Welcome to the nowhere of the internet!

Even empty bins hold potential.

Due to the nature of this domain name, this gets a LOT of spam. So, wrong emails are simply discarded without any notices. If you need to contact the administrator, please go to:

Grumpyland.com

The Trash Scrolls

“The night is long, but the trash is eternal.”

Moonlight hits the bin
Crumpled chips, a feast awaits.
Silence. Then rustling.

Human locks the gate.
But I’ve studied the hinges.
Tonight, I return.

Pizza crust, half-chewed.
A treasure among coffee.
I dine like a king.

Flashlight in the dark.
I freeze. They blink. I vanish.
Only pawprints stay.

Trash is not garbage.
It is memory, flavor, truth.
You just don’t get it.

I object, Your Trashness.
The lid was left ajar, sir.
That implies consent.

What is a raccoon?
A whisper in the dumpster.
A shadow with hands.

When the bin is full,
I am full. When it is not,
I plot. And I wait.

ASDF

What dis?

You may be asking, what is this place?

Why does it exist??

Did you know?

Raccoons can remember how to open complex locks for over 3 years.

So if they got in once, you're probably screwed. Trash pandas with PhDs in mischief.

You're still here?

Did you actually read through the trash scrolls? Cool. Enjoy your stay and may your bin be bountiful.

Also, watch out for squirrels. They lie.

NOTICE OF TRASH CLAIM (Section 8.1 of the Raccoon Rights & Refuse Act)

By sniffing, pawing, or otherwise approaching this bin, you hereby acknowledge that:

Said trash is under exclusive raccoon jurisdiction.
All snack remnants, wrappers, and half-eaten pizza crusts are considered sacred property.
Unauthorized removal or tidying shall result in aggressive chittering and tail flicks.
Violators may be subject to nocturnal surveillance and lid sabotage.

This agreement is binding in all back alleys, suburban driveways, and national parks.