Hobo, Inc.

He gets to South Station early on Saturday and Sunday mornings and takes out his weather worn piece of cardboard that reads:

Homeless and Hungry – Will work for food

Thank You & God Bless

“Matthew 25:40”

 

And although he really wanted to write “Acts 9:5-6”; the Matthew quote will possibly bring in 15 to 20% more revenue from the schmucks that actually know what it means and that’s damn easy money. Damn easy money.

 

“Help a vet, buddy?”

 

He’s been on the streets for so many years now that it surprises him that he’s still doing it. Sometimes he even feels guilty and that oddly surprises him even more. But it doesn’t stop him.
He does look pathetic, though. Or so he hopes . . .

 

“Any spare change, M’aam?”

 

He’s wearing the same clothes he wore back in ’96, the year he started this whole sham.
The older the clothes, the better he looks, so he thinks.
What a great investment.

 

“Can you help a little bit, sir?”

{a chink in the cup}

“God Bless.”

{Italian shoes, custom-tailored suit, laptop, Rolex and he gives me change. Cheap bastard.)

Hundreds of people an hour, thousands a day and year by year the change adds up.
He thinks, damn I’m smart.
The kids are the easiest; a bit of eye contact with them and he can slow down an entire family.
A little wave, a wink and a nod has been known to fetch half a sawbuck.

But, damn, he’s getting tired.

He rolls up one of his tattered sleeves and gazes at his Breitling Chrono-Matic watch and sees it’s 4:01PM.
Damn, time flies.

He takes his tattered piece of cardboard and skulks back down Atlantic Boulevard, swerves right on East Street where his shiny, jet black, 2006 Lexus is silently waiting.

He sheds the threadbare clothes, a molting snake, shoving the rank threads into the trunk.
He pulls out and drives back down Atlantic Avenue as the lazy, golden sun drips down into the seeping blackness of Boston’s financial district.

It’s been a good day, a very good day and the wife is cooking Coq au Vin tonight.
It just can’t get any better than that, can it?

{This post is loosely based on an actual related story.
Is it true? Who knows? The cynical bastard in me believes that anything is possible in this day and age. Skumsucking people like this do exist.
Should I ever see the bastard, I will lovingly kick him in the junk.
Repeatedly, ad nauseum}

 

~m

 

Asshole

A death row inmate in Ohio feels lethal injection is unconstitutional cruel and unusual punishment.
Cry me a river, asshole.
Let me make sure I am crystal fucking clear on this; he raped and stabbed to death a 14 year old girl in cold blood and is complaining about the way he will die.

It’s cruel and unusual punishment?

Really? Come on, you disgusting cretin.

You are so low in the human decency scale that you’d have to climb a ladder to blow a snake, for God’s sake, you assclown.
You have no voice in this, as far as I’m concerned.
Shut the hell up and just die.
It frosts my stones to no end that we actually entertain the thought, all at the risk of political effin’correctness.
Please excuse my really bad French.

My wife served jury duty last week.
The case she was (almost) selected to serve on was fairly clean cut; a defendant was caught red-handed with handguns and drugs and was supposedly associated with a murder.
22 some odd State Troopers were standing nearby to give their testimony against this slimy piece of shit.
Everyone awaiting a jury appointment was asked a series of questions to rule out bias and impartiality.

“Is there anyone here that has already formed an opinion regarding this case?”

My wife {God love her} raises her hand and is called to the judge’s bench.

The conversation went something like this:

“Mrs. Murphy, you’ve already formed an opinion on this case?”

“Yeah. Guilty.”

“Mrs. Murphy? You’re excused.”

There may have been a bit more conversation but that’s all the ammo I needed to write this post.

