5th April 2017
This isn’t the first time, either. I’ve previously had the dubious pleasure of picking up broken glass, a child’s broken scooter, magazines and cigarette packets. And as if this isn’t bad enough, the aforementioned bottles, cans and boxes were, in the majority of cases, no more than 50 yards from a bin. 50 bloody yards. I genuinely don’t understand these people. I can only assume they have brains the size of a Ferrero Rocher (wrapping discarded, obviously).