Polular Hobo has a HOPELESS ADDICTION! PLEASE HELP.

When I left rehab 3 weeks ago I knew that there was a beer sitting in the cooler of the 7-11 with my name on it. That's okay...I really don't drink that much...2, 24 oz. cans of Steel Reserve 211 per day.

I also knew that if I wanted, I could scope out some illegal drugs. I didn't crave nor did I entertain that idea.

My problem of addiction arrives in a different form. The object of my personal addiction happens
to drive a black and white po-leece car. She stands about 5'7" and she is a beauty queen with a bdge and gun!

Damnit...I"M IN LOVE OUT HERE AND I DON'T QUITE KNOW HOW TO MANAGE THIS SITUATION!This is NOT FUNNY.

I saw her yesterday and I was up all night long thinking about her...strategizing a plan to make her my wife! Real talk. I told her straight up that BABIES ARE GOING HAPPEN...whether she likes it or not, she's eventually gonna realize that she needs a shopping cart pushing hobo man to be her husband! I promised to her that I will buy a car, get a job and get my teeth fixed.
(I used to be a handsome man.)

The truth is very real and very simple.I know what I need and I'm gonna make her mine!
Believe it!

Of course anything/everything that may transpire between myself and this law enforcement  love goddess will happen on her terms. She just doesn't quite realize how good hobo love can really be. :)

Popular Hobo has a HOPELESS ADDICTION...PLEASE HELP!!

When I left rehab 3 weeks ago I knew that there was a beer sitting in the cooler of the 7-11 with my name on it. That's okay...I really don't drink that much...2, 24 oz. cans of Steel Reserve 211 pethat day.
I also knew that if I wanted, I could scope some drugs. I didn't crave nor did I entertain that idea.

My problem of addiction arrived in a different form. The object of my personal addiction happens
 to drive a black and white po-leece car. She stands about 5'7" and she is a beauty queen with a badge and gun! Damnit...I"M IN LOVE OUT HERE AND I DON'T QUITE KNOW HOW TO MANAGE THIS SITUATION!
This is NOT FUNNY.
I saw her yesterday and I was up all night long thinking about her...strategizing a plan to make her my wife!! I told her straight up that BABIES ARE GOING HAPPEN...whether she likes it or not, she's eventually gonna realizer that she needs a shopping cart pushing hobo man to be her husband!
The truth is very real and very simple.
I know what I need and I'm gonna make her mine!
Believe it!
Of course anything/everything that may transpire between  myself and this law enforcement  love goddess will happen on her terms. She just doesn't quite realize how good hobo love can really be..

Good Evening, Ladies and Gentleman...Its Time Another Amazing News Update from Hoboville!

Perhaps I should begin this report by explaining to you why I was unable to update my blog over
the past couple of months. After the local hobos "found" stole my last Macbook, I became very
frustrated.  Soon after that, I got arrested and the cops impounded my big suitcase which contained
my entire friggin Popular Hobo recording studio.

Its a shame too, because during those few weeks, I was getting myself into more trouble and
 bullshit than I ever do. I wasn't exactly on a crime wave but perhaps I was a little annoying.
 Ummm...no I take that back--I was annoying. You know you're not in good standing with the
po-leece when they send out the female cop thug squad to wipe up the lawn with your drunken ass.
I wasn't too drunk however to feel her standing on top of me while I was in handcuffs.

First one boot and then the other and while I laid there on my back, I began to slide down the hill.
She rode me all the way down the 20 foot long grassy knowl/hill like a surf board in front of Band of America.

The image of her huge scary self standing over my helpless, harmless 150 lbs of adorability
while she chewed on a fat cuban cigar is the stuff that makes for high quality television entertainment.
Btw,that's just one brief incident among several in those 8 or 10 weeks since I last made an update.

Okay, I'll stop whining about the cops.In all fairness,and I've always said it,the cops in Mira Mesa
are nice people...patient as well.

