She Left An Unforgettable Carbon Footprint 1973-2022

Anita Sweet-Black, the infamous irritating recycling hound who famously convinced yuppies to wear reclaimed toilets seats around their necks while repurposing the lids as reusable plates, passed away Thursday trying to save a planet that didn’t ask for her help.  Sources proclaimed she bit the dust after complications from an undiagnosed plastic allergy led to a three year flatulent obstruction that ruptured her intestines at the gassed blocked age of 49.

Former associates in the movement spiritlessly remember her as the type of activist who never met the devil on the highway because they were always headed in the same direction.  Politicians apotheosize her as a blackmailing nag that made even Diane Feinstein look saintly.  For her reclaiming toilet seat followers, dying of involuntary combustion and leaving an ozone causing methane cloud behind proved her true mission in life was to leave shit all over the world.

Sources say Sweet-Black began her life’s work following a babysitting excursion in which she became a full grown woman but left her client dead from used prophylactic inhalation at the tender age of two.  After learning the hard way that children in the dark make accidents but accidents in the dark make children, a warped combination of guilt and court mandated community service led her into a compulsive recycling syndrome stalking classmates who say she stinkingly waited on the chance to dispose of their used birth control barriers in proper receptacles.

After a gas station episode that involved her fighting hookers for their diaphragms that resulted in a subsequent arrest and attempted molestation charges, Sweet-Black redirected her recycling energy and focus into a stint in the Peace Corps once the charges were dropped.  Volunteers say her superiors welcomed her passion for creating sustainable biodegradable techniques until her commanding officer slipped and rectally impaled himself on a collection of plastic cutlery she confiscated without approval.

A dishonorable discharge did little to deter her motivation.  Rumors abound she set her sights on restaurants, bars, and grills of whom she deemed the biggest transgressors of waste.  Though tiresome, hospital reports say not even contracting contact dermatological herpes discouraged her from her daily recycling regiment that included everything from discarded straws to used sanitary napkins off various floors and trash containers around the county.

In part to an election year and the incumbent wanting good press, Sweet-Black was given a post in the Department of Sanitation.  Former co-workers say she was considered the perfect hire to help with the overflowing bird dropping problems plaguing most of the metropolitan area; having developed a face that could stop avian defecation in mid-air from undetected illnesses she proved she could kill two birds with one recycled stone if necessary. 

The next five years proved challenging; impoverished residents refused to dispose of their trash and the city administration had no use of her movement after winning the re-election.  Estranged acquaintances say after a trip to the state capital where she mentioned an off-colored arithmetic joke that insinuated the governor had a drinking problem resulted in her being loaned out to the collegiate state system to irritate. 

After six weeks of covert deep state reconnaissance she discovered the biggest transgressor of nonrecycled trash were collegiate students.  During a showcase to the dean of the biggest college in the state highlighting issues of used prophylactics and shower curtain togas littering campus, Sweet-Black suffered a concussion on the grounds of a troublesome fraternity who were on triple quadruple secret probation.  Police reports indicate drunken members of the fraternal organization hurled a soiled toilet seat from their second floor window, striking a direct hit on her temple. 

Laying in a catatonic state was enlightening for her.  Medical personnel say the abundance of plastic products used in the hospital reminded her that bacteria was the only culture people had, and most of that were found in toilet seats the world over.  Upon her discharged release she busied herself with plans to bring repurposed toilet seats to the masses as the easiest item to recycle.  Tag lines that soiled paper on roads could easily break down even stuck in cracks radiated a sense of civic pride in local residents, and took off like wildfire.

As toilet seats were cost prohibitive for middle and lower class people according to the Center for Toilet Apothecary, her efforts were slow to gain traction.  A chance encounter with a plumber who had broken a toilet seat  while unclogging the receptacle gave Sweet-Black her big break.  From his lip service proclaiming her a toilet seat disposal company, foreign owned gas stations graciously offered her the pick of their toilet seat litter. 

With the support of the Tree Hugging Association of America she was able to find adequate homes for each piece of plastic porcelain covering, touting its multipurpose function illustrating it’s lid as the ultimate plate du jour.  Soon after the newspaper came calling; a food segment with French Chef Aye Cheaux brought her cause to the masses.  Within twenty-four hours soiled toilet seat cooking challenges sprawled all over social media for the good of the planet.

At her peak her body gave out.  Undiagnosed latex allergies were shutting down her intestinal system, which she chalked up to genetics and too much green tea.  Colleagues refused to make her go to the doctor, worried that her pooting would send enough methane to generate a visit from the EPA.  An impromptu regurgitation of defecation through her oral cavity without any burping only served as a speed bump on her unwavering path of recycling.

Anita Sweet-Black combusted from complications stemming from touching soiled plastic with her bare hands in vain attempts to prevent another trash island from being born.  Sources say she let out the fart of a lifetime that lasted for fifteen minutes that cultivated in her intestines rupturing from her flatulent flood valves being open.  Her explosive departure is a profound reminder that it’s better out than in when you’re eating a poor man’s diet of beans and hot sauce ramen noodles.