Yes. a box of books. Roughly 50 books in a 5 gallon Roughneck, which SHOULD have been an easy "hit and run" type of errand, dropping off at Good Will. Only, what's that? Yeah. No. I couldn't drop off the bushel of books because my mother, apparently, was in the habit of dumping her used hypodermics in with her books. Why? I haven't a clue, as she had both, a garbage pail AND a sharps container within easy reach of her recliner. My upper lip snarls up in disgust thinking of it.
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What sayeth thou? (Mean people suck, don't fuck it up.)
"I hate people."
"People" stop being "people" when they become friends.
Friends stop being friends when they become assholes.
So to refine my hatred, I hate people and I hate assholes.