A cop is sitting in his usual speed trap spot and sees a truck drive by with the back full of penguins. He is understandably perplexed so he pulls the truck over.
"Excuse me sir, but why do you have all those penguins in the back of your truck?"
"I'm sorry officer, but I just don't know what to do with them!"
Incredulous, the officer responds, "take them to the zoo!"
The driver thanks the officer and drives off. The next day the cop is in the same spot and dang-it-all if that same truck doesn't drive by again, but this time the penguins are all wearing sunglasses. The frustrated cop again pulls the truck over.
"I thought I told you to take those penguins to the zoo!"
I love to keep neat and tidy. That's why I love trash bags. I especially love opening a package of trash bags and trying to get one out. Whoever packages the trash bags lays then all flat and then folds them together five or six times, like some sort of origami. The Chinese puzzle of trash bags can only be solved by unfolding them all and taking one out. Then, of course, you need to fold them all up again, in order to keep them neat and tidy.
Then comes the fun part, finding the end of the bag that opens. There are no hints. I invariably try all four ends, sometimes twice, before I find the end that will open. Sometimes I manage to tear the bag trying to get it open.
Then I put the bag in a garbage container, which I had custom made because the bags won't fit in any off-the-shelf garbage bins. Neat and tidy. When it's time to change bags in the garbage bin, I notice that the bag has migrated to the bottom of the bin, with a ripe pile of garbage pushing it down to the bottom. The point of the bag has been defeated. Now you have to reach down through the ranks of filth in order to find an edge of the bag, which when pulled up, dumps the garbage on the floor. Mission accomplished. I know in my heart that garbage wants to be on the floor more than anything. I've observed its ways and it invariably wants to live on the floor.
Now that I've managed to get the garbage back into the bag, it's time to see how far I can carry it. This is a game I play with the garbage bag. The garbage bag, like Las Vegas, has already determined the likelihood of getting to the garbage pickup point. It is not high. My mission is to get past the halfway point before the bag gives up the ghost and distributes the garbage in an uneven pattern, usually on my cleanest carpet. At no time will the bag make the complete journey to the pickup point intact. When the bag breaks I fetch another bag to contain the first bag and as much of the garbage as I can gather by hand. Of course, I have to try all four ends before I find the one that opens.
When it comes to garbage, there is no gravity. When I let go of a piece of garbage directly above the garbage bin, it flies off on a tourist route to the floor. Remember, garbage lives on the floor. All it wants to do is go home. Only by placing my new piece of garbage down inside the garbage bin, thereby coating my hand with garbage sweat, is it possible to get the garbage to go into the bag.