The Many and the Few in Hell

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"Oh, Hobobob, you lead such a happy-go-lucky life. I wish I was you!"

Oh boy. Here's someone else that has no clue what life is like in my little corner of Hell. Don't feel bad dude, I hear this more often than you know, and that's because you hate your life. You just want a change. You just want to say: FUCK THIS SHIT! You want to put everything down, take a jacket and your wallet, and disappear from everything. The wife, the kids, the house on the hill, the two cars, the dog, the cats the riding lawnmower and the cute little windmill in the front yard of a duck whose wings are propellers in the wind.



Yeah, I know how you feel, but once again, you don't want to be me. Here, let's go over this one more time: The Patented 'Do you and Can You BE HOBOBOB Game Show! Alright come on down! Stand before the podium here and lets get started for a grand prize of absolutely nothing which we here at HoboStudios love to call the ASS-PRIZE. Well, if you play this game, you have to accept what people will call you. So why not have an award at the end to make it all official.



So now lets get started and introduce our Master of Ceremony, Wink Martindale! (APPLAUSE, APPLAUSE, APPLAUSE). Wink comes dashing down from backstage and stops at the podium, raising his hand and waving at the audience. "Hey everybody, I'm Wink Martindale and I would like to thank you all for coming to the show this evening where we have our player here today wanting to see if he can be Hobobob for the rest of his life. So let's get started and see if our contestant will win the ASS-PRIZE tonight!"



Wink looks at you. "Well, we'll just dispense with the intro- ductions and get right down to it shall we? Question number one: can you envision yourself fired from work, and if you can, can you envision yourself telling your wife and family that you have been?"



That was easy for me. I had neither of either. No wife or family. No one that would really care, other than a friend of mine that was couch-surfing with me at the time. Who therefore totals no one that I was responsible for.



Wink flips to the next card. "How long do you think you can keep your house, cars, bills paid and family fed and clothed until you can find another job, since you cannot collect unemployment?"



For me, this was almost imme- diately. I was being dragged into eviction court before two weeks elapsed. I was just barely living. No electricity, no gas, nothing in my apartment, not even food, and the sheriff was to drop by any day to boot me out on my fat ass. I packed all my shit into boxes and put it all in storage. Then I bailed. Yep, I was out and in the streets in no time. The most upsetting time in my life.





I was going to try to stay in the back seat of my car but that would be impossible actually. I had lost my license so I couldn't even drive it around to here or there to keep things going, such as keep gas in the bitch. I could not take showers, or get to places where I could change my clothes without mobility. I couldn't stay in New Jersey because of lack thereof, and could not take my car with me to New York either. So, I became homeless without it.



Wink shakes his head, "Tough break Hobobob," then to the contestant. "Alrighty then, next question: You have a duffel bag, can you pick out only what you need or can carry with you from all of your material possessions and place them in your bag. Everything else is to be auctioned off or incinerated? Do so now. You have three hours!"



Now that was a tough one. There was just so much that I couldn't stand to lose. The worst of it all was my library. I was pretty proud of a decent sized library of books that I had collected since I was in High School. A very presentable library with some very erudite books. A fabulous collection. One of my Alters was a librarian or professor or something like that who loved books because he kept collecting them to where I was running out of wall space to place them. Yeah, my library was the hardest thing to leave behind.



When you are going to live on the streets, you have to be practical. You pack clothes and toiletries. You pack as if you are going on a weekend trip. You need it to be light, so you would not take your television, instead you take what's practical. Since there is no electricity that you can use, you would not take your television. You have to have a little foresight, so you have to remember that there will be no roof over your head or furniture, so you would NOT TAKE YOUR TELEVISION, DAMNIT! After clothes, shoes, tolietries, the bag is heavy enough. The rest, you take at your own suffering. All the photos that you've accumulated of your family and fun times. Gone. Your record collection, your good suits. Gone. Your china, silverware, Playstation game. GONE, GONE. GONE. All gone.You'll even forget to take your jewelry so that you can hock shit. All of it will go and be used by someone more fortunate. Say goodbye to your life.



Wink flips to another card. "What a bitch, right?!" He laughs. The sign over his head flashes at the audience (LAUGHTER, LAUGHTER, LAUGHTER). The audience laughs, before he reads the next card. "Can you envision losing that very same duffel bag with all your shit in it three months into being homeless along with your wallet and ID?"



Who are you trying to be? Funny? Yeah, that's funny. It's as if the universe is fucking with you. Not only do you lose everything that you own, you lose the little shit that you do take along with your ID, credit cards, library cards, Social Security card...everything. You are now rendered invisible. What do you do with your life now?



"Shit Hobobob, cut with the commentary," Wink complains. "You'll kill the audience's fun." Well, that may be Wink, but it's time for a commercial break and station identification. So, let's take five. Wink, not losing a step, waves his cards at the television camera and smiles. "So now we'll take a break and get back to more of the 'Do you and Can You BE HOBOBOB Game Show!"



