Tag Archives: crime

Hobo Wars Episode 5: The Bumpire Strikes Back

03 May 2009

In my previous article I stated that the homeless would not fuck with me again.   Right now I am sad to report that those words were a tad bit premature.   Now I know how Bush felt when he addressed the US a few months into the Iraq War with a giant ‘Mission Accomplished’ banner in the background; that, by the way, he totally knew nothing about.  You see, I failed to listen to the sage advice of many famous tacticians from the past.   That advice was, simply, don’t pick fights with people who have nothing to lose because there is nothing to be gained from fighting them and no way to make them stop.   The homeless, apparently, couldn’t care less if you stink up their little hobo carts and they don’t seem to mind too badly if you throw them out.    They’ll just find another cart to steal and fill with random junk and garbage, and bring it back.   Frustrating, kind of like a mongrel dog you just want to go away, so you pitch a stick and the ugly thing just keeps bringing it back no matter how many times you throw it into traffic.

The battlements of the mighty Hobocity.

So, it seems that I have underestimated my homeless foes, and that they have decided to strike back by forming a grand hobo armada in the back of the building.  As I write this, there are probably somewhere in the neighborhood of 15-20 homeless people living in the lot behind they building.   They have gloriously erected a testament to the times which I lovingly refer to as ‘Hobo City’  or as one of my co-workers called it ‘Bum Fest 09.’  Hobocity is a wondrous place, where the denizens can enjoy all the perks of their downtown location, stinky old blankets adorn the fences of the lot to mark their turf, they have plentiful stolen lawn chairs on which to sit all day and contemplate things like cannibalism and optimal change harvesting locations, a nice building to use as a bathroom, and they proudly send hobo war parties out to collect change and food as well as cash registers.   You heard me.   Cash registers.   This homeless army has got ridiculous.   I thought it was bad when I first wrote about it but holy shit it’s turning into a regular sitcom.  So get this, a couple of days ago several of the hobos from hobocity wandered to a business that is literally 50 feet from the lot they are staying in, shoved their way through lines of waiting customers, and fucking grabbed the cash register and walked out like they owned the fucking thing! 

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The New American Dream

22 Mar 2009

For a long time the neighborhood in which I am currently occupying was ran by a board of directors consisting of annoying and bothersome old people who felt the need to intervene on everyone’s decisions as to the appearance of the property that they, most of the time, actually owned. It’s a fascinating thing, the American Dream, you search for it and when you finally obtain the very thing that you had been seeking you immediately find ways and excuses to project your ‘sensible’ notions on why every house should be a boring gray with white curtains and fretting over cats walking across your lawn.   Now, when I refer to the American Dream, I’m talking about a family, a retirement, a nice house or condo in a quiet neighborhood and, with any luck, a white picket fence.   Maybe a chance to grow old and sit on your lawn and lazily yell at young people to get the hell off said lawn and quit drawing penises on your lawn gnomes with a sharpie.  These notions of the ideal existence were what was shoved down the throats of suckers during the, what I lovingly call, the ‘old days,’ which roughly consists of all the time prior to the date I was born.  The thing was, in chasing the American Dream, most people were broken, or didn’t like what they had built up to turning into a royal hassle, or didn’t like what they became in the process.

This article is about those people, because, somehow, this neighborhood is a net for those kinds of people.   Those from the older generations that may have tasted the American Dream, and then… lost it.   This neighborhood, with it’s ugly gray condos stacked uniformly with it’s ugly bushes and ugly walls that reek of plainness as it seems to me, has always looked like the kind of place place that the old go… not to retire, but to linger through the last of their days till they keel over and die.   I know, I know… that sounds terrible.   Think about it this way, most of these people are already dead on the inside!  You say that doesn’t make you feel better?   Well, I guess you can’t please everyone. My point is that they very boring, very old, and very nosy people have managed to keep this neighborhood safe from most of the problems of the Orlando sprawl simply by it’s intrinsic nature.   The moment some kinds wandered in the cops were tipped off right away, the moment someone yelled, cops called.  Pretty much if you were making more noise than it takes to knit, you had the cops called on you.   This is good for me, in a way, because I make hardly any noise at all.   This bad for, say, any college kids that want to throw a party or anyone selling drugs out of their houses.

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Random Quote

Ever since I was a child I have had this instinctive urge for expansion and growth. To me, the function and duty of a quality human being is the sincere and honest development of one’s potential.

— Bruce Lee