Homeless on the Range
I'd like to kick this man in the teeth, but unfortunately for me he doesn't have any. Don't even try to kick him in the dignity, or the food.After making several trips to various cities in the last few months, I've come to the solid conclusion that I hate cities and all the various creatures dwelling within. They're congested, loaded with filth, and have a horrible smell that can only be described as "wee-wee-esque." I meant that as a description of the city itself, but in retrospect it's a fairly accurate characterization of many of the people who live in these cities as well. Being from the bastardized, yet vastly improved stepchild of cities known as the suburbs, I have little tolerance for all the quirks of a city that other people might find endearing. And yet, it seems beyond the realm of possibility for some people to accept the fact that I dislike areas rife with crime and pollution... areas which have a population of giant, deadly sewer rats which is only kept in check by the population of gianter, deadlier sewer sharks. "Oh, you just have to get used to it. You'll grow to love it," they say. Thanks, but no thanks, city folk! Sorry I don't like your cold, loveless pit of despair, devoid of joy and manners and safety!
Despite my many grievances with these urban hell zones, the one which seems to stand out most is my total and utter hatred for the homeless. Hobos are a wretched bunch, filthier than a thousand issues of Hustler, and in a completely different, far less sexy way. And cities are swarming with them, they're like a veritable hobo-hive. But don't be fooled by that comparison to bees, because any gooey discharge from a homeless man is bad news! No matter what they were in their past, hobos are terrible, terrible people. Whether they're seasoned hobo pros, or relative homeless rookies like many young ex dot-commers have become, they are all awful and deserve everything they get. As an example, here is an absolutely true hobo story I'd like to share with you which will chill you to your bones, or at least distract you from the pain of living for a few seconds...
This contains secret hobo treasures, known to you and me as "garbage!"One day, on a visit to the city of LA, myself and several chums were eating in a highly respectable Subway restaurant. We got our food and began to eat, when suddenly, we caught the attention of a homeless man outside our window. Apparently the chewing and savoring motions were a homing beacon for hobos, and our intense moans of pleasure and satisfaction from food consumption were audible from miles away to the well trained hobo ear. Instead of waiting for us to leave the building, this man has the audacity to COME INSIDE the restaurant and request that we give him money. The conversation went something like this...
Homeless Man: (Obviously annoyed that we didn't shower him with the precious stones and scented oils he felt he deserved upon his arrival) Do you have any money?
Homeless Man: (Clearly angered by my lack of respect for his royal filthiness) Do you know your book of life, son?!
At this point, he left the establishment and talked to another, more frightening hobo outside. This one had a long, scraggily grey beard, and the "crazy eyes" which are greatly valued by scary transients. He made it a point to stare at us through the window until we made our hasty escape through the secret rear exit and ran home like little girls.
Indoors Land's star attraction!For this reason, and many more, I am and forever will be anti-homeless. And that includes the horrible gypsies and carnies too, they're just hobos living in tents and wagons instead of makeshift wooden shanties. If I were rich, my favorite pastime would be to usher hobos into a private theater to enjoy a show in which I would frantically eat hundred dollar bills dipped in the finest of Dutch chocolates. However, I think that this hobo torture would eventually bond me with my hated enemies, and encourage me to give something back for all the hours of entertainment their pathetic anguish would provide me. Thus, I propose the construction of the very first homeless theme park, quaintly titled "Indoors Land." This project wouldn't require much financing, as it would just be a condemned building with a sign over the door. It would be broken into several theme areas, such as...
Asbestos Town: The main area of "Indoors Land" would be Asbestos Town. Characters in foam suits such as "The Benevolent Businessman" and "Glenda the Giver" would walk around greeting people, and would give out fake plastic coins which the hobos would have to surrender upon exit of the park. Almost everyone without a home can enjoy the fun of such rides as...
"The Shopping Cart Thriller"
"The Filthy Rag Trampoline"
"Rusty Tire on a Rope: Flight of Terror"
Back Alley Alley: Of course, the theme park would have to have a Wild West themed
area, and Back Alley Alley would do just the trick. Rides include...
"Jack Danielle's Amazing Whisky Stumbletron"
"The Rattlesnake" (an actual rattlesnake)
"Crips and Bloods Wild West Shootout show" (Outside Windows)
Of course, we'd need set items to really sell the illusion. As such, old heroin needles left behind by bums would be collected and used to make fake cacti, and any hair to fall off a hobo would be swept up and used to make tumbleweeds.
Dead Hobo Valley: Indoors Land's haunted, scary area. To save on costs, we'd use actual dead hobos as props.
Leaky Roof Cove: Every theme park seems to have a water park these days, and Indoors Land isn't one to be left out of a crowd! All panhandlers are encouraged to bring their swim-rags, because they're in for one wet, wild time! Leaky Roof Cove offers attractions like...
Slippery wet floorInoculation Aisle: This is the kiddy area of the park. The little homeless boys and girls could go here and get such fun vaccines as...
Dangerously cold water
Hepatitis a and c
AIDS (Just kidding, Irving "Magic" Johnson!)
Small, as well as various other, pox
Of course, since this is a theme park, none of these would be real. All syringes would be filled with water, bleach, or air. The kids can use their imagination to pretend they're safe!
The park would be a huge hit with homeless people. The ragged bums would come in droves, but they wouldn't go to it to have more fun. Just less misery. Until I get this project developed though, they're going to have to stick to hating the world and everything in it. Which is fine by me, because that bonding with the homeless theory was based on me being rich, which I'm not. So I still hate hobos with all my heart and soul. To summerize, cities are bad, hobos are worse, and you are a horrible person if you laughed at any of the jokes I just made. And if you didn't, then I'm a horrible hack!
Sometimes I dream that I'm sitting in the back of the defunct Weinermobile as it careens driverless down the highway. At first I thought this was symbolic of the powerlessness I feel in life, but then I realized it's actually the Weinermobile's dream of being able to drive again.
Three years ago, when we were burying my uncle, Cleaver and some gross lady dog (Solstice???) showed up at the cemetery and starting going at it really loudly. It ruined everything and we had to have a "re-do" the next day and it cost a fortune. I've hated him ever since for that.
Ignore the hype. Find out how these games will likely go right or wrong.
The Something Awful front page news tackles anything both off and on the Internet. Mostly "on" though, as we're all incredible nerds.