The Art Of Jizz On the Recycle Bin Handle

Garbage Eve!

We put out our green container for our yard trimmings and "green" waste. We put out our blue container for our paper, plastic and metal waste. And we put out our gray container for our "garbage" that includes pet waste.

I sometimes get up early on Garbage Day just to watch out the window in my office. The tiny Asian women come with their plastic sacks looking for coke cans, empty bottles, and such to take to the recycle place in town. They make numerous trips from the street to take their cans to their Mercedes parked around the corner. I sometimes tell them to stop, but usually not. Once it's on the street, it no longer is my property. Now it could be argued that it should belong to the recycle people, but frankly, maybe the Asian ladies need it. In fact, the police can come and search your garbage without a warrant after you put it on the curb for pick up.

I have a neighbor. He comes out early in the morning in his underpants and a tee shirt and opens all of my garbage cans. He then throws whatever excess "green waste" he has into our garbage can. I don't really care about that either, particularly since he has lost a few pounds. The only thing is, he also peers into our other two garbage cans which seems weird to me. It's not a big deal, but it seems a little nosy or something. I mean the dildo is technically plastic but what business is it of his?

What I am not too crazy about is that he then proceeds to move the 3 trash containers into a position right in front of our driveway. This means that in order to get in or out of our driveway, we have to get out of the car and move the cans. This pattern has been going on for 10 years or so now, so I really should be used to it.

Tonight Alex took out the trash containers to the curb. He was chortling when he came in the house and I asked "what's so funny?". Alex replied "I put jizz on the green recycle bin handle". Excuse me, "jizz?". I was a little dumbstruck wondering what the hell he was talking about. Was he out getting amorous on the trashcan handle in the backyard? Gadzooks, I hoped it had not come (no pun intended) to that.

Then Alex told me he had put Honey and Harry's cream rinse on the handles. When my neighbor moves our cans tomorrow, he's in for a slightly white sticky surprise. Oh this is disgusting.

But I love it!

The Trouble With Charity

This is a photo of Charity Hodges.

I really can imagine that this girl could be trouble. But that's not what this post is about at all. Actually, I have no idea who Charity Hodges is, but she certainly is pretty and rather perky too.

The kind of charity I am referring to is more of the lower case type. We have several charities that we contribute to on a monthly basis. Now, don't get me wrong, it's not part of the Christian Children's Fund. I strongly believe a contribution to "Planned Parenthood" would do more good than many other gifts.

We contribute to the Red Cross. We also contribute to the United Fund. Then there's the ASPCA and the East Bay SPCA.

Then there are the "causes" that show up at your front door. "Save the Whales", or "Help me get rid of my crack ho hairdo" and such. I may hand them a $5.00 bill just hoping they will go away. Sometimes they do.

Sometimes I have to get the dogs to get rid of them. Seems the young people with a clipboard actually want me to solve the problem of world hunger by ordering a bunch of magazines from them. This is where snarling beasts come in handy. Both Honey and Harry know a hand command to show their teeth. And they do it on cue! Smart dogs.

We also get missionaries who come to the door from time to time. I like those guys. Mormons come in a well dressed and smiling set. They are nice and don't ask me for money. If it's hot, I give them ice water. Jehovah's Witness sometimes come in a crowd of people. They are nice too and want to give me their magazine. Nobody asks for money. These people just want to save me. I don't get saved but I don't give them money either.

I got a little off track here. We were discussing charities. Every charity I give a monthly gift to contacts me at least four times a year asking for additional help. Excuse me? We give away a good amount of money to you guys year in and year out. Now you want more? That annoys me. Be grateful and leave me alone.

John McCain wanted money from me when he ran for President. I gave money to Obama instead. Then Obama kept emailing me asking for more money. Since I am a registered Republican, all the Republican candidates ask me for money. Now, the Democrats ask me for money too.

I think I'd rather just give some money to Charity Hodges.

Cali Style

This is Giselle.

She lives here in Alameda. We encountered Giselle and her owner today at the Park Street Art and Wine Festival. When I first saw Giselle, I thought the glass of wine I had was giving me a vivid hallucination.

I think I said "Oh Wow! Alex look at this pup!" I was not really praising the little critter, but it was kind of like the lady we saw today with the purple hair, tattoos on her arms and legs, daisy dukes shorts, and high, high heels with the untethered 50 inch breasts. You do have to say "Goodness me! Would you look at that!" But that's not to say that I would dress like her. (And it's not to say I have any 50 inch breasts either.)

There is something that bothers me about dogs wearing sunglasses. It just looks wrong. Giselle was also wearing an Oakland Raiders jersey. She is a little black dog and it was a hot day (maybe 68 degrees). She did not need a jersey. (Conversely, the purple haired lady with the 50 inch jugs did need a bra.)

I suppose taking your dog to a fair in a baby carriage makes sense on some level. There are a lot of dogs there and a tiny one like Giselle could be devoured in one gulp by any average sized dog since she weights maybe 3 pounds dripping wet.

My dogs are big. Harry and Honey do not attend fairs or festivals. They are inclined to be obnoxious toward little "slipper-shoe" dogs. Also, I don't like crowds and I think it's too much stimulation for the dogs. People walk up to Harry and want to pet him. People cross the street to avoid Honey. And it's difficult to get through crowds with big dogs who are trying to grab ears of corn out of kids' hands.

Honey and Harry are not big on wine or art either for that matter. They are better off staying in their home, taking a nap, and warning off potential thieves and troublemakers with their size, ferocious growls and barks. Neither of them wears sunglasses.

Little Giselle doesn't make a sound. She looks like a toy. I doubt she would ever frighten any critter.

But she is pretty and isn't that what California is all about?