Bin Strike Could Clear Streets Of Rubbish

A STRIKE by Britain’s binmen could force rubbish to stay in neat piles
instead of being flung all over the place willy-nilly,
it was claimed last night.

As unions ballot their members on industrial action, the country is bracing itself for months of unblemished streets and hedges as binmen set up litter-strewn picket lines and stand around braziers that have to be exactly the right colour or they can’t go near them.

The strike ballot was organised after council bosses tried to enforce
new regulations that would have limited binmen to causing a maximum of
12 serious biological hazards per shift.

A Unison spokesman said: “Restricting a a highly-qualified binman to a dozen disease-spreading incidents a day is like asking a bird not to fly.”

In an echo of 1978 Britain is facing a new ‘Winter of Discontent’ with families having to toss manky, fungus-covered tangerines and rancid pork chops over their own
driveways, or be forced to hire a team of private seagulls at £75 an
hour.

Meanwhile binologist Wayne Hayes warned that unless the dispute is resolved, millions of people will no longer know what brand of condoms their neighbour is using or be able to wonder why the condom was that unusual colour and what it was doing in a freezer bag.

He added: “If everyone’s life isn’t festooning the pavement like some rotting Christmas decoration we could be facing a winter of minding your own fucking business.”

Marriage provides great opportunity to ditch annoying friends

GETTING married provides an excellent excuse to deliberately lose touch with your more tiresome friends, according to new data.

Researchers found that 88% of newlyweds regularly turn down social invitations under the pretence their partner would go mental.

Julian Cook, from Reading University, said: “Most of us enter matrimony with at least three friends with whom, if we’re honest, we no longer have anything in common.

“This could be the archetypal ‘funny guy’ whose lager advert-based wacky antics became wearing in the middle of freshers’ week, or perhaps someone like my former faculty colleague Tom, whose many frustrations have made him into a bitter, lonely racist who eats cereal for his tea.”

Married men often dodge social opportunities with an exaggerated, eye-rolling reference to ‘her upstairs’ or being ‘under the cosh’.

New husband, Martin Bishop, said: “Despite actually quite liking my wife, when needs be I turn her into a 70s sitcom-style rolling pin-wielding harridan in some sort of Nora Battey-esque dinner lady getup.

“This is particularly the case when I bump into someone who was a vague acquaintance at school, but who now appears to think we were blood brothers who must renew our bond over a lengthy, expensive and awkward midweek drinking session.”

Wife and mother-of-two, Emma Bradford, added: “I avoided a hen weekend in Norway by saying my husband gets ferociously jealous and doesn’t trust me going out.

“Actually he’s not even slightly ferocious and has had no interest in me since the new Medal of Honour came out. But I couldn’t be bothered to listen to Sarah McKenzie going on abut her boob job while someone called ‘Stallion’ waves his flaccid, Ronseal-coated penis in my miserable face.”