Searching our bins is a rubbish idea
All too late in the day, I have come to worry about the stuff I put out in my waste bins. It is not the recycling issue that bothers me, but what council officials, poring over my detritus with rubber gloves in some sanitised hell in Maidstone, might find out about me, and what they might decide to do as a consequence. Obviously, nothing good. It never is anything good. They are not going to ring me up and say sir, as a consequence of your rubbish inspection, we’ve decided to reduce your council tax per year to what it would cost to feed a family of 12 in Mali for seven decades.