Hotel-de-Tramp

Well, another trip has begun and just as always I've found a room in a dumpy little hostel where I can get on a computer for 5 bucks an hour to inform my faithful readers of my grand adventures.

I've made it to my first destination: San Diego. This is my third trip here in my life and I've really enjoyed myself. This time I've been staying in the heart of the city where one is surrounded by classic buildings, a myriad of restaurants and bars and every kind of hobo/bum/street person he could hope to meet.

I've seen a lot of bums in my day. In fact, when I'm traveling I usually live the life similar to a vagabond. However, I've noticed a special bread of street person out here in San Diego. In this place the bums have a keen sense of how sidewalk life must be pursued. Unlike the bums of Chicago or the cities of the northeast, the SO-CAL bums already have an edge up by recognizing that street life is more effective and profitable whilst living in a warm city. Life is always better when the sun is out!

As I walk through the hustle and bustle of the San Diego streets I'm often fortunate to come across all sorts of colorful beggars. There are so many out here and most have thrown out the classic and creative excuses and simply go for a quick "You got any change?" or a slightly more enticing, "I need a quarter for the bus. Can you spare some?"

Since most bindle punks use the same excuses, they have to rely on other pans in order to win the jingling prize hidden deep within all of our pockets. Some have massize shopping carts with tassels and doo dads dangling from every side. Others sport bizarre clothing ensembles that somehow seem to match even though it's quite obvious that every item has a entirely different origin than the next. These are the boes that appear to be the most successful. They aren't tied down to a cart and they don't need to search endless trash cans in the hopes of snatching a plastic bottle or two. These ones use their tact and spunk to win the dimes and quarters of their loyal supporters. These freeloaders are true masters in the art of flim flamery. They are the bread winners of the street community and for that they are certainly a proud breed.

The grease balls are a type of hobo often confused for the true tramps of these great streets. Grease balls steal from other hard working loafers and are often known to toot the ringer if you can believe that. These guys are tricksters who may look like regular hard working hobos, but are actually thieves within their own community. These grease balls are too smart to actually be on the streets and are clearly driven by sheer laziness. For if one is smart enough to outsmart other hobos, that hobo is thus intelligent enough to find a better means of contributing to society. However, the greasers are more inclined to trick and thieve than to really embrace the Happy Hooligan lifestyle. It can sometimes be hard to spot the difference between a Grease ball and a Boe, but when you do you'll feel glad you didn't make the grave error of supporting this shameful lifestyle. The world simply cannot benefit from these tomato-can stiffs.

So while I've obviously been doing a lot more things in this great city, I feel it necessary to give some credit to those "hard-working" men...and a few women, who make their homes throughout the streets, alley ways, and beaches of this fair city. Would the world be better without the hobo? I doubt it. Sometimes life for others can become so monotonous that they forget the path they took from point A to point B. Spotting a tramp, hobo or streety helps us stay awake. They add a bit more color to an already colorful world.

A Monika will often attempt to run the line, but if that scalawag ever wants to find a scenery cruiser he had better get some thin ones by throwing his feet and avoiding the yahoos. Right?