You think I have to take all the shit in the world. It’s not true. You think you can abuse me, just because you see a ‘use me’ sign. You’re wrong. Throw half a sip of coffee, cigarette ash, black tea, that oily lemon rice you couldn’t swallow, followed by a mixture of bread crumbs and mustard sauce. And expect me to taste the mix. I won’t. No seriously I won’t. I am not meant to take any of that. That’s for the plastic bag that’s inside me. Doesn’t a plastic bag actually deserve that?
On a dustbin
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