My, aren’t garbage collectors getting choosy. First off, they aren’t garbage collectors. They are refuse redistibutors. No, no, you are a damn garbage collector. That’s stinking garbage you’re throwing in the truck. It ain’t perfume and roses, it’s garbage.

Used to be they’d go back behind the garage and carry the cans around, dump them and carry the cans back, tossing against the garage. That was a thousand years ago. Then they decided you should carry the smelly cans around. There you are carrying the can around, slopping garbage on the driveway and yourself. You had to hose off before the Mrs would let you back in the house.

In those days, your neighbors didn’t really know much about your garbage. All they saw was a can. Was it full? Partly full? Now they just count the bags and the number of bags corresponds to your, uh, well, damn, I lost my train of thought there.

Now you have to separate the soda cans for recycling. You’d think you’d get the money but don't be stupid. The garbagemen collect all the cans, throw them in the follow-up car and keep the money.

What’s next? Do we have to take the bags out and throw them in the truck? (Remember to throw the soda cans in the follow-up car) Are we to take the garbage to the dump-er- landfill, uh, whatever they call it now. It’s still a rat haven. We used to set the dump on fire to watch the little bastards running around and-

The garbagemen say, “Would you do this job?”. No, I wouldn’t.

The real question is, “Why the Hell do you do it?”