I've kinda hit a breaking point with this shit, I literally have no idea how I'm properly supposed to be disposing of this stuff, and frankly, the stuff scares the shit out of me.
Like it's been drilled into my head so many times that you can't pour it down the sink or toilet that I honestly fear for my life if a drop goes down the drain...like one little drop and I'm chasing it down the drain with half a bottle of dish washer detergent and 30 minutes of hot water, I even debate leaving the house just in case the sink blows up or something...I'm that paranoid, I don't know why you can't pour it down the sink but I have to think there'll be horrific consequences judging by how often you hear you can't do it.
The other go to option from my care free, easy breasy college days, was to just dump that shit out the window. Sorry neighbors below, don't mind that filth flying by your window or the big old grease stain on the lawn/sidewalk below. That was the simplest solution, but something I've been informed is frowned upon in a domesticated relationship. Like all of a sudden the objects you throw out of your apartments windows directly correlate with your maturity or something, makes no sense to me but I guess I gotta play by the rules.
The third option, and one I'm currently going with, is pouring it into glass recepticles and apparently storing it for all of eternity under your sink...That's where I'm at right now. No joke, I have like 3 jars of crisp, congealed, lardy substances under my sink, not a clue what to do with them. Am I allowed to throw it out? Just doesn't seem smart, would in all likelihood lead to a raccoon revolution in our dumpster, that can't be good. Does someone want this stuff? Like it's not enough for any of those companies that go around buying grease, but maybe a hippie down at the Occupy Boston encampment could use this stuff? Feed their grease powered mopeds or something (do they have those? they really should). Either way I know I hate pouring this stuff into the jar (it always spills off, there's just no way to make a pan fit into the mouth of an old pasta sauce jar), I inevitably burn my hand a little bit, and now everytime I open the cabinet under the sink, I'm just faced with an undisclosed amount of old fat, just sitting there. It's gross.
