Nobahdy knows

where da hobo goes

I live in dah ceilin'

behind 'em drop-in

tiles an' shopliftin'

mirrahs

I's ates like ah King

an' they's takes out

me trash each evenin'

I has me twenty telly

an' ah tub or two uh

Ben n' Jerry in me

Rachel Ray tuppuh wares

I's dressed in Walmart's

best an' look all's smart

an' causal in dah light

Then I's come an' go

as pleases now cuz

Nobahdy knows

just how I's does it ;)

08.31.2023

INSIDE Walmart challenge @Hadrianus

It's all one big conspiracy, I tell you. There are 9 billion of us; what are a few blue balls and parched kitties compared to that?

Well, it might not be so important at this very moment since we have toys to play with and, ahem, medicine. Anyway...

The real stuff is always better, is it not? If we continue like this for the next, say, hundred years, we'll certainly go batshit crazy at some point.

You can only take so much plastic into your inner sanctum.

We'd start killing for it, for just one flesh-on-flesh contact; for that connection our bodies make as they rub together.

Friction is more addictive than any drug.

And besides, too much chemical exposure can't be good for the body! Moderation is the best option.

This might not be what you asked for, but it's the best I could come up with.

A bit of humor never killed anybody.

On the other hand—no pun intended—blue balls might.

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