The Local Man's Garbage (Tweets)

I should say to those who don't know, Grandma is my grandma. I am her grandson. She taught me many things I know. She partially raised me.

So that's our story.

Now I'm grown up, I live here still, in the same house we've always had since they first got it back before I was born. It's familiar to me.

It's one of the local houses in the town of which we are a part. Our address is one of the standard addresses that shows up on maps.

I've always been happy to live locally, because you do get very used to it. Every tree, every post, every eaves trough, I'm used to seeing.

Out of all the people in the town, I am one. I'm the one who pays the most attention to myself, it's safe to say, keeping my reputation.

I'm proud to introduce myself and how I think of myself. I call myself the local man, because that's proudly what I am, how it works.

There's nothing strangely out of whack in my world. I abide very much at the local level, eating my food and taking the garbage out weekly.

Some locally based guys come and check our garbage cans. Their truck has a door that swings up. They're trained so they won't lose an arm.