The Age of Hobo
Part Deux

Once again, I could help but mull over the wretched state of mankind. After witnessing one peculiar event, a very powerful hatred began to form inside of me.
The location of the event was the enormous complex which the people of this area refer to as “Wal-Mart.” As you might have already imagined, I did not go there to purchase any sort of good or service. I was merely there as a passive observer. Over time, I had accumulated what seemed to be a countless number of hours wandering its expansive Isles. Oddly, no one seemed to pay any mind to me. It is quite baffling when considering my bizarre eccentricities.
On the particular day of the incident in question, I had lurched into the area where the large flickering plastic devices are kept. Normally I would have continued my endless wandering through the complex, but an extremely obese adolescent male caught my eye. He was engaged in debate with what appeared to be his female parental unit. He was making a passionate appeal to her reason. The only thing that I was able to make out at the time was “World of Warcraft.” There was also something mentioned about an “Upgrade.”
Later in the week I asked of the Shogun of the Dark what is the meaning of “World of Warcraft?” At this point, I could tell that he was about to begin one of his severely long stories. I really wish I had gotten myself a snack beforehand.
“Long ago before the dawn of time as you understand it to be, There was a information network established in this world. Though its original intended use was that of a electronic bulletin board system in which the highly educated could share their research, It had come to be something very different indeed. Over a period of time, gradual increases in technology were made, allowing the grid to function more efficiently. By the time you had escaped from your dark subterranean prison, the Internet had become much more “user-friendly” To be frank, it had evolved to the point where even the stupidest of humans could “log on.”
“Once the number of these idiots had reached critical mass, the content on the Internet became overrun by content that was severely absurd in nature. No longer was it a tool for research. In fact, it had become an evil entity, feeding off the life force of those without the mental capabilities to recognize it for what it was.”
However, another thing you must realize is that those on the other end of the spectrum were not blind as to the nature of the recent developments. Though they were aware of what the grid had become, they chose to continue to writhe in its wretched, God-forsaken sea of depravity. You see, it became well known among the well informed that a select few elite would become masters of the new electronic realm. Their power would be virtually unlimited!”

At this point, I had to stop the Shogun. I simply could not stand to here another word without obtaining for myself at least a modest snack.
When I hear the rest of the story, I will report to you my findings.

The Shogun of The Dark and The Art of Verbal Warfare










One thing the Shogun of the Dark has tried to teach me as of late is that modern humans rarely engage in battles of sword. The most often way that they engage each other is in battles of rhetoric.
However, I have very little understanding of this. In an attempt to better myself, I asked the Shogun if I may attempt to spout insults at him, after which, he may respond in kind. He agreed. I do not believe I did very well, seeing how I have very little previous knowledge of everyday language and customs.

I said unto the Shogun, "You are nothing more than a musty old Nigerian Sword!"

He replied: "And you are nothing more than a diesel powered-cosmic cheese trolley!"

I Said unto him, "You are like an awfully-weak ceramic egg!"

He replied: "You soul is like a fiendishly designed Austrian rabbit-hutch!"

I said unto him, "I would describe you at best as an excruciatingly-gnarled mahogony lampost!"

He replied, "Though you must realize, You are nothing more than a tubular cardboard pariscope."

I said unto him, " You are as insignificant as a neglected underwater Mongolian seismometer!"

He replied, "I could not describe any of your attributes as being superior to a cleverly-dehumidified Venezuelan Hamster!"

I said unto him, "You are a termite infested Albanian Peg-leg!"

He replied, "You are but a self-opening Elizabethan-era horse!"

I said unto him, "You are an excessively sticky Babylonian chair!"

He replied, " But you must realize that you are an illegally reinforced mylar lawnmower!"

I said unto him, " I will disrespect you in the same way that I would disrespect a miniature cast-iron snail"

He replied, "Your severly moronic tendancies are as baffling as a seven-dimensional persian rug!"

I said unto him, " I see you as nothing more than an upsettingly-demolished plastic tape-recorder"

He replied, "You have become quite an irritating little interplanetary crisp-packet!"

I said unto him, "You are a maggot ridden potassium woodlouse!"

He replied: "Youre an awfully-decayed Italian whiteboard marker!"

I said unto him, "The strength of your character is as questionable as a muddy mexican rope-bridge"

He replied: "The quality of your soul is less than that off an unexpectedly-dirty Tasmanian ocarina!"

I said unto him, "You are a substantially-battered Egyptian fiber-optic cable!"

He replied: "You are a grotesque papyrus clutch pencil!"

I said unto him, "You are a digitally-enhanced Victorian reptile!"

