When I was a kid it was constantly a competition with the fuggin Hutterites at the dump. The dump was a magical place for a young boy where treasures lurked everywhere. I still remember - almost with tears - when the fuggin Hoots scooped me when they pulled an almost pristine Honda minibike out from under a pile of refuse. I'm still mad about it!!!! But fair is fair, I suppose - they got there first. The International Laws Of Salvage apply... sob.
But the place had other charms - dodging crapping seagulls was a major sport and the game was over when your hat got splattered. You lost extra points if any got in your mouth or sprayed your lips. The smell was of course horrible but ya got used to it. Various items of junk made excellent targets for the sling shots and the .22's.
So you can imagine my chagrin when this young hussie figured she could just horn in on my pile of back yard treasure and help herself!
Get outta there, you shameless young hussie!!! I busted my hump
just gonna waltz in here and take it from me...!!!
Sheesh! The bloody gall!!! Must be one of Uncle Bob's girl friends...