Offal I Can't Refuse

The news this week is brought to you by Sara over at Lovely Listing. Only not really. Not in the sense that she gave me any money, or asked me to mention her, or even knows who I am or has ever read The House and I. For all I know, she’s a member of some vast right-wing conspiracy and wishes I would go step on more frogs so she can out me for the plague-wrecker I am. But she’s my new favorite blog, so I’ll talk about her till they come make me stop!

See, what she does, is: she takes photos from real estate listings -- really ridiculous photos of strange rooms and odd angles -- and gives them these little captions that make you laugh and laugh. Go there! Now! Look! Read!

(For future reference, she is in my blogroll under the name “My Listing-Lover.”)

(For past and present reference, those of you who’ve been in my blogroll for a while, you are now all called “My Something-Lovers.”)

(For search-engine reference: this is not a sex thing – although I wouldn’t mind a couple thousand of those porny hits.)

Now, on to the news of the week:

I know it will shock you to discover that I'm featuring an item this week that affects only me – well, me and 54,000 other folks, but I don’t give a holy hoo about any of them. It comes from Sunday’s Boston Globe, the South Shore Section, and there is no link. I had to type this. So I took the liberty of adding editorial comments. I also re-paragraphed it a little to make it easier to read in this format. Here goes:

TOWNVILLE [where I live] —

Residents don’t have to sort their recycling anymore. [can I have a HOLLA!!]. Glass, plastic, cans, paper, and cardboard can all go in the same recycling container [I’d throw in that final comma, too, but that’s just me]. And residents no longer need to use a special recycling container, but can throw everything in a regular trash barrel [oh my god, I think I’m hyperventilating], which they mark with a recycling label provided by the Department of Public Works [oh, crap, so I can’t just chuck it in the bin with the regular trash? Balls].

The change to “single stream” recycling [meaning: we take it down the road and dump it in the River, so why get your hands dirty?] started this month when the town switched its waste disposal contractor to Capitol Waste Services for curbside collection [why not Capital Waste Services, I wonder? Ah well, if anybody googles them and finds anything bad, I don’t want to know about it. Hear?].

“We anticipate increased recycling [erm, you mean I could have been not doing it all along, using sorting as an excuse? Balls!] and increased recycling revenue [lemme hear you say “tax cut!” and then we’ll talk], just because this is easier [you know what would have been really easy? A little notice in the mail, or a door tag, or something. Who the hell reads the Globe South section? Besides me, I mean.],” said DPW director Robert O’Connor.

Among the items that can’t be recycled through the program are plastic bags, fabric, foam packaging and Styrofoam, aerosol cans, and food waste [so what you’re saying is: you haven’t invented any new technologies or anything. Got it. But, um, while we’re at it, can we get a ruling on used tin foil? It’s been a point of contention at the AssVac for a while.]. More information [blah, blah, blah]…

Okay, this is me again. And you might want to stand back and block your ears, people, because I’m fixin’ to shout…

I DON’T HAVE TO SORT MY RECYCLING ANYMORE!!!!!!!!!!!

This doesn’t change much in terms of my actual daily life, of course. I may not have to separate the paper from the cans, but I do still have to pick out the stryofoam when Johnny throws it in there (and maybe used tin foil), and I do still have to keep it all apart from the cigarette butts and the cat poo. Although you really ought to be able to recycle cat poo, don’t you think? I know a dog or two who have a few ideas in this department, if the DPW is interested…

But if you’ve known me for a while, you know how much I hate recycling. (Don’t remember? You can read an oldy but particularly Goody post right here.) I hate it, hate it, hate it, hate it, hate it, hate it, hate it, so every little bit of my not having to do it counts. In fact, I’m having tiny little lazy-orgasms right now, just at the idea that I could go get a Rubbermaid-type bin with a decent lid to keep the rain out, slap one of those whatchacallit stickers on it, keep it outside with the regular trash barrels, and never again have to keep two weeks’ worth of trash inside my house!

I think I need a tiny little cigarette.

Of course, though, that would mean walking outside with every box and can, instead of just to the back hall. Which would probably mean some sort of temporary transfer bin. Which would inevitably become my job to empty. Just like the disgusting, smelly, fruit-fly-laden compost guck. Which was also decidedly not my bright idea. And for which I’ve also been scolded (I throw eggshells in the trash can, so?). And which I therefore also hate.

Hey, Capitol Waste Services! Can we get a ruling on the worm-food? Preferably before Johnny and I turn each other into it?

Thanks so much!


Happy News Tuesday, everybody!