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Mr. Sparkle

The harder I push the mouse button, the better it will work.  The harder I tap the keys, the better they will work.  The faster and better it will work.  I had to sleep outside last night, like how I sleep outside every night, and the hat I wear has plastered the hair to my head.  And my beard is crawling with mites.

It is playoff hockey season, and I just want to check the matchups on the internet, but trust me when I tell you, friends, you would need a hammer to click this stupid mouse today.   I just want to see the gd hockey matchups.  You would be proud to know that there are five Canadian teams going to the playoffs this year, which is as it should be since we invented the game.  Or the natives did, rather, but we are proud to relegate them to their reservations.

The nights aren’t so bad.  There is a barrel we gather around with fire in it.  We burn what we can, which most often is plastic, and as a result, I usually awake with a hacking cough, and with a raccoon nibbling at my bug infested beard.  “Shoo!”  I tell the raccoon, in between coughs.  Then Pete the Dribbler wakes up and is upset.  “Having a big party over there?”  He asks, with not a little indignation.  “No,” I reply.  “I’m just trying to make a sandwich because I’m feeling hungry.”  Pete rolls his eyes.  The only sandwich materials available to us are cardboard and mud.  You ever have a cardboard and mud sandwich?  HAVE YOU!?  Well you don’t know what you’re missing.
We need as much sleep as we can get for the big day of can collecting which lies before us.  With the can money I gather I will have enough to buy either one v. large can of beer and a small tube of toothpaste, or one v. small container of v. strong vodka which Vodka Henry makes in a barrel.  Some say you can die from drinking it, but that is also true about gasoline, and I’m none the worse for wear.  Everything in moderation, as gran used to say.

You should see my sparkling whites.  All the guys are jealous of them.  When I’m feeling down, I like to gnaw on some soft object which I found.  It makes me feel better to gnaw in front of my comrades, with my Sparkles just blinding those poor blinded fools.  One time I snapped up a passing rodent quick as a flash.  Yes, I am developing a reputation out here at the Hobo Camp.

We will be having an office pool with the hockey playoffs.  Our office being the furthermost limit the fire gives off from the barrel.  Sometimes, when Kindling Dave has found a lot of kindling, our office can include up to 50 hobos!  But they can’t all be in the pool.  Just the regulars, thank you.  That’s me, Kindling, Shiftyeyes, Smellbad, Dribbler, Cannycancan, The Murderer, and Sunshine.  Whoever wins will get $5 which is nothing to cough at, unless you have the galloping consumption, then you have no choice.

Otherwise I’m fine. It is so windy here right now you would not believe it.  Just walking outside you are taking your life into your hands, I swear to Alum, which is the God we worship around the barrel.  Some people tell me I should work harder.  I glare at them and think, “My office is also my home.”  But they are not telepathic and so it’s just glaring.

I hope you are well.

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