The Pink Flamingo Hobo Marching Band (655 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.93 on 17 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by charminglybeef (View user info) at 2007-04-26 02:10:53 EDT
Test.
This is only a test. Of the live internet stream. That's right -- it's smaller than a river but larger than a creek. Or maybe the other way around. Doesn't matter.
Doesn't matter because here it is:
Yep.
Right there.
The Live Internet Stream. And what does a stream do? Well, it flows. Or does a stream run? Or does it walk? Pout? Shiver? Giggle? Babble? No -- Brooks Babble. Streams giggle.
Giggling yet?
Don't worry, me neither.
I'm smiling. With enormous teeth. Over-sized teeth and all of my limbs are rubber and I'm sitting in the back of a pickup truck, waving at you as I'm being carried away slowly down a dusty desert highway, the sun setting at my back.
AND YOU, YOU'RE A HOBO.
But like, a caricature of a hobo. Floppy hat, floppy boots, coveralls, absence of front tooth, strong stick with kerchief tied to end full of belongings, longing wandering heart.
And you're fucking sad, man. You've got that sad hard look on of the desert hobo who's just lost his best friend. And you're fucking sad, man.
At the fact that I'm driving away and there's country music playing and a hound dog howling and my novelty limbs are smiling and waving at you and it seems the ultimate insult to your sorry, homeless, desert predicament.
So you do the only thing you can do: you set out for water in the open night, which is at this twilight quickly cooling.
...
Not like, Miles Davis Cool -- Below Freezing Cool.
Which, no offense to Miles Davis, is much cooler than him. Believe it. Believe it as you meander out through the sagebrush and reddish sand and rattlesnakes and scorpions and mountain lions and Mexicans.
Believe it as you prepare for yet another day doing the only thing you know how and which just today you thought you'd never have to do again: survive on your wit alone.
Squeeze coyote poo for water.
Mend your pants with the needle and thread of the asentero cactus.
Intoxicate yourself with the glandular secretions of the slain oaxacol desert rat.
There's a reason people call them trips. It's because there's really no other good word for them. You go somewhere, and then you come back. You experience some new things. You return with a few less brain cells. Then you sit at your desk and wish you could go back to the warmth and palm trees and singing nerve endings forever as you stare instead at a computer screen and read shitty things like this and pretend to care about socializing with your coworkers...
Sorry. My apologies. Not you!
not. you.
You're a hobo.
Never worked a day in your fucking life, ya fucking hobo.
"Me," and he jerked his over-sized thumb to his chest, "I'm a real fucking hard werkin' Amurican. Put two fucking kids through college doing live sex shows."
Great work, if you can do it. I mean, shit, surely not for everyone! But if you can get over the awkwardness and just go out there and enjoy the dripping lust-slash-envy all around you as you jack-hammer some girl hotter than you ever could in real life, then shit -- it's a GREAT fucking job.
How I met Tina.
Big-tittied squirting slut she is. (Loving devoted mother as well.)
Yes, people have such dirty secrets.
(I mean, Tina, children!? Who would have thought!?)
No, seriously. My work secret. Seriously. And we all have secrets like that. So when you ride the bus, hobo, do you ever take a good look at the people around you and realize that they have such awful dirty secrets, just like you, hobo?
Things that if you knew, they might consider killing you for. Or maybe themselves. Or at the very least moving away. Or maybe just crying. In public.
Which, I mean seriously, is so socially inappropriate.
Can you imagine crying in public? Like, for real? I mean sure, we all do it every now and then just to make people feel us -- to impress our existence upon the world. When we feel like people are ignoring us. But who does it for real?
Anyone?
You ever cry in public?
Oh no, not you, hobo. You're far too hard. ened. Far too hardended. All those days drinking coyote poo have hardended you right the funk up. You cried once. Once in your entire life.
Do you know when it was? It was when I said good-bye, hobo.
It was when I said good-bye.
It was right now.
User Reviews
Submitted by Fey (user info) at 2007-04-29 12:05:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Wow.
Submitted by ih8u2man (user info) at 2007-04-26 21:49:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by experima (user info) at 2007-04-26 21:39:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by DCWoody (user info) at 2007-04-26 18:48:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2007-04-26 15:58:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
:)
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2007-04-26 15:58:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I dunno man, Miles Davis is pretty fuckin cool
Submitted by TheUniter (user info) at 2007-04-26 14:04:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by scourge (user info) at 2007-04-26 11:07:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
interesting. certainly better than the rest of the front page.
Submitted by Coyote (user info) at 2007-04-26 14:01:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
hobos can take vacations too!
Submitted by JoeyG (user info) at 2007-04-26 11:39:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Aces..
Submitted by scourge (user info) at 2007-04-26 11:07:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
interesting. certainly better than the rest of the front page.
Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2007-04-26 10:08:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
That's a great band name.
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2007-04-26 09:29:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
So when you ride the bus, hobo, do you ever take a good look at the people around you and realize that they have such awful dirty secrets, just like you, hobo?
===
Yes. Yes, I do. I also giggle and cry in public.
Submitted by Zebra (user info) at 2007-04-26 03:01:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I wanted to like this more than I actually did.
But you can blow, baby.
"Don't play what's there, play what's not there."
Submitted by Circe (user info) at 2007-04-26 02:31:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
One day, if I get good enough, if i stop being crap and mediocre, I want people to read my stuff the way I read yours - with total focus and miserable envy, mouthing the words because the way you put them together feels good against the lips and tongue.
Submitted by rob_berg (user info) at 2007-04-26 02:24:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
hobo.
Submitted by charminglybeef (user info) at 2007-04-26 02:17:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Cheers, Stagger.
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2007-04-26 02:14:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
What's cooler than Miles Davis? Ice Cold.