The wages of recycling is mess

Look, the Drunkablog is as ecologically sensitive as the next guy, but he has a problem with recycling--or more precisely, with the way one of his tenants recycles:

"Like a landfill, only porch-sized!"
It gets a little annoying, but the guy's lived here longer than we have. (We bought the place eight years ago; he's lived here for over 12.) He also puts up with the D-blog's landlordial incompetence, so it's like, just don't burn the place down, buddy! Until we tell you to!

And anyway, the Drunkablog himself has finally learned the value of recycling.

Shame revealed

You ever seen those guys who drive around in pickups with four flat tires because they're stacked roof-high with phone books? I hate them. They see a multi-unit dwelling and know they can dump a ton of the things. And guess who recycles them?* Last week was bad. What must have been a regiment of F-150 maurauders deposited these:

This happens every six months or so. Hey, need a Denver phone book? They're free! (Sorry, one per customer. Please add $40 shipping.)

*me.

Update: The little deflated basketball guy has been sitting right there all winter. I don't know where he came from, but if you pick him up he says "From downtown!" or "He shoots! He scores!" in a funny cartoon voice. Freakin' scary. I won't touch the thing anymore.

Update II: The "next guy" link is to a picture of Captain Joseph Hazelwood of the Exxon Valdez. Here's the BBC's weird 1999 story marking the 10-year anniversary of the eponymous disaster.