Bin Laden

This just in: My wife has found a way to exact her revenge for my stubborn stance on the raincoat issue. This brand-new game needs a catchy name and I’m leaning towards “Passive Bin Emptying” at the moment. The ‘passive’ part stems from the fact that it’s an activity that detrimentally affects me through no choice of my own. Well, that’s not entirely true. I suppose could try being less anal about this sort of thing, but then I just wouldn’t be ME, would I?

Where was I? Ah yes, bin games. Perhaps I should first explain that we have an arrangement that Mrs Kyknoord and I take turns to empty the kitchen bin. If I emptied it last, then she is supposed to empty it when it fills up again. Simple? One would think so.

My dear spouse has discovered what she believes is a technical loophole in this agreement (and has actually turned out to be a de facto bloody loophole, in reality). Essentially, she has concluded that if the bin never fills up, then she never has to empty it. Consequently, once the bin reaches the ‘full to overflowing’ stage, she starts decanting the things on top into an auxiliary bin (i.e. plastic bag off to the side). Once the auxiliary bin is full, she augments it with a second auxiliary bin. She repeats this process until someone trips over auxiliary bin number three and says, “Oh for fuck’s sake, I’ll empty the bollocking bin!” Who could that be, I wonder?

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18 thoughts on “Bin Laden

  1. erm, what about taking the trash out on your way to work in the morning? that’s what i do; no bin required.

    one plastic bag a day, @ 18c a bag, and as i walk out in the morning, i take it with a dump it in the communal bins downstairs.

    if all else fails, dump the bag on her car. she’ll soon get the picture.

    p.s. bins cause smelly smells which leads to smelly apartments which attract smelly flies…ok, last smelly wasn’t needed.

    happy bin laden playing…

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  2. Hee. It may be a pain in the ass, but at least you can brag that you are married to a genius. (I almost left the ‘u’ out of genius. What a funny word to misspell.)

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  3. I once had a roommate whose answer to the dilemma was to put the bin on my bed. ‘Course that wouldn’t work so well for the marital bed. Back to the drawing board.

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  4. So here you are! Good to ‘see’ you

    Nice blog as usual :!) Just take out the bags – it’s the MANS job LOL

    Cheers
    Albie

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  5. There are wimmin [sic] jobs which are to date unspecified and there are VERY specific OKE jobs – taking out the trash falls into latter category. Gotta hand it to Mrs KN – you go gal! Hehe

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  6. I’m SERIOUSLY impressed with Mrs. K! She’s my new hero.

    Something similar to the putting the bin on the roommate’s bed…when I was younger, my dad HATED to see dirty clothes on the floor so he would come in my room whenever I wasn’t in it and pick up all the clothes on my floor and put them on my bed. I tried and tried to tell him what a waste of time it was because they were just going to end up back on the floor when I wanted to get into the bed and then he’d have to do it all over again but he never complained. Just threw all those damn clothes on my bed. And the only thing I learned…if it was REALLY dirty, like sweaty or actual physical visible DIRT, don’t put that shit on the floor.

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  7. anne: Absolutely. A master of the art.

    jessafran: Bollocking is derived from ‘bollocks’, which is slang for testicles. It is a synonym for ‘fucking’, but is far more satisfying to use alliteratively with the words ‘bin’, ‘Barney’ and so forth.

    eKapa: The emptying is a very minor chore and I really don’t mind doing it. I just hate having to pick up the slack when my wife is being a lazy cow and revelling in the fact that she’s being a lazy cow.

    ZG: You called it, Zubegirl. Actually, if you left out the ‘i’, it would still make sense, because sometimes I think my wife is a different breed altogether.

    andrea: Hmmm. She does go to bed earlier than me…

    Chitty: One has to give credit where it is due. The gravitational pull of the old MILstone is unmistakable.

    Albie: Howzit, dude. Good to ‘see’ you again. ‘Man’s job’ indeed! Trust me, you don’t need a Y-chromosome to handle this task.

    bee: Et tu, bee? That just makes me sic (sic).

    Anduin: And that makes three, so it must it be true [sound of noose tightening]. And what’s with that crack about smelly underwear?

    Paintingchef: She knows her stuff, does the missus. Actually, I wouldn’t mind being the cleaning lady so much, if I got paid more. Or anything, for that matter.

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  8. Sorry Mr KN – I have truly pushed the envelope and now you’ve gone and inspired me to write an entire post about wimmin’s work (no sic) vs men’s work (v sic). Hehe. Don’t worry though it’s all above board and A rated.

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  9. She’s crafty, I’ll say that much! =) You, of course, I feel so awful for {snicker} you and truly feel {heehee} your pain. There, there now, things {harharhar! SNORT!} will be fine…

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  10. Thanx to Bee’s recommendation (am I allowed to call her that d’you think, not knowing her personally?) I came and read your blog and gave myself an asthma attack when I laughed at the last three lines! love your site!

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