumped ,turned and leapt over the obstacle course that was the farmers field.

I think, forget the running jumping, athletics ,swimming, gymnastics,etc,etc. The future of British sport lies in the wheelie bin.....I'm not sure which colour.


Peter K said...

If they had Binifresh in their wheelie bins they would smell nice too! :-)

Cathy said...

I used to have a nice, neat, small wheelie bin and some b*****d nicked it (probably in training for the Olympics)(you can't trust anybody nowadays) and the council replaced it with another one which is huge and has huge teeth and I'm frightened it'll eat me. It's so deep that if you drop a rubbish bag down it you wait for several seconds to hear the splash.

Tim Leatherbarrow said...

What has happened here to the lovely Cathy is that the council have very kindly supplied her with a non recycleable cartoonist bin. As i haven't been supplied by Warrington crumbling council with one, so i don't know what colour bin this would be ,this is either due to lack of finances or they don't consider me a cartoonist, so i'll just get dumped in the grey bin, and we all know what goes in the grey bin. And the advice from Kev about Binifresh wont cover up the contents of our grey bin.

Cathy said...

My bin's grey, too, Oh Tim of Mine! And I could never get anywhere near you when it comes to the 'Paint a Pinny' Championships - I can always recognise genius when I see it. xxxxxx