Wednesday, April 9, 2008

But If I Take The Garbage Out I Might Die And Then You Would Feel Bad

Woohoo! I've probably avoided serious health issues by avoiding taking the garbage out. I've had many housemates who have gotten angry at my inability to get near a sack of rotting leftovers without dry-heaving or getting sick, but it may just be my body's way of self-preservation. From the Guardian:

German scientists are warning householders of the health dangers posed by storing organic waste, saying exposure to it, particularly to the moulds that develop as the material decays, can cause skin problems and even breathing difficulties... "Even just opening the lid of a bin containing organic waste can cause mould spores to be stirred up which, if breathed in, can damage the lungs," said Morr. "The more spores breathed in, the worse the repercussions on one's health can be."

So next time someone tries to get you to take the garbage out tell him or her that he or she is a horrible person for trying to kill you. If that doesn't work, just get near the garbage can and throw up on it and run away crying. Works like a charm.

(creative commons photo attributed to Flickr user Peter Kaminski)


Anonymous said...

I've seen your bathroom.... not too much better...

Anonymous said...

The organic garbage in your kitchen doesn't have a lid on it so every time you walk through the kitchen you're breathing bad spores. It would be better for you to take the garbage out so that it doesn't grow mould while it's still in your living space.
And anyway, you live in the Yucatan and bad mouldy stuff grows everywhere because of the dampness.
You're such a jerk sometimes...

Charlie said...

i am a jerk but my bathroom is spotless. i hold my breath while in the kitchen. that's why everything i "cook" takes less than two minutes to prepare. the toxic molds in my garbage will never get me, though every surface of every object tends to collect mold here, so I should probably try to avoid breathing near or touching anything. Time to find a civilized place to live.

Anonymous said...

At least you don't have a cat box anymore.

Charlie said...

jajaja. yeah, i threw up in the cat box once, too. and cat boxes are really bad for your health, so my body was doing a good job protecting itself back then too

Anonymous said...

Have you never read Silverstein???

Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout
Would not take the garbage out!
She'd scour the pots and scrape the pans,
Candy the yams and spice the hams,
And though her daddy would scream and shout,
She simply would not take the garbage out.
And so it piled up to the ceilings:
Coffee grounds, potato peelings,
Brown bananas, rotten peas,
Chunks of sour cottage cheese.
It filled the can, it covered the floor,
It cracked the window and blocked the door
With bacon rinds and chicken bones,
Drippy ends of ice cream cones,
Prune pits, peach pits, orange peel,
Gloppy glumps of cold oatmeal,
Pizza crusts and withered greens,
Soggy beans and tangerines,
Crusts of black burned buttered toast,
Gristly bits of beefy roasts. . .
The garbage rolled on down the hall,
It raised the roof, it broke the wall. . .
Greasy napkins, cookie crumbs,
Globs of gooey bubble gum,
Cellophane from green baloney,
Rubbery blubbery macaroni,
Peanut butter, caked and dry,
Curdled milk and crusts of pie,
Moldy melons, dried-up mustard,
Eggshells mixed with lemon custard,
Cold french fried and rancid meat,
Yellow lumps of Cream of Wheat.
At last the garbage reached so high
That it finally touched the sky.
And all the neighbors moved away,
And none of her friends would come to play.
And finally Sarah Cynthia Stout said,
"OK, I'll take the garbage out!"
But then, of course, it was too late. . .
The garbage reached across the state,
From New York to the Golden Gate.
And there, in the garbage she did hate,
Poor Sarah met an awful fate,
That I cannot now relate
Because the hour is much too late.
But children, remember Sarah Stout
And always take the garbage out!

Shel Silverstein, 1974

Charlie said...

yes, shel silverstein is great stuff, and I can totally relate to Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout. if i ever made it as a rapper i'd just use his poems with some heavy beats. try to imagine this with one, for example:

Ickle-me pickle-me tickle-me too
went for a ride in a flying shoe
ickle was captain
pickle was crew
tickle served up the mulligan stew
damn, that'd be awesome.