Thank You, Litterman 6

I would like to publicly thank Litterman 6, for pulling me out of my torpor by sending me a marvelous response to a poem I wrote some months back, entitled Litter.

Read this and weep – or laugh – or snore; whatever lights your boat or floats your candle.

A *minasqual amount of McDonalds packaging is carelessly disposed of by uncaring consumers who by the way are PIGS your response to the problem is a brain dead poem that excludes the other offenders Keep working on it at least you are one that CARES as I do
Coming soon to all Mc Donald’s Location is an new tool that will make it easy, fast and the safest way to collect-contain-control the trash that gets away I know because I invented it Watch out for the Litterator our super heroes LITTER AVENGERS and our mascot EZZY our Litterator Gator ” BE HAPPY DON’T WORRY’

*I assume he means miniscule.

Is it a bird, is it a bee, is it a troll, or is it a sincere man whose main ambition in life is to eradicate litter? I dunno, since I, apparently, don’t have two brain cells to rub together. However, the one brain cell I do possess is unusually hard-working. Forty years ago – long before recycling programmes got underway – I knew that the solution was not to throw all our toxic plastics and polystyrene in a green box so that the council could sling it onto landfill sites or incinerate it. What we needed to do was to stop producing and purchasing the waste and to re-use what we can – for example, glass bottles, which should be returned to drinks factories to be refilled.

I applaud dear Mr Litterman’s efforts to tidy up our planet. He’s performing an essential function. It’s sad that after so many years of recycling we haven’t moved further forward, but as long as we continue to waste our resources and stamp carbon all over the place, the Litterman family are the nearest we’ve got to saviours.

Perhaps I owe my readers an apology. My poem focuses entirely on McDonalds. It fails to mention any of the other culprits. It also ignores car emissions, poverty, starvation, war, suicide and the mess brought about by misuse of drugs. These too, are serious issues.

And ingrown toenails. With the correct trimming technique, they are a largely avoidable problem – or so I’m told.

However, it would appear that, like me, Litterman has a vendetta against McDonalds, since he, also, seems to be targetting them with his ‘new tool’. Or am I deliberately misunderstanding him, as he did me?

If you are reading this, Litterman 6, I’d like to thank you again. As many of my readers know, I have overcome many difficulties my life, but my experience of the past few months drew me into such a deep depression that I was unable even to compose my usual brain-dead poetry, and yet your amusing message has pulled me back into orbit. You have saved me. Is it too soon to tell you I love you? Should I wait until you have invited me to view your private blog?

I’d like us to be friends. We could have so much fun hurling veiled insults at each other across the ether.

On a serious note; although you come across as a single-minded half-wit, I accept the possibility that you are a genius.

But that sliver of suspicion doesn’t stop me from grinning as I hone my disposable plastic knife.

©Jane Paterson Basil

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18 thoughts on “Thank You, Litterman 6

      1. Always my pleasure, and I’ve been doing plenty of writing, not working, not driving, I’m catching buses everywhere and walking, exercising, and pedalling my exercise bike (Yorkie), gradually getting betterer 😊✈️🗽xxxx

        Liked by 2 people

  1. Jane, your one non-dead brain cell has been jump started into action again! For this I am eternally grateful to Litterman6.
    You shine a beacon of light onto much that is wrong in our world. Keep it up. We here, are doing our bit best we can. Need more of us to pull together and get this household that is our world back into a clean state.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Aw, shucks Raili, you’re too kind. Litterman6 is the real hero. Without him I would not have learnt that the empty beer cans, needles and syringes which litter our streets have nothing to do with McDonalds.
      The poor man had no way of knowing that I’m in no mood for mindless insults. You and I have been talking about grief; the truth is that I’m grieving, and I’m scared for Paul and for myself. When someone in my position is attacked from the rear they sometimes, um, over-react…
      My nephew thought the post was hilarious, but was I too hard on The Man of Litter?

      Liked by 1 person

        1. It’s OK. He’s in touch with one of his sisters – I asked her to keep tabs on him. She has the wisdom to only tell me what I should know. He collected the keys to his new place outside the area. All week I’ve been worrying about how he’ll organise the move, but I haven’t contacted him. His sister reminded me that he always gets what he wants. She’s right; he somehow managed to get himself and his furniture to the flat on Thursday. I found out yesterday. This morning, although the grief is stewing away in the background I woke up feeling as if I have a future. It’s a wonderful, unfamiliar feeling.

          Liked by 2 people

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