He replied, "I dismiss your insults in the same way that I dismiss the breeze from a remarkably-pleasant Hungarian fan!"

I said unto him, "Your idiocy is greater than that of a top-heavy carbon-fiber alligator!"

He replied, "I will disregard you in the same way that I disregard a semi-circular neolithic trowel!"

I said unto him, "You are as worthless as a mass produced flemish telegraph pole!"

He replied, "You are as worthless as a 1970's carelessly smashed up typewriter!"

This went on for quite some time. I dont think I am learning very much at all.

Too Much Weird Shit Has Been Happening Lately

The other night, I decided it would beneficial if I got to bed early. After eating my normal evening meal of raw codfish and miso soup, I went and made myself comfortable on my pile of straw and newspapers in the corner of my domicile.

Sleep came upon me rather quickly, as I made it a point to consume a double ration of the beverage that is described as none other than "Natty Light."

However, the slumber was interrupted.

I came to a state of wakeful awareness in an unusual manner. When I opened my eyes I was standing in the middle of my room. It was very quiet in the house. When I looked upon the wall clock, the time read 3:15 am. Around this time, I am accustomed to hearing the sound of Rodoslav's ghastly night terrors. He is always screaming something. The one that I can most often make out it is... "The Parasites! They are eating my Flesh! Deliver me from this evil in the name of Christ!"

Standing in my room, an odd sensation came over me. I do not think that I can described in any meaningful way. The best way that I can put it is that I felt "compelled" to go downstairs. Somehow, I know that an event of great significance was about to unfold.

Slowly, but surely, I made my way down the stairs. As I progressed, I noticed that I had in a way left my own body. It was if I was following myself by a distance of a few feet. I could do nothing but watch it unfold in the same way that one would watch a movie.

When I got to the living room, I stopped moving. It was at this point when I returned to my body. I was not sure what exactly what was about to happen, but I knew it was going to happen very soon.

The next thing that I observed was that the light in the room began to change. The standard incandescent light that I was accustomed to had begun to shift into an overpowering red glow. Everything was now bathed in a dark shade of red. Then, it seemed as if all the objects in the room were becoming distorted. It seemed that everything had begun to blink in and out of existence. The distortion became stronger and stronger until I could no longer recognize my surroundings.

There was a lapse in my consciousness at this point. The next clear memory that I had is one that I will never forget.

It seemed that I was transported into what I can only describe as another dimension. Of course, it seemed less that I was transported than that this alternate plane of existence came to me.

Now , I was standing In an incomprehensible realm that was beyond not only time and space, but beyond the limits of human cognition. It was a very vast place. However, I did not know where to go, or even if any such movement was possible. Amongst the flickering red light and thick clouds of dark gas, I began to make out a figure. I could not tell if it was materializing, growing, or approaching me. In what seemed to be a few minutes, a strange entity presented itself before me. It looked somewhat like a man, but, there was something.... wrong.

The being began to speak. It talked very slowly, and its voice seemed to be projected at me from all angles
"Do not be afraid.... My name is Thmetul.... Thmetul Nesulehomon..... I am he who is not............."
The entity paused for an undetermined amount of time, and then continued to speak.
"Soon.... There shall be a great undoing...... That which you know shall not remain........ Wait for me........ I will see you in time........."
Once again, I had a lapse in consciousness. When I came too, I awoke lying on the living room floor. I was very confused. I questioned the reality of the experience, but yet I could not explain away the multiple second and third degree burns all over my body. Too fucking weird.
I do not grasp the meaning of this event, nor I do I have any delusions of being able to do so. I decided that It was best not to dwell on it. The only thing I could do to feel more "Normal" was to consume a triple ration of Natty Light. I sure that will help things out, at least for the time being.

Time To Find Some Honest Work


Rodoslav suggested to me the other day that I might want to try and find some form of steady employment. So far I have been able to make my rent payments, but the methods that I have been using have been described at best as... "unsound"
My most profitable technique so far is a technique that I like to call "The Dark Stalker." It is very simple in theory, but can be quite challenging in practice. There is quite a bit of planning involved.
First of all, I have to choose my location carefully. It has to be a location where the security parameters are not very high. Also, It cannot have too much human traffic, at least at some point during its hours of operation.
The location that I have chosen is the biology building at the nearby university. There are quite a bit of students coming in and out in the daylight hours, but there are considerably less at night. During these hours of quiet, I make my way to the higher floors and begin laying out the rest of my strategy.
Once I am on the proper floor, I have to find a particular room where research of some sort is being conducted. I find that the medium sized laboratories are best suited for this purpose. At this point, I need to determine the patterns of those going in and out of this room. Most of the time, I will find that the occupancy of the room is limited to just one person. If am able to determine that this person can steadily be found conducting research alone, then I have found my victim.
You are probably very curious as to what I am going to do at this point. You should not be too alarmed, as no one is going to be harmed. (at least in a physical sense) You see, I have an amazing ability that very few humans possess. I have the ability to shape shift into almost any form I choose. The only limitations to my power is that I cannot become far larger or smaller in size than my original body. I could easily become 8 feet tall, but not 80 feet. (yes, very shameful indeed) I use my shape shifting ability to implement my "Dark Stalker" plan
When my target is the least suspecting, I very stealthily make my way into the room. when I am almost upon my victim, I transform. I almost always do it when there back is turned to them. For the purposes of the dark stalker, I usually assume this form:






