Strange Happenings in Hobo Town: Part 2

As the men rushed at the Skirts, some of the other hobos lept up and charged at the man with the blue skirt. A violent battle ensued, which ended with the Norsklanders being thrown roughly out of the town.

That evening, I stopped at the Pancake Shack on my way home. Hobo Bob invited me into the kitchen while I waited for my food.The town had mostly settled down, and he was telling all of the hobo's who came in about the Norsklanders. He explained that this particular group was an elite branch called the painted ones. Surprisingly enough, they did not use Walruses and Narwhal. He also explained that the clocks had been changed to the Norsklander's time, which was why the clock had been set to 7:89.

In other news, I've been thinking of hitchhiking somewhere for Thanksgiving, so I might not post for a week or so. In the meantime, just look out for anyone with a wooden skirt!

Strange Happenings in Hobo Town: Part 1

I woke up this morning feeling rather groggy, and I rolled over and tried to get back to sleep. Half an hour later I still wasn't asleep, and I had the feeling that something was wrong. Yawning, I crawled out of my box to check the time. (Each street in Hobo Town has its own individual clock)

It was 7:89, a bit earlier than when I usually wake up but not too earl- Wait a minute,  I thought 7:89?!?! I walked over to the clock and tested the paint with my finger. Sure enough, someone had painted over the numbers. As I walked back to my box, I noticed that Homeless blvd. was completely quiet and empty. I didn't even see Mark and Josephine anywhere. Then I noticed a second something. A man in a red wooden skirt coming out of my box. 

"You are the friend of Pancake Hobo?" He eyed me as he spoke, as if he was sizing up my strength.

"Yes...." I replied cautiously.

"Good."

The man lept forward, and thrust a sack over my head. 

When they pulled the sack off of my head, I was sitting on a raised float in Hobo Square. There was a blue-skirted man speaking loudly into a crowd of people wearing wooden skirts. (These skirts were beginning to wear me thin. Don't these people know that cutting down trees isn't good for the environment?)

Hobo Bob was on my left, and a man I did not recognize was on my left. All around us were the people of Hobo Town.

Mr. Blue Skirt was yelling into the crowd in a foreign language. Just then I saw a movement in one of the nearby Manor Size boxes. Suddenly, men were rushing at the skirts from all directions. 

"For Armaj!" they yelled.

Election and the Quest for a Bigger Box

Yesterday (as I hope you know) was the election for U.S. President. Naturally, I voted for the Hobo Party. Once again, they were crushed by the Democrats and the Republicans. The reason I didn't mention the election in the last post is because voting, for some reason, closes late in Hobo Town. So, I ended up voting after I did the last post.

That aside, I have joined the Hobo Blogring! It is a collection of Hobo Blogs that have joined into a group. All of the blogring blogs are easily accessible from the links at the bottom of this page or from the blogring blog which is here. The blogring is open to new members, so if you have a hobo blog you can email it to hobobob@hobobobspancakeshack.com and he will add it. 

On to what happened today. I woke up in the morning to the sound of something outside. I yawned and attempted to stretch, but my arms could not go farther than a few feet in each direction. I remembered the size of the box and I crawled outside. It was a warm morning, and the sound that had woken me was Mark and Josephine (Hobo Bobs two anteaters) rolling rocks into a wall. I passed them by and headed for the dump in hope of finding a bigger box. 

The dump did not have any boxes near the size of a hobo. They were all just those little shipping boxes used to send CD's and things like that. 

Sadly, I trudged towards the Pancake Shack in hope of getting at least a good breakfast out of the morning. I don't know why, but for some reason I took a side street to get there. As luck would have it, I saw an out of town looking person standing next to a large 5X5 meter box. He had a sign attached. "4 sale cheap!" The sign read. 

Quickly I ran over to the man and asked him how much. 

"2 dollars," He informed me. "I just found it lying here."

    I hurriedly paid him and lugged the surprisingly heavy box back home.

I opened it and found.... a TV! Attached was a note:

"Thank you for purchasing this Box from Hobo Suppliers. Included is a free TV and antenna. Our company strives to make everything affordable for hobo's in need. 

Thank you!

Sincerely,

Everyone at Hobo Suppliers."

So here I am in my new box with Hobo News playing on the television. Oh, and I gave Zells old box to Mark and Josephine.

First Day in Hobo Town

Hello, my name is Hobo Jim. I'm pretty much a regular hobo, but I have a great dream. I want to start a noodle shop. Okay, not such a great dream, but you got to keep things in comparison. I think it is a pretty good dream for a hobo.

Anyway, today was my first day in Hobo Town, Alabama. I had come here because I had heard that it was easier for a hobo to start a business here than it was in other places. So, always looking for opportunity, I jumped on the nearest train to Hobo Town. Literally. 

After a couple long nights of avoiding the conductor, I arrived at the Hobo Town station. I was immediately granted with the sight (and smell) of a Pancake Shack. Hobo Bob's Pancake Shack, it was called. I had a few dollar bills that I had found on the street, and I was very hungry, so I walked into the shack. It was amazing. The prices were low, the food was excellent, the waiters were polite; that was probably the best eating experience I have had since my granny's apple pie. Stomach full, I set off in search of a box. As darkness closed in, I turned down a road marked as 'Homeless Boulevard'. 

Most of the boxes were taken, but there was one small one with 'Z3ll' painted on the side. It looked unowned, but there were blankets and a pillow inside. I wasn't sure whether to take it or not. Just then I heard a voice behind me.

"You can take that box. Zell moved out a couple weeks ago."

I jumped and spun around. A bearded hobo entering the next-door box was the one who had spoken. I thought I had seen him somewhere before, but I didn't know where. 

"I'm Hobo Bob." he said.

Instantly I knew where I had seen him: In a portrait in that Pancake Shack. He was a nice guy, and he invited me in for lemonade. He then gave me a full description of his Pancake Shack and it's history. He also told me to look out for the Norsklanders. He proceeded to give me an overview of the internet and blogging after I told him about my dream. He even gave me an old laptop and access to his internet connection. So, here I am, next door to my neighbor and new friend typing this post. However, the election is showing for free at the local theatre, so I have to go watch that.