Stealing and rebuilding Amy Winehouse's rubbish, by Vice Magazine

Ok, I know stealing Amy Winehouse's garbage was a cheap shot. But obvious jokes are obvious jokes for a reason; when something is so obviously funny and retarded that every single person in the world is making fun of it, then you know you're onto a winner. That's why farting is still funny.

The real challenge was finding her house. I tried googling a bunch of stuff, but had no luck. So I resorted to next-level CSI tactics. Me and my housemate spent hours scanning every YouTube video and paparazzi photo we could find of Amy Winehouse either in or around her house. After a while we got a pretty good idea of what the area she lived in looked like and were able to sketch a (really really really inaccurate) map.

And before anyone points it out in the comments section, I now know that I could have just looked at any article about her (ex?) husband's trial to find out her address. Or done a search for "Amy Winehouse" on Google Maps. But w/eves. I knew she was away when we went to her house because I'd seen pictures of her looking healthy (ie: like Jewish Gollum) in the paper. I figured her bins would be locked inside because she's such an obvious target, but we lucked out and there was a yellow wheelie bin with two full bags inside. When we were sure no one was looking, we picked them both up and ran to a little park near her house. The first bag which had been really really heavy, turned out to be full of cat litter.

So joke's on me I guess; if l will insist on living in the gutter, then eventually I'm going to get covered in cat turd. The second bag was full of shards of broken glass which, after a little inspection turned out to be a goldfish bowl.

So, surprisingly, Winehouse had dull trash. I guess I could try and work on some theory about her breaking the bowl in some drug-induced rampage (and maybe link the cat litter to her no-longer being able to use a toilet) but I think what probably happened is that whoever was looking after her cat broke her goldfish bowl. We ditched the cat shit and took the glass home. Then we started the long and tiresome mission to reconstruct the bowl.

After super-gluing my hands, the bowl, and a cup of coffee to my kitchen table, me and some friends managed to reassemble it. Good as new!

I was going to hold onto it until she got back from St Lucia, but I heard rumours she's moving there for good and then I felt a little pity toward her after seeing that whole thing about how she got robbed and really, I'm just sick of looking at the fucking thing. So I took it back last night. I even wrapped it up nice and attached a little note.

When got there, I could tell someone was home because I could see them moving around through the blinds. I rang the buzzer, but no one answered. So I just left the box on the doorstep.

After waiting around a corner for a couple of minutes, I went back to see if it was still there, but it had vanished. So I guess it's in the hands of Amy's people now. Either that or the hands of someone who saw a box marked 'Ms A. Winehouse' in the street and stole it. Actually, thinking about it, I kind of hope her people don't have it, because, by returning something to her house that was there when she left (and putting my full name on the note that accompanied it) I may have accidentally framed myself in the robbery of chateau Winehouse.

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