Bins may stink bad and look rubbish, but without them we’d all be living in total filth. To celebrate this, we’re proposing the launch of a new newspaper called the Bindependent*, a broadsheet (or, should that be, binsheet!?) dedicated solely to bin news around the world. The tagline on the paper would be: Where there’s a bin, there’s somethin’ happenin‘.
With a skilled team of skilled journalists skillfully reporting bin-related news around the clock, you’d be kept up-to-date about all the latest bin happenin’ things, such as when a university student drunkenly kicks a bin over, detailed analysis of the most recent bin collections, and in-depth interviews with binmen across the world. You wouldn’t need to put on a spin, when there’s a bin!
A bin is classified as a receptacle (hollow object) where, typically, useless stuff (such as severed limbs, male pattern balding induced hair loss, and old cabbages) can be discarded. Around bins, rats often congregate in order to enjoy tasty leftovers (such as severed limbs, old cabbages, and bits of McDonald’s). Skips, of course, are not bins as they are skips and do not meet bin criteria.
The editor for this newspaper would, of course, be Arnold Schwarzenegger. Clobbering together an eclectic mix of broadsheet and tabloid journalists, he’d ensure news stories offer a bizarre hybrid of ultra-serious feature articles and salacious snippets about the debauchery-fueled world of bins.
Feature articles would cover the best bins from history, the best bin cities, obscure bins, analysis of bin development, and the future of bins. For the latter, mindless and wild theories would be thrown out there for the sake of having a guess, such as the possibility bins will merge with Bentley Motors Limited to produce Bintley cars. These would include a giant bin on the back, so rich people can put their spritzers in there once consumed.
On the salacious side of things, tabloid journalists would head out into A, B, C, and Z list celebrity hotspots to catch celebs in bin-friendly (or unfriendly) poses. A good week would include a paparazzi snap of Brad Pitt barfing into a bin after one too many spritzers, Ben Affleck getting drunk and changing his name to Bin Affleck, or Amy Adams giving up Hollywood to go and live in a bin (like Diogenes did, back in antiquity).
This paper being for the binmen of the world, there would be lots of interviews with people from the bin world. This would include those in the upper echelons of the bin industry hierarchy, plus the working class scumbags who handle your gross rubbish every fortnight. Here’s a sample interview of the latter with the binman Frank.
The Bindependent: What do you like most about being a binman?
Frank the Binman: I dunno, mate. Found a porn mag in a bin once. That were pretty good.
The Bindependent: Is there not a casual anathema towards your duty? This is considering the plangent clattering of bins creating a pernicious, yet anachronistic, coeval in evidence, brought about by the enforced altruism you are committed to, but also in contemplation of how others may take schadenfreude delight from your pitiful existence.
Frank the Binman: Well… one time I were dead ‘ungover one mornin’ and found this old pizza in a bin. I ate it. Shit were flyin’ out of me for days.
With remarkable insights such as this, we feel the Bindependent would almost certainly win Newspaper of the Year in 2018 and catapult its journalists to stardom. Bins would also receive welcome coverage – as we all know, when there’s a bin there’s a way. When there’s no bin, there’s litter. When there’s litter, there’s the apocalypse.