Wednesday, September 13, 2006

Shit Happens

I have a shredder which I use to shred documents and letters containing personal information. I’m well aware of the dangers of identity theft. I also have a handbag in which I carry around letters, junk and other assorted debris for weeks on end. What my handbag rarely contains is plastic bags for picking up dogshit.

I had business in the village yesterday. It was Paddy’s turn for a walk out with me so off we set, me with my handbag full of rubble and him…

…him with several pounds of doodoo up his jacksy. His first drop was outside the (now closed down) police station. I searched frantically through my bag and came out with my last wages slip from the Novas Group. I opened up this historical document and gingerly scooped up his offering. Then off to the nearest poo-receptacle hoping that my national insurance number would not be discovered by some desperate bin-hoker.

We walked on. Took a turn up towards the council estate. Which is where he made his second drop. Into the bag again and all I could find was a folded A4 sheet containing all the numbers in my mobile phone. Now even more sensitive documentation is lying in the poo-bin. I really do hope that all the identity thieves in the Cullybackey area are easy scunnered.

3 comments:

Hageltoast said...

i wonder what sort of identity they'd expect to find in a poo bin and how desperate they'd have to be?

Nelly said...

There are a lot of desprit bad hoors here but even so I thought it would be worth the risk.

Anonymous said...

Hola Nelly--

Do not understimate the enthusiasm of British intelligence. I have met many of their top agents in the field, dressed like winos and rooting through rubbish bins. Some also of them went to public school: They are especially chosen for their kinky preferences.

Many of them are French.