Lately, the old king in front of the neighborhood was busy collecting junk. The tricycle ran four or five times a day, and the mosquitoes were almost caught in his smile. Why? Because the price of the waste has gone up so badly, the first time i've seen this battle, i've lived up to the old saying — that it's a lot less, a lot of it, a lot of it, a lot of it, and not a lot of it。
Yesterday evening, when he came down to dump the garbage, he ran into a knitting bag carrying two drumbags to the side. I said, "my lord, are you moving or cleaning?" he goes back and he laughs, "cleaner! There's so much junk in the house that he's sold enough to eat two ribs!" i was still groaning. How much would a couple of paper shells cost? And then he went to the junkyard with curiosity, and the guy, 2026, was like a rocket -- double the price of copper, 60% of the paper, and the price of the plastic bottle that used to be called. On the way home, i couldn't sit down, turned the box upside down until midnight, scrambling out a pile of treasures from under the bed, the corner of the balcony, the storage room。
Don't tell me those little pieces that don't normally look at, they're all hard currency now. The drawers are entangled with old charger wires, broken headphones, batteries from out-of-cell phones, plugs cut off on small household electricity, which i used to stuff directly into garbage bags, and i can't afford to leave. There's little motors hidden in children's bad electric toys, old flashlights of metal reflecting bowls, even the rusty razor, and the little machines that are removed can be sold alone. I found a seven-and-a-eight-year-old radio, and the shell was yellow, and i thought i had to throw it, and the small parts on the copper wires and circuit boards that were removed were changed by 15 dollars -- enough to buy two pounds of oranges。
In the kitchen, the stomping aluminum pots, the stainless steel basins, the leaking faucets, are the best. There's an old ash-bearing electromagnetic furnace under my stove, and the panels were broken, and it was supposed to be thrown away with the building garbage, and this time the master of the scrap took a test of the magnet and said that the copper wire and the large-dispersed heat tablets were good, and this one alone was 18 bucks. Plus a few rotten pots and two rusty iron pliers, we've sold more than 40, enough to buy a whole chicken。
The most amazing thing is paper shells. I used to save half a month's delivery box and sell it for $3. 50, and now i've jumped from 4 cents to 65 pounds. I've been stacking up the balcony with boxes for a month or two, old textbooks for children, promotion leaflets for supermarkets, and even hard-paper partitions in mooncake boxes, all flattening up, two croquettes, and over the scales, selling 58 bucks. The king of waste also taught me the trick: the box needs to be flattened, the copper and aluminium lines separated, plastic bottles crushed and bundled, so that they can be sold in different categories, nearly 30 percent more than a mix。
Honestly, we don't expect to get rich with this, but we don't want the money for nothing. Especially in old-age families, it's easy to save them. Why not buy food instead of work? I made a check, and the pile of stuff that i packed last night, together with a half-year-old bad electric kettle, two old fans, a bunch of rusty wire, sold a total of $123. It doesn't look like much. How much do you have to throw down a year
Thinking about it, i used to think that selling junk was cold, and now i realize that the hard-working master is not ashamed of any time, and the real shame is to dump the money-changing baby. Why don't you go home tonight and flip over -- the unresponsive charge line under the bedside cabinet, the non-responsive aluminum pot in the toolbox, the dusted old dish in the corner of the balcony, maybe three meals tomorrow? Who's got a grudge against money these days
