Wednesday, 26 March 2014

I love you, Mum


It’s that time of year again, the strangest of all celebrations, where we are meant to thank our Mother’s for making the beast with two backs and as a (sometimes unwanted) result, gracing us with life. We’ve all seen the sickening billboards depicting a lady with a smile that only psychiatric patients find natural, clutching some form of supermarket tat hidden under questionable Christmas wrapping paper found in the last minute pressure of the whole the charade. Oh yes, here at Dumpster we are more than aware of our previous twenty-something years of gifting flowers, chocolates and generic ‘you’re female’ items. So, we though, hey – Let’s get RADICAL.

This year, we’re embracing the day and daring to dodge the tat! There will be no sparkly pink paper, vom inducing poetry or novelty shaped sweets. We’ve bashed our heads together and decided to spread our words of wisdom and give you some inspiration for celebrating the day.

For the over-the-top Mum: A bracelet made from your used dental floss.
You know the ones, she may still have a lock of your hair and first tooth knocking around the mantelpiece, or perhaps, just perhaps in the most extreme of cases - a segment of her placenta that encased you for those treasured nine months. Now you’re all grown up and able to fight back, why not play her at her own game?

For the truly average Mum: One of these cards.
We’ve been scouring the online realm and you have just enough time to nab yourself one of these beauties. Available from notonthehighstreet.com



For The green fingered Mum: A recycled plant pot right from the ass of mother nature (well, a cow).
We’re a sucker for some good old 100% recycled product, so why not give her a cow pat! These plant pots are everything eco and we know first hand- they are in fact odour free. It is amazing the over whelming decision you are struck with when faced with a dried cow pat… to lick or not to lick? Yes… it’s us, of course we licked them. And you know what? Its wasn’t bad. Not bad at all.

For The Alcoholic Mum: A wine bag.
We love a little tipple now and then, but this mum really takes the biscuit. She could incorporate alcohol into a toddlers party if she really tried. So why not help her out. Make that habit portable!


For The Chunkier Mum: A somewhat less-than-subtle fridge magnet.
She’s cuddly, well, she was a few years ago. Now it’s time to bring out the big guns, and highlight that issue with the funzies we all enjoy so much. (And, no, we’re not suggesting throwing about some ‘yo mumma so fat’ jokes).



For the Posh Mum: A hamper of the low-brow delights she is missing.
She knows her posh shit, and she likes it. Who are you to mess with the breathing time of her wine tannins? Well, it’s time to show her what she’s missing! We suggest a home-made hamper full of these wondrous creations.




For the cheap mum: Wipe away her shame.
Children of the cheap mum, we feel your pain. All those years of her insisting on buying the bootleg version of everything. Peering into your lunch box and spying that Wild and Whippy, whilst eyeing your Bessie chowing down on their luscious branded Milky Way. We can at least diminish the embarrassment of having to leave the house with a mum sporting a cheap green stained neck from where her Primark necklace has began to dissolve into her skin. These handy wipes will eliminate those stains branding her (and in association, you) cheap, and save you a slither of dignity.


-Kim Dollard

Sunday, 2 March 2014

The Mikado

No… not the tasty chocolate treat. If that was the case this post would be a lot more positive. So on Saturday night my friend and I managed to sway our comrades to come to the opera. We thought why the heck not, it’s a Saturday night, lets get cultural. The show we went to see was called the Mikado, I had never heard of this before, and was instantly hooked by the blurb…

“Nanki-Poo is in love with Yum-Yum, but she is engaged to Ko-Ko. Ko-Ko needs to find someone to execute, and when he sees Nanki-Poo about to commit suicide it seems he has the perfect way out. But Nanki-Poo’s price for acquiescence is that he lives his final month married to Yum-Yum; chaos ensues!”

As im sure you can see why, I needed no persuasion. We later found out that this was in fact a very well renown opera by Gilbert and Sullivan. Don’t worry, we were punished for our ignorance. We had to sit through a 2 hour operetta surrounded by die hard fans, getting judged for every giggle and laugh that escaped our lips.

It was made apparent within the first 4 seconds that it was quite clearly an amateur production. Im not going to sit here and slag off a university’s drama department- some people were loving it, Its just God didn’t grace me with such a forgiving nature. We were like 4 school children sat at the back of the bus, passing messages to each other and trying to not get chucked out. It didn’t help that I forgot my glasses and the only ones I had with me were my prescription sunnies. Which meant I was deemed a troublemaker from the off, sat in the back of a pitch-black theatre wearing shades.


The woman in front of me was convinced she was the conductor, bobbing along with every song like she was on a freaking dinghy. She was humming with such vigorous attitude that I thought at one point she may actually have been part of the cast. After the first act it became clear the two hip flasks we bought with us were never going to be enough, so at the interval we went to the shop and stocked up with double the amount to face the second act. After this it all became a lot more tolerable. 

At one point while Yum Yum and Naki Poo were singing some wildly inappropriately sounding song, I totally lost it, the giggles got the best of me and i had genuine tears running down my face. It all became too much- There was a short stubby girl who looked like an umpa luma who had lost her way back to the factory. There was a man in a motorised wheelchair who didn’t know the words and (funnily enough) couldn’t keep up with the dancing. There was one character who was hidden under a table and would pop up when the word tittyshop was said. Oh lord, it was an experience to say the least.


We came out feeling slightly shaken and drained of all laughter. On the way out of the theatre I saw a flyer for ‘Dreamboys’ why the hell we didn’t go to that instead is my new biggest regret in life. It has over taken updating my iphone to IOS7.