Considerate scum: posh litter...

I find the act of mindless littering foul enough to warrant summary execution so it was with an undiscovered sense of incredulity that earlier today, I happened upon another dire example of our nation's dubious profficiency in the all too copious production of the appalling Shazette model, effecting a peculiar mimic of the classic John Wayne style sauntering swagger forth, swigging the overblown swig of the proletariat with all the usual, unnecessary attitude.

Unable to legally mount the pave and mow her down, I instead observed how the Kappa flew with every movement of clearly imbibed stupor and immediately shed a tear of sorrow for the demise of feudalism, a system which, for wretched vagabonds like this, not to mention society at large, would surely offer a brighter, mutual existence.

I wondered just how Shaz would dispense with her bottle of pop? Cast it over the passing wall to enhance the outdoor aesthetics of some poor sod's front garden, or maybe observe the strict code of conduct which best defines the peasant-bastard's preferred method of fouling Albion's highways and byways, namely, the cheeky 'arms by one's side & let it slowly drop to the floor as you slouch along?'

But no: Shaz was clearly a cut above. In a very slow, deliberate manner, the offending article was hoisted on high and delicately placed ceremoniously atop said wall: now, not in keeping with the precise appearance of the brickwork and grub-spec topiary at hand, it nevertheless hinted at the creativity within, albeit confused but ultimately, it still left one critical and essential question unanswered.

Why, in the name of Achilles' left earlobe, did our Shaz fail to use the hugely confusing litter bin that had, only moments before, been used as a spital recepticle?

Other than her being irretrievable vermin, I'm not entirely sure but I do have a one observation further: in the interests of ameliorating the plight of the impoverished pensioner heating scandals that disgracefully characterise the impending tide of yule, Shaz - and all her friends - could make an invaluable contribution to their local communities by offering themselves up...as solid fuel.

Now then, where did I put that copy of Mein Kampf?

If it didn't physically resemble her house, she probably didn't recognise it was a litter bin...

derestrictor said:

Now then, where did I put that copy of Mein Kampf?

It's on the bedside table, next to your blood pressure tablets...

Hear bloody hear!