The Manic Recycling Theorem

Post CLXX

Here’s the story of human thought, MI5, and underwear.

The thought of a stranger handling my underwear is a tad unsettling. I mean, it was okay in the good old days when used underwear was taken away to a tip and dumped, but nowadays, one must recycle to save the Earth, which is nonsensical because it’s already screwed. But now we have a million and one bins to dump our junk in. To be recycled. So when I throw some old underwear out these days, in the front of my mind, is the thought that somebody, somewhere, is sifting through that pile of junk to send it out to be recycled. And then it hits you. Your underwear is in that pile of junk! The whole notion makes me very uncomfortable. I mean, what if it was somebody you knew? “Oh man, there’s a whole lotta underwear in this guy’s bin – hey, that looks like my husband’s underwear he threw out the other day – hang on, there’s a thong in here, too. I don’t own a thong.” Next thing you know, she’s figured out you’re having an affair, all because of recycling! You see, readers, you see? Recycling is in its own world of murky darkness…

Of course, there are things to consider regarding this scenario. Why would your husband’s ‘mistress’ throw away her underwear? And even if she were in the situation of needing to throw them away, why would she not take them away with her? Furthermore, why would you even have the affair at your home? If your wife knew you threw them out, then we assume this all happened at home. This, to me, suggests this husband doesn’t know the first thing about having an affair, making the situation a whole lot more complex. There is a very real chance he wanted to be caught, but a man rarely likes being caught doing anything. It also raises the interesting prospect that your husband likes to dress as a lady. Which is perfectly fine. But why would he throw the underwear in the bin? If he’s thrown it away, he clearly didn’t want anyone finding out, yet. I’m not a cross-dresser, but surely, this is Cross-Dressing 1-0-1. All this suggests something has gone very wrong in this loving relationship. And it is a loving relationship, because working in a recycling plant is the type of job you only do so your kids have food. Just for the money. And if you have kids, you clearly love each other. That or the condom broke. Either way…

Of course, the next biggest issue is obvious. The thong. Ask any woman, they’ll all say the same. Thongs are bloody awful. Uncomfortable and pointless. I mean, if this husband is a cross-dresser, then he clearly knows nothing about it. He may have just started out in this world. Popped into Debenhams. Surrounded by a hundred other guys trying to buy underwear for the wife, which is an impossible task, by the way. Anything you buy, she’ll hate. Most other things, women are grateful for the thought, but when it comes to clothes and shoes, there is no forgiveness. I bet this is the root for most divorces. There’s actually another option for our husband. He is an undercover MI5 agent. A normal guy brought in to the undercover fold. I don’t know why he had to dress as a woman for MI5, but it’s not important. You could say that this still doesn’t explain the underwear in the bin, but an MI5 agent once left an MI5 laptop, full of secrets, on a public train. Suddenly, a suburban cross-dressing husband leaving underwear in a bin is a little less farfetched.

Of course, one could argue that the woman should be rightfully annoyed at her husband’s ‘shenanigans’. There you are, sifting through trash, and the next minute, your whole world unravels in front of your very eyes. It’s a high-risk job, isn’t it? When you put your bins out to recycle, they go to a plant where they are sorted by humans. Think about all the things you put in your recycling bins! Receipts. “Oi, Dave! Get a load of this pile of trash I’m sorting through – I’ve found loads of receipts in here for all kinds of kinky stuff!” And that conversation with Dave will escalate into a pub conversation that’ll be told for decades. What about underwear? How do you know the guy sorting it hasn’t got an underwear fetish? “Ooh, I’ll keep these for my collection.” What about photos? “Ooh, I’ll keep this and put it on my wall at home.” What about ‘protection’? I sure as hell wouldn’t put that in a recycling bin.

We’re getting to the point now, readers, where we have to think more and more about what we actually put in the recycling bin. If you put underwear in there, you’re gonna have to clean it. “Margaret, I’m just putting my underwear in the washing machine, then I’ll put it in the bin – I don’t want them to think less of me.” The worst part is that the world is already screwed. We can’t save her now. We may as well give up. What’s the bloody point in trying? ‘Save the whales! Save the whales!’ Screw the bloody whales, they’re already dead, you chump!

And I’ll go back to this point. Why does it make me uncomfortable? Am I the only one? We don’t know these people. I mean, okay they may be related but they’ll never know whose trash they’re going through. But there’s still something… not right. I can’t put my finger on what. But the idea of somebody fishing through my discarded underwear makes me very queasy. The idea that these strange human sorters may judge me, fills me with dread. “Oh, how disgusting, what a vile and reprehensible human.” And the worst part is, we would do the same. Come on, now. If you were in that situation, could you really do it without making judgments? There’s a darker side to all of us.

Should it bother me? I don’t know. It’s like one of these things that when you first see it, you can’t get it out of your head. Like hot pants. Maybe our MI5 undercover cross-dressing husband had the right idea. Just toss it in the bin and do your best to forget about it.

Although please, don’t take his advice on underwear choice…

Pulitzer Prize winning American journalist, columnist, speaker and commentator, Ellen Goodman (b. 1941) once said, “I regard this novel as a work without redeeming social value, unless it can be recycled as a cardboard box.”

Peace Out :|:


I’d love to hear your thoughts on this post. You can leave a comment and/or like this post below, or by clicking the title on the top of this post if you are on the archives page. Likes and follows greatly appreciated. Thanks.


Please feel free check out the latest posts from my other two blogs:

To Contrive & Jive
New Posts Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday
Click Here to Read the Latest Post

Hark Around the Words
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