There's a lot more to talk about and share with you and its on a positive note. Right now however I'm unsure where I'm gonna go and do... Stay tuned. I'll be back soon.

Just When I Start 2 Make $$$$ the PO-LEEECE CUM and BLOW IT UP!!!!!!

From the very first day I ever began panhandling/flying a sign to make some hobo cash I always put my own little innovative bullshit/spin on what I do. My signs were always a bit cuter than the other bums.... I like to draw little hearts on my signs because not only do the females like to see that  but most sincerely I TRULY FEEL GRATEFUL IN MY HEART when a person gives my hobo ass a dollar or some food or whatever they offer to me.

Well my innovations have become off the chain....over the top....absolutely original and  more profitable than I dare speak of!


I had drunken David Mick work the sign.... "MY FRIEND SCOTT ALLEN IS DEAD....
 PLEASE DONATE IF YOU WILL SO THAT WE CAN GIVE HIM A DECENT BURIAL."

David was walking up and down the median while I was lying on my back with my arms folded across my chest like a dead man. Cash money WAS ROLLIN' ...problem is that people were calling 911 reporting a DEAD MAN IS LYING IN THE STREET...

 So here comes 7 cop cars, 2 ambulances, 1 fire engine and I believe the San Diego Cty Medical Examiner (the guy who performs autopsies and shit).

Okay so we stoppd that gig and revised it a bit. We stuffed my sleeping bag with trash and crap and zipped it up so it looked like a body bag.... CASH MONEY was ROLLIN and hwre comes the Po-leeeece AGAIN. THIS TIME THEY PUT ME AND DAVIDE MICK IN HAND CUFFS and werre gonna take put white trash TO JAIL!!!!
Fuck that!!!! I started crying like pussy/wimp and BEGGING THOSE COPS NOT  ND DAVICE

Popular Hobo Does Out-patient Surgery

 

Long long before we even thought about Obama Care, I was performing emergency 

out-patient surgery and other procedures out here in Hoboville

free of charge** for any hobo who needed such care.  

Let me say also, however, that no one could ever accuse me of "practicing medicine without

 a license"! No...medicine is not this. This here is straight-up comprehensive surgery...there ain't 

no medicine involved in what I do whatsoever.

As I mentioned in the preceding segment, I won't treat gunshot wounds and, of

 course, there are many other situations that I won't mess with that require invasive surgery.

For example, whenever Chris White rides up on his bling-loaded Harley Davidson (its a

 girl's Schwinn beach cruiser bicycle), with his entire head lodged far up his asshole, I wince 

in pain from the mere sight of that situation but I wouldn't ever attempt to remove it. 

He apparently enjoys it up there... it keeps the sun off his bald head.   

What you're about to see here, presented in three short videos, is a staple removal operation that 

was long overdue.The longer an idiot, I mean a patient, postpones the task of removing the staples from their healed wound site, the more difficult it becomes to remove them. That's because the body simply grows tissue around the staple and after a while they're encapsulated by tissue/skin and may require a percutaneous cut-down procedure to get them out followed by a couple of small sutures for wound closure.

  

 

In a hospital setting, the patient's head might be secured/strapped down to the gurney with a Velcro strap in order to keep it absolutely still during the delicate procedure. Any transient movements between that of the surgeons hands and the patient's head while the staples are in the grip of the pulling tools, can either re-open the original wound or cause a new tear in the scalp tissue.

 To reduce such risk, I positioned the patient's (numb skull) bone head against the side of that dumpster with my foot to immobilize it and prevent it from wobbling, twitching or trembling while I was prying the legs of the staple apart using two pairs of forceps (cheap-ass pliers from Big Lots). Thus, the staple came out easily with no blood loss/trauma. Because of the graphic and anguishing nature of prying, yanking out that second staple, while the patient was squeeling loudly (like a baby pig) beneath my foot, I decided not to publish the rest of the procedure. As I worked, those delivery truckers stopped their busy work in order to bare witness

 to the amazing surgery I performed.

