gor[b] Paul Gorbould: Words and Pictures

Arrrgh!

Damn it!

My wonderful, impregnable, Raccoon Check strap-equipped raccoon-proofed green bin was violated last night.

It seems I didn't cinch up the buckles tight enough, though it certainly looked air tight. The procyon horribilis managed to tip it over and top the top open a crack - enough to fish out a bag of stale bread and coffee rinds and redecorate my porch.

To its credit, though, the strap kept the lid mostly shut, so only one of the five bags inside was ripped open. I'll have to be more careful with keeping it buckled up tight.

This isn't over, vermin.

(The cynic in me expects that one day I'll discover my impish neighbours have read this blog, and are sneaking out at night to open the bins themselves. Actually, that'd be a pretty funny joke. Except that they'd soon discover that raccoons have learned to key their car.)