What am I missing here?
Our judicial system is on way more drugs than Jimi Hendrix was when he was playing Woodstock.
Really, what am I missing here?
As far as Romell Broom goes, screw him.
I say fry his pussy death row ass . . .
And that’s almost too good for the likes of him.
As a taxpayer, I’m so sick and tired of paying for 3 squares a day, a bed with blankets and a roof over the head of slimebags like this guy.
I rant, therefore, I am.
Pissed? Ayup.
Can you tell stories like this bother me a bit?
Please excuse me while I go and vomit.
~m

Like a Glove

I got this from my good friend Annie.
This will meme me out for a while but this one was damn good . . . and fun too.

These are the rules:
1. Go to the Billboard #1 Hits listings (scroll down and you’ll seen them separated by decades on the left in the sidebar)
2. Pick a year you were in high school
3. Get yourself nostalgic over the songs of that year
4. Pick 5 songs and write something about how these songs affected you
5. Pass it on to 5 more people

 

Fame – David Bowie

What I remember most about this song is its infectious beat.
It had all the elements of a cool funk tune blended seamlessly into a rock anthem. Girls liked to dance to it and us guys used to like to watch.
I also loved the weird vocal stuff Bowie did with his vocals in the studio.
A classic tune for me. I love Bowie.

You’re having my baby – Paul Anka

I’m going to cut to the chase here.
This song buuuhlows and Anka should have had his junk blown off just for recording it. This is a total lameass piece of musical shit.
And that’s giving it something.
This ‘baby’ should have had a clinic visit long before it ever gave birth on the AM airwaves.
This song makes Rosemary’s Baby seem like a Walt Disney character.
Really crass . . . sorry.

The Joker – Steve Miller

“Some people call me the space cowboy yeah
Some call me the gangster of love
Some people call me Maurice
[insert your woo-woo HERE]
Cause’ I speak of the pompetous of love”

When they talk about songwriting it’s all about “the hook”, the line that grabs the listener.
This song had more hooks than my Uncle Bill’s tackle box.
IMHO, when you can combine space cowboy, gangster of love and pompetus ( a word that doesn’t even exist) in one song and make it sound like pure poetry, you’re a frickin’ genius and Steve Miller is damn close.
To this day, Miller remains prolific and ultimately solid as a songwriter.
His melodies will hopefully be around for generations to come.
Aren’t they lucky?
You bet your bippie.

Free Ride – Edgar Winter Group

This song brings me way back.
Remember Tango, Blackberry Brandy and Sloe Gin Fizz?
I used to go to concerts played by popular area bands on Saturday nights at the Middle School in my hometown.
Ah, the memories.
There was usually one stall in the boy’s room coated with Tango splash monkeys by the end of the night.
This song made you feel better even though you were already feeling pretty damn good.
How can you not love that?

You Light Up My Life – Debbie Boone

Another song from the gurgling bowels of some netherworld I’m obviously unaware of.
It even has one of the smarmiest lines of lyrics anyone ever had the sack to write:

“It can’t be wrong, when it feels so right . . .”

It makes me feel better when I make believe the songwriter was talking about sticking his head straight up his ass, an observation this song truly deserves.
If you must know, yes, I’ve played this song for many weddings (and spit anything coming up into an empty Heineken bottle)
(and yes, I’m kidding…I usually vomit after the set, I’m a pro).
The only thing that would have made this song even remotely salvageable is if it were totally re-worked (and I mean totally) by the Talking Heads or Devo.

 

A few songs that didn’t make the list—

We gotta get you a woman – Todd Rundgren (I love Rundgren)

Tears of a Clown
– Smokey Robinson (how can you not like this tune?)

How can you mend a broken heart?
– Bee Gees (I know. Gay.)

Uncle Albert – McCartney (weird tune. that’s me.)

Frankenstein – Edgar Winter Group (albinos just can’t be this funky, he must be an alien)

There’s my list of 5 (+) tunes.
I could go on for days but . . .
I’m not tagging anyone but I’d love to see Hannah, Evyl, Miriam, Yvonne and Zoe do a post.
How’s about it guys?

~m