garbage on the run

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caddy79
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Post March 8th, 2012, 1:50 am

This morning was garbage day,I was sleeping in ,heard the truck outside and grabbed my robe,hair up in curlers,and slipped on hubby's old tennis shoes,grabbed the garbage,just as i got out the door they went down the street,I go running after it and they stopped.I yelled ,"AM I TOO LATE FOR THE GARBAGE ?" The driver said "NO MAM JUMP RIGHT IN " :angry: :( :cray:
J/K LOL
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AussieAl
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Post March 8th, 2012, 6:35 am

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I recently asked a friend, 'Has your son decided what he wants to be when he grows up?'

'Yes, he wants to be a garbage collector', my friend replied.

I had to think about that one for a moment. 'That's a rather strange ambition to have for a career,' I finally managed to reply.

'Well,' said the boy's father, 'he thinks that garbage collectors only work on Tuesdays'.
Al. :drinks:
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ChevyTech
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Post March 8th, 2012, 6:46 am

A Teacher, A Garbage Collector, And A Lawyer at Heaven

Recently a teacher, a garbage collector, and a lawyer wound up together at the Pearly gates. St. Peter informed them that in order to get into Heaven, they would each have to answer one question.

St. Peter addressed the teacher and asked, “What was the name of the ship that crashed into the iceberg? They just made a movie about it.”

The teacher answered quickly, “That would be Titanic.”

St. Peter let him through the gate.

St. Peter turned to the garbage man and, figuring Heaven didn’t really need all the odors that this guy would bring with him, decided to make the question a little harder: “How many people died on the ship?”

Fortunately for him, the trash man had just seen the movie and answered, “about 1,500.”

“That’s right! You may enter.”

St. Peter then turned to the lawyer. “Name them.”
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AussieAl
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Post March 8th, 2012, 6:49 am

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Al. :drinks:
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AussieAl
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Post March 8th, 2012, 6:52 am

Q: What has four wheels and flies?
A: A garbage truck.
Al. :drinks:
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Kezza
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Post March 10th, 2012, 12:17 am

'The Dolly on the Dustcart' Image

I'm the dolly on the dustcart,
I can see you're not impressed,
I'm fixed above the driver's cab,
With wire across me chest,
The dustman see, he noticed me,
Going in the grinder,
And he fixed me on the lorry,
I dunno if that was kinder.
This used to be a lovely dress,
In pink and pretty shades,
But it's torn now, being on the cart,
And black as the ace of spades,
There's dirt all round me face,
And all across me rosy cheeks,
Well, I've had me head thrown back,
But we ain't had no rain for weeks.
I used to be a 'Mama' doll,
Tipped forward, I'd say, 'Mum'
But the rain got in me squeaker,
And now I been struck dumb,
I had two lovely blue eyes,
But out in the wind and weather,
One's sunk back in me head like,
And one's gone altogether.
I'm not a soft, flesh coloured dolly,
Modern children like so much,
I'm one of those hard old dollies,
What are very cold to touch,
Modern dolly's underwear,
Leaves me a bit nonplussed,
I haven't got a bra,
But then I haven't got a bust!
But I was happy in that doll's house,
I was happy as a Queen,
I never knew that Tiny Tears,
Was coming on the scene,
I heard of dolls with hair that grew,
And I was quite enthralled,
Until I realised my head
Was hard and pink... and bald.
So I travel with the rubbish,
Out of fashion, out of style,
Out of me environment,
For mile after mile,
No longer prized... dustbinised!
Unfeminine, Untidy,
I'm the dolly on the dustcart,
And there's no collection Friday.

A poem by Pam Ayres
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