I'd like, if you'll allow me, to tell a tale about Stirling recycling.

Yes, that's the thing. Except there's no
trolley in this picture. Imagine one.

As I lay down to slumber last night, I was disturbed by one of those noises you've probably read about in the papers. You know, the kind that comes from outside, and probably spells out certain death for you and your loved ones. Anyhow, rising from my bed, I peered out of my window to see if it was a gang of vicious youths or bloodthirsty pensioners, or similar bollocks. Outside, and across the road, a drunken man had found his purpose in life.

          I interrupt the flow of the narrative to explain some incidental details to you, dear reader, that may help set the scene for this little docudrama. Across the road from me is a little recycling point thing. You know the sort of thing? There’re a few bins for different colours of glass, and a big sinister box you can stuff clothes into, and a place for newspapers and so on. You know, the sort of place that quickly gets surrounded by rubbish, and then one day there's a dead hooker dismembered and spread around the place. Probably in the wrong recycling bins? You know the sort of place.

Now, I return you to the tale. The drunk seemed pretty determined to make sure the place was tidied up. Damn hippy. As I mentioned, it was the sort of place that gets messy quickly – one day, the cardboard box is full so someone leaves some empty pizza boxes in the corner, then a pile begins, and soon there’s a mountain of rubbish ruled by rats wearing tiny suits who charge you for safe passage. Now this man, probably offended by the large rates of usury charged by the rats, had set about cleaning the recycling point.

“fuckin’ paper!” I’d hear him yell.

“Get in there! Ya... Rrrh! Bottles!” He would cry triumphantly as he filed items in the right recepticles.

“Come on! Bloody... bloody, boardcar!” He muttered as he cleared the blood-soaked cardboard from around the bins.

I watched him for a while and then, gripped by civil duty, I went to bed.

When I got up this morning, I noticed there's an entire shopping trolley full of recycling dumped in front of the recycling bins. Since it's a mile to the nearest supermarket, and said supermarket has recycling facilities, I'm baffled but impressed by the dedication shown towards recycling by this fine city.


Well, no I'm not. But that's besides the point.