because there's always something between there and home
This was from the bus last week as I watched this dude
totally making a move on some lady who totally was unaware
that she was about to be molested.
Last night/this morning I whistled while
waiting for the night-shuttle bus. For ~a half hour.
This may have been the highlight
of the non-research aspects of his weekend.
I believe I said it best when sending a
...wireless internet based message to my brother:
Someone's gonna get tuberculosis from the gross hobo on the bus. It is like all the people out tonight have neurosyphilis--and they all talk like the assistant coach from Waterboy...
(next message, about 10 minutes later)
Seriously, it must be gibberish-speaking hobo promnight. There is no other explanation for this critical mass. Maybe a beer-wagon blew up in a pot-plot in town.
(basically I should just play thorough when working nights
instead of going home late/early.
Also, every day here reminds me that I need to earn enough
to live on my own island. Lessons learnt.)
Hey smilin strange
You lookin happily deranged
Can you settle to shoot me?
Or have you picked your target yet
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