Of course, I never feel it necessary to alert them to my presence. When I complete my transformations into some of my more seemingly sinister forms, there is always some kind of indicator that something evil is afoot. Perhaps you can say that an uncanny chill can be felt in the air. However, my victims are usually alerted by the unnatural waves of evil that are pulsating from my core. It is as if they are at once overtaken by waves of dread, or as if a beam of pure malice was being fired into their soul. It is at that point when they feel the need to turn around. They are at once confronted by my horrible visage.
So great is their fear, that they cannot speak. They cannot scream. They cannot move. There is absolutely nothing they can do. At this point, I outstretch my hand to them. I have a difficult time speaking in this form, but I still try to make it clear that I am asking for money. It usually comes out as just one word, muuhhhhnnneeeeyy! It is usually very long and raspy, and is accompanied by a bizarre echo. Upon hearing this, they usually do nothing. They simply stand there, frozen, unresponsive. I really need I need to work on my pronunciation. I feel that it will help streamline the whole process.
The next step is to usually pat them down with my hideously deformed hands, trying to feel where they might keep their money. I would not feel too bad for these people. I am always actually quite gentle. After I take what I need, I usually retreat back into the darkness from which I came.
I don't see why Rodoslav has to frown on me so. Are my actions truly that deplorable? Most of the time, I do not take the bulk of their money. In fact, I always leave them with enough cash so they can pay the exit toll from the parking lot.
Rodoslav tells me that he has arranged for me some honest work. He tells me that my future employers will contact me in the next two weeks. I cannot wait! It will be very nice to take the next step towards becoming a part of normal human society.

The Best Comic Strip in the World

Though most of the newspaper in my domicile is reserved for my bedding, I do occasionaly get a chance to read some of the material. There was a good collection of articles, though most of them made no sense at all to me. I just dont understand why the inhabitants of this city would try to entertain themselves by reading about the increases in their required financial contribution to the local authorities. Though they did include some articles which expressed grievances towards the government, there were otheres on the very next page that explained as to why the government should be loved. Very perpexling.
On the final pages, there were a series of drawings that seemed to be arranged in sets of squares. The Shogun of the Dark tells me that these things are referred to as "Comic Strips." Though I do not grasp the meaning of this "comedy" that he speaks of, I did understand that they were arranged in a strip-like layout.
One particular comic strip caught my eye. It was unlike any of the others. It did not engage its readers in the mindless dribble of living in a household of intermediate size, where the male of the house in constantly caving in to the never ending pressure from his revolting wife and parasitic children like the pathetic invalid that he is.
The one I speak of is the comic strip called "Garfield." However, I was unable to locate the character they call Garfield. Shogun tells me that long ago there was a culturally significant idol, and that his name was Garfield. He was worshipped by many. However, as the grains of time passed away into the wind, his popularity began to decline.
Though the source of power responsible for Garfield tried to maintian his relevance by distributing what seemed to be an endless array of publications, their efforts ultimately failed.
As a last ditch effort, the shadow prince decided that he would terminate the life of Garfield.
Now, Garfield is dead. All that remains is the owner of the cartoonish cat. However, the death of his feline companion was far too great for him to bear. As a result, he experiences bouts of insanity that even rival my own.











This strip Illustrates one of the more colorful outbursts of Jon's schizophrenia. He seems to be speaking to an imaginary character who he refers to as "Mr. Droopy Face." Perhaps his dancing is an attempt to keep Mr. Droopy Face at Bay, who may be a dangerous character in his own right.










This strip dispalys the never ending monotony of Jon's life. It does not seem like he is able to occupy himself in any meaningful sort of way. Furthermore, He does not take any steps to provide for his own entertainment. There is a substantial decrease in moral from the second frame to the third.

In this scene, Jon's depression has increased in severity. As you can see, he cannot even bring himself to eat the plate of french fries that he has just prepared for himself.

