Hey, Garbage!
Yeah, you there, sitting in that alleyway inside that trashcan with all those flies buzzing around you. Yes, I'm talking to you! Do you see anything else around here that matches such a vivid description?
Well, I'm here to tell you something, Garbage: You stink! You hear me? Stink!
Lemme tell you a thing or two, Garbage. You're worthless and nobody wants you around. Except for insects and scabby, scavenging dogs whom I've seen feasting on conspicuously contoured mounds of vomit sitting starkly against the alleyway asphalt. I wouldn't put any stock in those dogs being the finest judges of anything. I mean, they eat vomit. They're idiots like you, Garbage.
I see and speak to a lot of garbage in my travels, and I can honestly say that you're the least dynamic garbage I ever saw.
Take a good, hard look at yourself, Garbage, and clean up your act. You're filthy! A mess!
What is that buried beneath your surface of banana peel and used tissues? Is that spaghetti? And supermarket receipts?! God you're gross. I wouldn't rifle through your filth if I knew there was a hundred dollar bill somewhere within you, most likely floating in the dank, vinegary juice at the bottom of the can.
I'm only rifling through you at the present time because I heard from a trusted source (a wino that lives in a hollowed-out bollard a few alleys over) that there might have been an unclaimed scratch-card of an unverified amount somewhere within your disgusting mass. So don't flatter yourself, you filthy pig! I'm here to get paid.
How do you live in an alleyway that is frequently used for both micturating and defecating and still be the vilest, worst smelling thing in the immediate vicinity? I'd tell you to take a shower, Garbage, but it's a little too late for that now. You know what you'd smell like if you showered? Wet garbage. And we all know wetness intensifies bad smells. For example: wet dog smell, wet fart smell and the odious odor of a stagnant body of water.
I see and speak to a lot of garbage in my travels, and I can honestly say that you're the least dynamic garbage I ever saw. I've met garbage that was ten times the garbage you are, and now it's all gone, tossed away like most kinds of trash, but a no-hoper, a dropkick like you is still here, taking up valuable alleyway space. It just doesn't make sense to me sometimes.
How do you even live with yourself?
Seriously, you disgust me. Just the up-close sight, smell, feel and taste of you makes me want to hurl. If I blew chunks on you right now it probably wouldn't make a shred of difference. In fact it might even do you some good. My vomit is a gentler-, softer-smelling vomit than most due to a floral stomach yeast I've been trying to kick for a good long while, which in turn might help mask some of your other putrid odors. But the truth is, Garbage, I wouldn't vomit on you to put out a small, chunky-puddle-sized fire. You're just not worth the effort of sticking two fingers down my throat and bending over.
I bet your mother is really disappointed to know her spawn is just a quivering mass of hot garbage. And not hot as in sexy. I mean hot as in steaming and festering like compost or dog shit on an unbearably humid day: that's you. That's you in spades, Garbage.
Wait! I think I've found the scratch-ticket! No, it was just a sample perfume card, which is now utterly useless thanks to you, you worthless piece of… of… gar-BAGE!
huff! … huff! …
Garbage. I feel like we got off to on the wrong foot, but let's get back on track: you'll never amount to anything. You're just going to be thrown on a mountain of your own fetid, decomposing brethren for squawking shit-birds to pick at, which I for one take great solace in.
But I think there's a lesson to be learned from all this, Garbage. It's that when life deals you a crummy hand, you can always take comfort in the fact that at least your not garbage. Well, you can't, but the rest of us can.
(I bet you feel pretty bad for Garbage right now, don't you? The truth of the matter is, most folks treat their garbage like utter crap. I hope this has opened your eyes a little and you'll treat your own garbage a little kinder in future. Not me though, I still hate garbage, and berate it both publicly and privately whenever I can.)