T-Bone is everywhere because he lives nowhere

Last night I was with some friends and we saw T-Bone, the homeless man who wandered into the fishbowl one fateful night and told me he wanted to learn about computers.
Had we all openly shared our actual past experiences with this man, our exchange would have gone like this:
One friend said, 'Awww, man, that guy sleeps in my apartment's hallway.'
The other one said, 'That guy had sex in my apartment's laundry room.'
And I said, 'I showed that guy pornography and then he asked me if I had AIDS.'

Then this morning a coworker came in late because T-Bone was sleeping in her hallway and she had to wait for the cops to arrive and shoo him away.

This guy's like a celebrity, only he's not rich and he doesn't have a mansion (or even a condo!).

No real point to this, other than to say 'Wow, homeless guy, you sure are busy. What with all the sleeping and sexing and porno-watching. Good for you.'

(Out.)

I think about homeless people a lot, and I think there isn't really much left for me to say about them. They smell bad and they're usually drunk. Sure, there's that tragic aspect of them that includes facts like "Nobody cares about them" and "They have sad stories" but I don't care about that stuff because if someone smells awful and bothers me, then I'm not going to ask any more questions. You're already on my shit list, mister, so you should go sleep in your box and leave me alone.

I think I'm going to litter every away message with links to other stuff so that you have to click on eight things to understand one sentence. This is an internet technique known as "being a dickhead" and it's popular on websites such as Metafilter.com. (Also, for the record, I like MeFi, I just don't like clicking fifty links to get one joke.)

Anyway, I just wanted to catch everybody up on my hobo fixation. I think I've done that pretty well. Also this was another night where I came home drunk and decided to update the ol' blog. I imagine Hemingway would have done the same if he was around right now. But if Hemingway was around right now he'd be a freaking zombie and we'd have to chop his head off.

Do you have any idea how much money Hemingway's zombie head would go for on Ebay? No you don't, because a number that high hasn't even been invented yet.