on the wonders of hobo cooking

warning: if you are about to eat something delicious, do not read. if you have a mouth filled with soda, water, or wine, do not read.

last evening as i was going to our rite aid to procure some of gallo's finest wine-flavored water, i happened upon one of the local bums.

now, i don't have a problem with transients at all. in fact, i liked to believe that i had a fair understanding of their politics & plumage while living in west l.a.

however, what i do have a problem with is public defecation. it is never a crowd pleaser.

so -

after crossing the street, i stepped onto the sidewalk, passed a few buses waiting departure, and looked to the bench. my eyes find a bum, cleaner than most, placing ever so gingerly a turd between the crevice of what seems to be a fresh hotdog bun.

???

to be sure, rachel ray shed a tear wherever she was. i gagged but for a second & then began giggling to myself thinking about hobo iron chef. "today, we fight the battle of the shoestring! the battle of the pigeon! the battle of the cigarette butt!"

[bad dubbed voice] "oh, isn't that splendid - lefty is making shoestring spaghetti with butt sauce. quelle technique! no, is that a breast of pigeon i see? surely he isn't risking pigeon beak mash as his desert!"

witnessing this definitely made the cheap wine go down better. that is for sure.