We all know where the path that's paved with good intentions goes, and The Shark is currently embroiled in a recycling snafu that has everyone (really just me) in a tizzy.

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Notice how neat and clean and innocent looking this bin is while it sits in our kitchen?


Before this weekend it was stacked nearly to the ceiling with unwashed non-cans and non-bottles.

Busted tupperware, birthday cake lids, dot matrix printers, cadmium infused drinking glasses, red dye #5, cathode ray tube televisions and yellow cake uranium.

Within the last year, someone at some meeting mentioned that we should have a recycling bin, and for about 3 months, all was well.

NOW, people use it as some sort of landfill version of Jenga hoping that their dry cell plutonium battery or their weapons grade can of pesticide isn't going to tip the whole thing over.

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Thankfully, the good people that keep the rest of our building absolutely spotless have decided enough is enough and contained the Jenga into this large and heavy duty garbage bag.

I plan on throwing it in our dumpster after about a week. I want it to sit in the corner for a while as a reminder to those who promised that they'd use this bin as an instrument to save the earth, to feel shame about the neglect and the trouble they have caused (me).