In this scene, we see Jon questioning the very nature of reality. He is not able to make himself believe that the satchel is in any way a real object. It seems that he wants to make himself touch the object to somehow confirm its realness, but I doubt that even that would convince him.

Now, Jon has detriorated into his final suicidal stage. Though he has acknoledged that he has no will to live, the reader is unclear as to what steps he will take to resolve this crisis. Will he see that he is at an ultimate lowpoint and pledge to spare himself for at least his family? Will he relieve himself from his suffering once and for all with one glorious leap of faith? I love this shit. I cant wait to see what happens next week!

Will You Not Be Silent?

Once again, I made my trip to the public library. Rodoslav, my Russian acquaintance, had paid me a severely low fee to assist him with his bio-weapons research, so I periodically tried to help him locate information.
My task for the day was to learn more about the nature of the HIV virus, and whether or not we could find a way to make it airborne. I started to make some very good progress. I was what I believed to be upon the brink of a major scientific discovery when I was interrupted by a severely annoying individual.
There she was, the one who refers to herself as Libby Deloris Agnes III. Just as I was about to find a way to engineer a entirely new virus, she asked me if I would like to hear her next poem.
I did not respond, but she kept on talking to me as if I was someone who may come to regard her one day as someone that I might tolerate on a regular basis.
She said, “Most People find my writing far too… dark. They just can’t, um, figure it out. I suppose it is because they don’t read and write as much as I do.”
I told her, “In the unlikely event that I want your opinion, I shall ask for it.”
Despite telling her to fuck off so to speak, she went about trying to read to me her poem.

The Gloom of the foggy highway
Libby Agnes Deloris III

The gloomy highway was shrouded in fog.
How miserable it was!
A solitary man walked in the mist.
Will he ever reach his destination?
Probably not!
A lone crow sat on an old tree.
Caw! Caw!
How drowsily it cawed!
The Gloom
The Fog
The Smog
The Ridiculous Blog!
So Depressing
So very Depressing
The man continues to walk,
The crow continued to squawk.

My Attempt to Understand Human Alcohol Consumption:
An Epic Story of Failure and Glorious Redemption


One thing I have noticed about human behavior is their insatiable need to consume alcohol, and the methods employed concerning said consumption.
I was informed by an unassuming local guy that the drink of choice in the city in which I reside is beer, and that the beer of choice is Natural Light. However, it is most often referred to in a more colloquial manner, being described as “Natty Light”
In order to facilitate a more peaceful transition into free society, I decided to take it upon myself to adopt the customs of the locals as my own. Waking up at the crack of dawn, I made my way to a small general goods peddling station in my neck of the woods.
One thing that I noticed about my part of town was that the security parameters of every home and business were much higher than that of the rest of the city. For every set of windows, there was a set of iron bars to protect them. There were also many other types of fortifications, with varying degrees of severity. One particular business had a 12 foot high chain link fence, which was further enhanced by what I can best describe as a circular wire containing and endless amount of very small, but very sharp daggers. Furthermore, there was a single smaller wire running through the center of circular wire pattern, from which a small sign was hanging. Though I could not make out the letters, there was a picture of what seemed to be a burst of electricity and a human skull. Though I do not know the meaning of this, I will probably consult the Shogun of the Dark before making any attempt to defeat the fortification.
After purchasing the “Natty Light”, I at once had to find out for myself what all the commotion was about. I quickly took my newfound purchase to the parking lot of the establishment, and, to the disdain of the individuals working there, began to quickly drink the fluids contained in the cans as rapidly as I could.
It angered me that the shop owners frowned upon my actions. Was this not the drink of the city, the one and only “Natty Light” that I had just purchased from them? If they are so doubtful as to the nature of the product that they are selling, then why do the sell it at all?
My Immediate reaction was none other than disgust. How horrible a concoction it was! I desperately wanted to stop drinking it, but my desire to learn the ways of human beings of free society was strong. I did not stop until all six of the sixteen ounce containers were consumed.
At that point, a miraculous thing happened. I thought It was too good to be true, but it was very much in fact a reality. The speed of the chatter of the demons in my had slowed considerably. Though they were not silenced altogether, I could not help but wallow in my own crapulence.
From that day forward, I made a regular pledge to myself to consume this drink as often as possible. This so called “Natty Light” could help me become a more perfect human being. It could allow me to escape the precarious ledge on which I perpetually occupied. Success and Failure, good and bad, right and wrong…. All these notions that so often swirled in my consciousness seemed to have less significance. The Natural light had become an investment in my future, and nothing less than a guardian of my soul.