Takin' out the trash

Brilliant idea to clean interior of sadly neglected, completely disgusting interior of huge green trash can:

swap out your with your neighbors, the real Neat Freak ones!

Genius!

I nearly broke my arm patting myself on the back. Sadly, I had this brilliant idea, just shy of the time they got home. Verifying their's had no identifying marks (mine doesn't, unless you count the smell) I'd nipped under the hood, if you will, to admire a can so clean I swooned . Reaching out to ever so casually, so as to not arouse any notice, for the handle -

The bastards arrived home.

That's right.

Another great idea botched by the arrival of the damn owners.

Instead, I was left doing it the old fashioned way: drag can closer to house, but not so close that the aroma of smushed Duty Bags, Rotted Whatnot, along with Unidentifiable Ickiness leaked into the garage, to sneak into the house. Dragged hose out of garage, far, far away from car, as windows were in the down position (the better to load up with misquito's that'll lay in wait for me in the am) flipped can onto side, applied spray.

Gagged.

Yanked bottom of new suit down, discovering (thank you Fox for pointing it out) that the flirty skirt of this one? Quite a bit shorter than the other one. Still a Mom Suit, as no bits escape to be seen, but the backside, only on the left, does tend to travel northward at any given moment.

What a classy picture this made: mom in black and white, strapless bathing costume, bent nearly double, gagging, rinsing out what I can only classify as true garbage.

Perhaps, because it was.

Turn can upright, (re-adjust bottoms, again) add copious amounts of soap - I do quite prefer that Method Grapefruit Soap - it's pink, smells fabulous, and kills the odor of just about anything! Washing out our can is the real test of any soap.

For good measure, used an entire bottle of Natural Cleansing and Sterilizing Agent: white vinegar. Add more water.

Note to self: do not fill can higher than half shin height, because you won't be able to heave the fucking can onto it's side, to empty water.

Look especially classless while bending over to pick up the papery bits, plastic juice bag straws, and that one catalogue nearly glued to the bottom of can, only after finishing, realize that the neighbors across the street had the best view of flirty skirted new suit.

And the big ol' ass it hangs on.

Moral of today's adventure?

Utilize brilliant idea next week, say, in the middle of the afternoon. While most folks, (these one's in particular) are at bridge. Or whatever it is that old people do.

Or, I suppose, I could simply enjoy my clean can - not that I swooned at cleanliness; more like swooned from both fatigue and horror - at least until next week.

When something else will leak through the bags, Pucker's copious additions may stick to the side, or some other horror will need discarding.

In which case?

I'm going back to plan A.