zagatoes30
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Oh Lord of the Bin thy monks are in mischievous mood today, normally they collect at the height of the sun but today the little monkeys collected at sunrise, luckily just as I was putting out our offering
And once again, without regard to the whims of man, or the pestilence that ravages the land, the seasons have turned. And the mighty Oak, and the spindly Pine doth drop their leaves and needles, and the shrubberies and the vines doth needs trimming so that the yard and meadow about thine abode doth overflow with waste. Ye and thy neighbors put forth many hours with rake and sickle and trimmer, to beat back the bounteous growth of nature and prepare thy pyre for the autumnal sacrifice. And pyres are lit throughout the shire, so that the burning shall continue both night and day for 7 days. But Thy neighbor, Sir Lazy Dolt, doth build his pyre in singular pile, such that it doth touch the sky, yea verily even to the roof top. And the smoke and flames billow forth from his enthusiasm, such that it attracts the attention of those other monks, the monks of Volunteer Fire Department. And the billowing carries forth a Pox, like unto the clap, such that Thy and thine house suffer rash and blisters and itchings. Yea even unto Thy nether regions. For Thy neighbor, Sir Stupid Dolt, hath once again failed to remove the poisonous ivy from his conflagration. Salutations! and pass the lotion.
And once again, without regard to the whims of man, or the pestilence that ravages the land, the seasons have turned. And the mighty Oak, and the spindly Pine doth drop their leaves and needles, and the shrubberies and the vines doth needs trimming so that the yard and meadow about thine abode doth overflow with waste. Ye and thy neighbors put forth many hours with rake and sickle and trimmer, to beat back the bounteous growth of nature and prepare thy pyre for the autumnal sacrifice. And pyres are lit throughout the shire, so that the burning shall continue both night and day for 7 days. But Thy neighbor, Sir Lazy Dolt, doth build his pyre in singular pile, such that it doth touch the sky, yea verily even to the roof top. And the smoke and flames billow forth from his enthusiasm, such that it attracts the attention of those other monks, the monks of Volunteer Fire Department. And the billowing carries forth a Pox, like unto the clap, such that Thy and thine house suffer rash and blisters and itchings. Yea even unto Thy nether regions. For Thy neighbor, Sir Stupid Dolt, hath once again failed to remove the poisonous ivy from his conflagration. Salutations! and pass the lotion.
Bloom in the valley? Blooming loony, more like.Blessed am I this day, for as I stepped out on a morning peregrination I was greeted by the sight of many of the Monks of St Bin as they diligently performed their stations around the demesne where I do reside.
First were those that ride the chariot of food waste. Noisome indeed, it was this day. The stench of such pungency as to cause Charles M. Schultz to add waving lines and dots in its wake. Yea, verily it was wont to make one gag and retch as if being compelled to watch an episode of 'Strictly come dancing where Dan Walker and Naga Munchetti were partners'
Next the juggernaut of general waste. This announces its presence by the discordant clashing and grinding as it performs its role. Such a racket as to make Joshua and his Israelites set down their trumpets and clasp their hands over their ears in despair! The monks of this wagon perform their duty with much relish, hurling the unfortunate refuse into the ever hungry maw where there is much wailing and grinding of teeth.
Finally the followers of the garden waste. A different breed entirely, carefully taking the clippings and offcuts of the diligent horticulturists of the area and placing them with reverence in their collection vehicle. From thence they will never be seen again, except as the mysterious 'soil improver' the scent of which, compared to the stench of the food wagon, is like unto the lillies that bloom in the valley.
C
Woe is me, for today my offerings of food to the great monks of St Bin hath been refused.
Is it the rotting stench of week old prawns that have caused this oversight or perhaps by missing 1 in 3 offerings the dark monks who flit around at night can be back in their flea bitten hovels before sunrise.
I have penned an ode to the Bin Masters at the mighty castle who control the monks, sadly little response, however they will repay my allegiance by charging more for these services
NahSt Bins day, only 4 more to Christmas best start thinking about the additional offering that is mandatory at this time of year if you want to avoid the Monks spreading your offering all down the driveway and across the road to shame you in front of your neighbours
Nah
My neighbours are old and not able to consume the vast quAntity of illicit spirit
To ease the burden of my indulgence I fill their casket of offerings with the empty receptacles of my indulgence so as not to leave them demoralised
Nah
My neighbours are old and not able to consume the vast quAntity of illicit spirit
To ease the burden of my indulgence I fill their casket of offerings with the empty receptacles of my indulgence so as not to leave them demoralised
It is a worthy duty you complete. Surely you will be admitted entry to the great re-cycling plant
Or damned to forever toil the pestilence and foul stench of the unholy land-fill. May St Bin judge you worthy!
Has’t thou sinned? Was the seasonal offering (Monks’ protection racket) missing?What have I done to offend St. Bin???
He collected all but mine on Monday, and dispite pleading to the Abbey of South Oxfordshire District Council and being assured that my petitions have once more been hear and that he would return by Tuesday lunch time, I had to grovel once more. This time the Lady of The Order of SODC assured me she would formally intercede for me by reporting an "officially missed bin" and that St. Bin would return for my offerings forthwith, he is still yet to come, and my offering is lying dormant on the roadside.
What have I done to offend St. Bin???
He collected all but mine on Monday, and dispite pleading to the Abbey of South Oxfordshire District Council and being assured that my petitions have once more been hear and that he would return by Tuesday lunch time, I had to grovel once more. This time the Lady of The Order of SODC assured me she would formally intercede for me by reporting an "officially missed bin" and that St. Bin would return for my offerings forthwith, he is still yet to come, and my offering is lying dormant on the roadside.
Thou is stepping on an uncertain road, St Bin does not look favourable on the officious management scribes telling him what to do