It's time to remember "What we used to do!"

And that's another thing! All these different bins for different stuff ( we've got four! ). Much to the missus' chagrin I just chuck owt into any bin I fancy.... I do not give f*** I'm not doing the job what they are paid handsomely ( council tax ) to do. Maybe that's why they got upset! It's like a customer turning up at our works to collect summat, and being told by the fork lift guy that the truck is over there; help yourself.

 

We used to block the end with a potato. It certainly improved the crackle when you'd cleaned the exhaust.

 

Councils only like to sort and collect stuff they can sell...

 

That just reminded me of the time we shoved a potato up my mates car exhaust without him knowing, it was an Austin Metro, when he drove off it got to the bottom of the street,stalled, restarted then gave a huge backfire,shooting the spud back up the street!,dont think it ever ran right after that!

 

Really?? Lol!! All this 'saving the planet' crapola gets right up my shonk! F*** the planet, it doesn't want saving from us - it could shrug us off as effortlessy as a dog despatching a few irritating fleas.

 

Reminds me of the American Forces research during WW2.

With all the beach landings that the US Marines were making on the small Pacific islands, a lot of the troops finished up with sea-anemone spines in their bodies which became infected, so the US Army carried out some research to discover what the locals did.

Apparently the locals used your Dad's method of treatment and peed over the places where the spines had been. The uric acid sanitised the area and also helped to dissolve any bits of the spines that were embedded in the flesh.

The US Army reeled away in horror and relied on science to solve the problem. They carried out many experiments before issuing the troops with small bottles of sterilised urine; with an explanation of what it contained so that the troops knew what to do if they ever ran out.

BTW, please don't try and shake hands with me if we ever meet!

 

What! These are cured hands!

 

Not from me! In Germany even the people who stay overnight on a caravan site have to separate their waste into:

• Plastics.
• Paper and cardboard.
• Metal.
• Food stuffs.

It ain't easy when you are touring in a small motorhome; but it's "doable" because you have to!

BTW, with regard to "Litter" the idiots that make my blood boil are the ones that can carry a six-pack full of beer to the top of a mountain, but then can't carry the empty cans back down again!

 

Huh?? Why would they - the can is only a vehicle for the contents, why bother lugging it back down again once you've consumed it? Puzzled...

 

Easy, if they have the energy to carry a FULL can of beer (or cola or any other bottled or canned drink) to the top of a mountain, then surely they can hump the EMPTY ones to somewhere with a Litter Bin? (Litter Bins being in short supply on the tops of most mountains.)

 

When I was a kid I had for various reasons go on very long and arduous treks, and to toughen up my feet I used to wipe methylated spirits on the soles and anywhere that might rub. After a few applications it really hardeneded up the skin, but I wouldn't recommend it now due to semll and flammability!

Regarding the bin men.... yes they used to take everything, and come down the side of your house to collect it and replace the bins........ However!
In Wandsworth being a bin man was very lucrative, and you had to be a member of one family to get in. They also used to turn up at chistmas for their "present" so you paid council rates and more for their services. When the changes were coming in in the late 70's, they didn't like the new contracts and went on strike, and we had the rubbish dumps piling up in the street! They were awful, and stank to high heaven and were a public hazard. When they went back to work, they really coudn't be arsed, and disability claims and sccident claims went through the roof! My father's house was being underpinned down one side at the time, and lo and behold, despite huge signs and barriers saying, "danger, do not enter, do not step on" one of them claimed to fall and injure his back and be unable to work and was going to sue etc...... That went precisely nowhere of course.
Now it seems like the waste business goes through cycles. At times the companies are paid adequately, and thier workers do a decent job. then the council will drop the contract price, or go with someone cheaper, and the service gets worse as a result. Then after a year or two of complaint they decide to pay more money and the service gets better again.

 

My grandfather was a bin man, he died in 1962, before I was born,so I only ever new him from some old photos, he was also a first world war veteran,again old photos in his uniform with service stripes and wound stripe on the sleeves, a few years ago I was working in an old chaps bungalow,when I asked what job he'd worked at he said he was a bin man all his life ,"my grandad was a bin man",I told him, when I told him his name, the old chap described his appearance and told me he'd worked with him,on the same wagon when he'd(the old chap) first started in the late 1940's!"he was a great bloke, straightforward,he never let anyone put on us young uns"was how he described him.It made me feel proud .He also told me"Them bloody bins full of ash were heavy tho" . Just thought I'd share that, no real reason other than all the talk of binmen made me think of me owd grandad.

 

So, is your skin also in beautiful condition????

 

Er ... I don't think I look my age, but then again I'm not stupid enough to ask "Do you know how old I am?" in case I get the wrong answer!

Plus, lemons were a rarity in our house and never used as a beauty treatment.

A single orange in my Christmas Stocking was the limit of foreign fruit that I saw as a child; and I had to go out and steal (aka "scrump") or forage for any other fruit that I wanted to eat. i.e. apples, pears, damsons, cherries, plums, strawberries, pig-nuts, raspberries etc.

One highlight of my childhood was when my Mum gave me a small poke of sugar knowing that I would sneak into a neighbour's rhubarb patch and hide under the leaves. Rhubarb never tasted so good, despite the severe dose of stomach ache and the trots that followed.

 

Historical types think it's great when they find artefacts of past civilisations. So think about future ones after ours has gone the way they all do, and leave something for them to marvel and ponder over, like empty Boddingtons cans.