Sorry gang, we'll stop right here for this post and take a break. It's making me bitter going over this. It's making me angry that I was singled out. I mean, look at me. I was NEVER a bad guy. In fact, I went out of my way to follow the Ten Commandments, to be a good person, to help people in need. To play my part in making this a better world. And what do I get for all my hard work? Did I get what I deserved? I mean, with Facebook, all of my High School friends are touching base with each other. They all have their wives, children, homes, jobs, blah, blah, blah. All of them are middle America. All of my friends over the years have found their little niche in suburbia. Every one I've met and known outside of the homeless community are part of our vibrant society.



NO ONE has ended up like me that I've known. No one. I have not one person to understand what I'm going through on a daily basis. And I have myself to blame for that. I've been systematically cutting myself off from everyone. I'm walling myself in my own tomb. If it was not for this fucking blog, where the fuck would I be? Dead or something? Some kind of Skel on the street. Walking about in exhausted clothes, soiled and blackened with filth. A knotty afro and huge puffy beard, smelling like shit because of not washing my feet, and walking the streets barefooted. I would be a fucking mess.



If not for this blog, I would be very much alone. And now I'm far from it aren't I? Now I can actually see that my tears and screams do not fall on deaf ears. You may think me crazy, but when it comes to people I generally tend to cut off my nose to spite my face. I really do. I fuck my own shit up. It's not because I hate myself or others. I just do it. I need pain. I feed off it. It causes more Alters to spring up anyway, which is comforting because it's hard to feel alone when you have a party going on in your own head.



Case in point. I was looking at my blog numbers early in the month and where the people were coming from. They were coming in from Google Search engines, searching for photos. Most of them coming for the few more sexually explicit photos in just a couple of blog posts. It seemed to me that a lot of people were like me, just surfing the web for porn pictures. Like I'm here making exclusive content that you can't get anywhere else. I get it from the web just like they do.



Well my monthly numbers were pretty high due to them, so I wanted to see who was coming solely to read me. So at around 4200 hits a month I stopped with the sexually explicit photos. Not altogether but I had cut down DRAMATICALLY. I self censored myself, which really pissed me off mind you. I swore to never do that. But if you are coming here just to pull porn pictures, fuck you. You're probably punk kids anyway that can't read my fucking disclaimer in the front of my blog. Or that just may be the reason why you are here in the first place. So I stopped feeding the animals.



The number one most hit post during the week fell from the predominately porn filled posts to others. Others without porn photos at all. At this point, I was certain that my hit rate would fall, along with my unique hits. But no, it jumped to over 4300 hits that week. Also the search terms shifted because I stopped using the words Clit and Assfinger. So people had nothing to search to bring them back here (oh, maybe I shouldn't have used them here! Well, that's alright, they can check out the 'Do you and Can You BE HOBOBOB Game Show! instead).



Then I was certain that there would be a change. The numbers rose to over 4400 hits then dipped down to 4300. That was the first sign that my readership had plateaued. I'm thinking now that it would fluctuate between 43 and 4400, but no, during the Christmas week it shot up to over 4600 hits with all the number one posts without porn content. The page-views are jumping around an average of 300 hits a day now. This is like a hundred times my hit rate when the radio show was aired. My largest audience ever at that time.



Also, I think I'm on a shit load of RSS feeds and Blogger Followers, but most of my followers DO NOT WANT TO BE IDENTIFIED with reading this blog. That's why they follow incognito or RSS feed me, so that no one will know. I'm probably erased off their histories once a week too from their job or den computers. I'm their dirty little secret. I don't mind though. I like to talk trash, filth as my mother would say. Like I say, I hear it from someone's mouth, it splashes on my blog. I like to think that I say what others are thinking, they just wouldn't post it to a blog!

Another interesting tidbit about being a blogger of such a dirty little mind is that 86 hits this week, an entire 6% of my weekly total comes from portable devices. You know, Blackberry, Ipods, Ipads, Playstation portables...all hand helds. And the highest hit rates come in the commuting hours, lunch hours and pre-primetime hours. Then my overseas hits come streaming in after 11:00 in the evening. Wow, right? People are taking the time to squeeze me into their busy schedule. Hobo like.



But there you have a prime example of me trying to manipulate my demo- graphic. Something that I not only said that I don't do, but something I swore never to do! Now I feel fraudulent. I feel like I'm letting my more hardcore readers down with my pussy posts lately. Yeah, I called them pussy posts. So? Now I'm pissed more with myself for that than if I posted something insulting. But like I said: I usually tend to cut off my nose to spite my fucking face.



To this extent therefore I swear to leave my demographic the fuck alone, and to go back to pornography photos, dirty speech, rotten opinions, lousy commentary, shitty arguments, fucked up reasoning, and generally rude, crude and socially unacceptable blogging! I plan from this point on to send a memo to all of my Alters that help me write this piece of shit blog, to go back to proudly making this the best piece of shit blog to ever be read by anyone! To be the best blog ever written by a homeless man with no job, no money, no prospects, and no life.

This is a promise from me to you fair reader.

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