So feeling extraordinarily eleemosynary this morning, I decided to take a pair of plastic grocery bags along with me for my morning constitutional, figuring I would polish my halo by picking up the litter that has bugged me the past month during my walks down the Main Street of the village to the town beach and back.
I thought I would deliver this partial census of what I found:
- Six empty plastic “nips” of booze ranging from Jim Beam to some strange orange flavored schnapps
- Three empty cigarette packages, including one Virginia Slims
- Four beer cans
- A torn thong. White. Lace. Victoria’s Secret. Medium.
- One bag of dog feces nearly tied but discarded in hopes someone else would dispose of it
- On the lawn of the parsonage, a “40” half filled with “High Gravity” malt liquor (I assume it is malt liquor).
This collection was awesome in its pure evil. I immediately washed my hands.
Your blog is the only stuff I read where I have to look up words.
And I hope you soaked your hands in rubbing alcohol or gasoline as well. Yuk.
I’ll admit it. I had to look up eleemosynary. For those of you who aren’t as smart as our DC, here’s what it means:
beneficent: generous in assistance to the poor; “a benevolent contributor”; “eleemosynary relief”; “philanthropic contributions”
It isn’t easy being sesquepedalian.
Not sure what is attached to that “bumper” but it almost looks like it was set up to be a Molotov cocktail, which makes this set of stuff even more eviler.
Did the thong have “Reel-Time.com” imprinted on the front?
Next time along with bags, may I suggest toting along a small bottle of hand sanitizer?
Heck, I’m applying some prodigally after reading said post.
The molotov wick is indeed the thong. Hand sanitizer is a capital idea for future roadside scavenging. Also thinking day-glo green SHERIFF jumpsuit and stick with a nail in it for the full road gang look.
Sharon took a couple of trash-picking walks today and trumped your nip bottle count with twenty-four and a number of uninventoried larger hootch containers. She is convinced that Barnstable is the nip bottle capital of the world.
Oh my god, total ick, I see it now.
But, for the record, how cool would it be if you were into that type of thing, to use thongs as a wicks for your molotov cocktails, you could call them “thong tails”.
you drank the High Gravity, though, right? after washing up?
Well done,
I often get the urge to pick up litter but stop myself when I realise that it would be a never-ending task.
My pet hate (pun intended) are those plastic bags of dog poo (faeces to you).
What do these dog owners think they are doing? Preserving the stuff for posterity?
If they can’t be bothered to dispose of it properly wouldn’t it be better just to leave it to decompose naturally, or be spread by the soles of someone else’s shoes?
Does Fisher still wear the ‘Ouchy the Clown’ thong?
I’ve neglected dog poop bags before. I want to follow the law and scoop up the poop, but I don’t want to tote it for mile(s). I’ll leave the bag curb-side intending to pick it up on the return trip. Then the dog decides to return a different route and the bag is not retrieved.
I wouldn’t mind leaving it to decompose, but some overly green lawns don’t appreciate brown spots.