New York has its fair share of homeless. Trying to ignore or avoid panhandlers is just part of the rhythm of daily life.
Yesterday I saw a homeless kid holding a cardboard sign. On it was scribbled the saddest story I've yet come across:
"Parents killed by ninjas," the sign read. "Need money for kung fu lessons."
Mmm. Tugs at the heartstrings. I gave him a quarter.
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Ahh.. the kung fu fightin homeless.
Maybe he needs some more key light on his ...
I'd have to say that the Marlboro porn stash gave me a laugh and a smile that you don't get unless you work for a utility company and bite the lines during a hurricane.
Yes it has been a while, but you know I'm the real Gene Wilder.
I hate to tell you, but you won't be serving any more daiquiris on Elysian Fields.
Hit the cell.
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