Trash Talk

There's just no pleasing some people. My strict policy of laissez-faire home economics was called into question today by She With the Clenched Butt Cheeks.

Clenched Butt Cheek Woman: Um, Phil? Phil: ....

A minute later

Phil: Oh, did you say my name? CBCW: Yeah. Phil: What's up? CBCW: Could you take out the trash sometime? I mean, I find nine out of ten times that I take it out. Phil: Fascinating.

I wonder if it's maybe because she never seems to be around when I take out the trash? Given my status as "paying renter" here, I never really feel the need to call attention to myself when I take out the trash. Now that I think about it, though, maybe I should. Then I could write little notes that say "Hey look! I took out the trash! I'm so proud of myself, and I think you should be too!"

It seems that, these last few weeks, I've become something of a genius when it comes to the house here. Without trying, it seems, I've managed to throw things away only when the trash isn't entirely full. I don't actually produce all that much in the way of trash. When I lived alone, I only needed to take the trash out ever week to two weeks. Here, my constipated roommate's trash needs to be taken out oh, probably every three days or so. So when you think about it, it's really quite justified that the one who is responsible for 90% of the trash should be taking it out 9 out of 10 times. And heck, the complaint is quite unfounded, as the trash is by the door, which is in turn only a few paces away from the big bin outside. And, given all the shit I have to put up with around here, why not grant myself a few perks? It's totally worth it.