Pity Party




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When I was little there used to be a homeless guy on a corner
near my house. He would beg for money all day, but his most
wonderful characterisitic was his total lack of arms. He had
nothing past the elbow. We used to call him “stubby”
for that reason.

In all fairness, I think he ruined the begging for everyone else.
I mean, who’s gonna give change to a guy with a grizzled beard
and jeans when they just passed a guy who didnt have any arms?

I really felt sorry for that guy. They did a story on him in the
paper once – I think he could type with little pencil things
strapped to his stubs.

————–

“I can’t stand light. I hate weather. My idea of heaven is
moving from one smoke-filled room to another.”

– Peter O’Toole

————–

The evil beard has come along nicely.


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