 I  need to get some business cards to hand out to such spectators. One or two of those 

truckers may have some surgical needs of their own for me to handle.

** In other words, I don't charge excessively high prices for my services. :D  I won't take a hobo's
last $2 (beer money) nor will I ding his credit score if he fails to make a scheduled payment.
But as you can hear in that phone conversation, if a patient shows up at my office and wants this and that, etc and he ain't got no cash money in his hand, I may perform only a portion of the needed procedure and send his broke ass away in agonizing PAIN. Pain is sometimes a good incentive for a person to take care of their bid-nis obligations out here in Hoboville.

Popular Hobo EVICTED from Upscale Gated Community Palace

 Living out here in the streets, its increasingly difficult to find a spot to throw my sleeping bag down and get a full night's sleep without having some security guard (or on occasion, SDPD)waking me up and telling me to move. Some hobos have bicycles and are, therefore, able to set up little campsites in the canyons on the outskirts of town, a few miles away from center city Hoboville where they "work"(panhandle). While they're able to live in peace with the coyotes, rattlesnakes and raccoons and shit/piss like cavemen/cave women and minimize the risk of their stuff being stolen when they leave it at their camp, I much prefer to live within close proximity to the amenities of a modern civilization. I
need a toilet, a water supply, electricity and ideally a free/unlocked wifi signal in order operate...oh yeah...I also need a little tiny piece of flat dry ground to sleep on.

A few weeks ago I moved back into a nice clean 'gated community' (actually its the concrete-walled, steel-gated dumpster pen behind CVS) where I've lived twice before over the past 2 1/2 yrs. Its a lavish upscale 16 x 20 ft. room with clean, like-new concrete floor and walls. The security lights high above on the rear wall provide a warm sunset-like ambient glow not unlike the mood lighting in the sunken living rooms of those million dolla castles up in Rancho Santa Fe. Its an open-air pavilion
(no ceiling) which (depending upon the weather/season) enables a rich and romantic cellustuous** mind-scape into the milky way galaxy when you're laying on your back in your sleeping bag gazing up into the night sky. During the day, especially in the summer, the room radiates like a hot sandy So. Cal. beach or a desert dune.

** I think I just made up that word, BTW. I sounds kinda naughty/sexy and it sounds quite sophisticated when you use it in casual conversation. I suppose it means heavenly, unearthly, dreamlike. But be careful, if you say it to the wrong person you may get your face slapped.)

The place is just sitting empty all year round as CVS prefers to keep their dumpster parked outside the steel gated pen near their rear exit door. This makes sense too as it allows employees to dispose of trash/discarded merchandise quickly and safely from the doorway of their stockroom. If they kept their dumpster in their designated gated pen, they'de have to carry their loads of trash down the 70 foot long concrete ramp walkway leading from their rear exit door to the parking lot and then carry
it another 90 or so feet back to their gated/secured dumpster.

You know this is the sort of room that fast seductions take place in.  Its got that unmistakable quality of peaceful ambiance and privacy which allows the mind to transport into a zone of unrestrained lustful fantasies. As a former disco DJ, I know a thing or two about seductions that happened so fast that the only thing left behind in the aftermath were sometimes a pair of high heels and a pair of pantyhose right there behind the cigarette machine where it all went down!

The best feature of all about this open air palace are its massive, solid, bridge steel constructed security gates.They're painted in a soft desert sand tan tone to match the interior salmon colored walls. These colors were once featured in the Feb.  2006 issue of Popular Home Design.

The first time I lived there, I had a lovely new king sized Serta Perfect Sleeper™mattress in there and I lasted for nearly a month before the guy whom I was sharing it with blew it up by laying up in there all day drunk playing his damn radio too loud.The security guard heard music and opened up the steel door and told him to get out. He dragged that mattress somewhere and used it himself. I returned a week or so later to the dumpster pen quietly with only my sleeping bag and shopping cart and I lived there for 3 more weeks before I was seen leaving the lovely gated community dwelling pushing my shopping cart and was told not to return. (Hobos just weren't meant to sleep in safe clean gated communities or anywhere else.)

Check out this place...here's a quick top-view drawing of it and below are three short video clips
I shot on Eviction Day #3...a day that will live in infamy.

Well since I began the Popular Hobo News and Entertainment blog, my need for a safe and secure storage area and a fashionable broadcast studio became mandatory. As I raided the FedEx dumpster and other nearby dumpsters to find sign building materials and furniture for the news room studio, I needed a place to store these valuable assets. That gated community has never been used to house dumpsters and that's why its been kept in such pristine condition. I credit the CVS store's management for such a prudent decision not to nasty-up this palace with their trash.  Most anyone who steps inside of this room can see instantly that this facility is destined to serve as a more noble and useful purpose than as a dumpster garage.

 As such, I moved into it again. I first began storing my Popular Hobo sign making materials, then I found a big box from which to construct my news desk, then I found a lovely chair etc. etc.
and before long I began sleeping there again. This time however, I secured those big heavy steel gates with my own Master lock to keep those pesky non-English speaking ( illegal aliens?!?!) housekeepers out of my newsroom. They're not bad people...they're just doing their yob!
These guys spend their long days pushing a trash can around the shopping center picking up tin cans to recycle and fetching dumpster treasures like any hobo but because they're doing official work for the property manager, they have a certain arrogance that is bad for us white skinned hobos.

One of them finally snitched on me and thus I was evicted again from the gated community.
I didn't argue or debate the issue; I simply packed up my shit and rolled out of there ASAP.
The supervisor  of the housekeeping crew warned that anything I leave behind will be thrown away.
He then phoned the corp. office for the security guard company and tried to invent a crime scene situation/urgency about it. THAT FUCKING PISSED ME OFF. I was in the middle of hand washing two new pairs of blue jeans and I had no room to take my wash bucket and wet clothes and so I moved them outside the gates and left a note on top of the shopping cart-- "PLEASE DO NOT TAKE OR  TOSS  MY STUFF INTO THE DUMPSTER...I'LL BE BACK SHORTLY, THANKS , SCOTT"

 I then called a taxi cab to come and pick me up to go to my storage place a few miles away to drop off a load of stuff from my shopping cart. Later,I walked 3 miles back to the shopping center where I left my new wet clean jeans and my bucket only to find that those fucking housekeepers had removed my shopping cart/blue jeans. I began a methodical search of every dumpster in the shopping center and after 20 minutes or so, not surprisingly, I found my bucket and jeans clean wet strewn across the bottom of a filthy dumpster. MY FUCKING HEAD IS GOING TO EXPLODE just thinking about this shit!!!!!!!!

As I said, these Mexicans are just following the rules and directions they've been told.

Perhaps its time for ICE to come out here to pay this crew and its supervisor a visit.
No, I'm not gonna snitch on anyone about their legal status--that would be cruel.
The solution to most all of my hobo woes is to just get the hell off the streets.

In the mean time, however, the search for a safe spot to sleep and keep our shopping
carts nearby is a never ending routine that goes on day by day. As for the storage 
of my Popular Hobo news room desk, chair, furniture etc and stacks of marketing supplies,
much of it is still sitting there inside the gated dumpster pen. My news desk was flattened down
and stacked with other cardboard for recycling. That's okay...it was too low and too shaky anyway.
My next news desk will be made of delrin, carbon fiber alloy or titanium and will be cemented into the concrete floor with 4 foot long teflon/titanium tenticles which anchor deep into the ground. It will take a 100 ton bulldozer, a crane and 40lbs of c-4 explosives to move my next news desk.

Here's some video clips I shot on eviction day...