Monday, December 08, 2008

The transient identification dictonary part 4


The Flamboyant Beggar - This tramp has a future in marketing if he ever snags a fixed address and stops bathing in public restrooms. Not content to rest on his feces encrusted laurels, the Flamboyant Beggar wants you to give him money because you're moved by wonderment and amazement and not merely a desire to feed a drunkards love of Lysol laced Colt 45. Though he may be between jobs and houses, he's right on the mark when it comes to spinning soul-stirring yarns to elicit sympathy from shmucks like us. Is his leg made of wood? Maybe. Did he come to town from all the way across country only to be raped by an entire pack of bears (not generally known to rove in packs) who then stole his wallet and his wife? Very likely. The Flamboyant Beggar will say and do anything to convince you that $2 will save his soul from certain damnation and a second bout of bear rape.


The Reserved Beggar - The polar opposite of the Flamboyant Beggar, this bandy man wants your money but years of eating refuse, copulating with car exhaust pipes and fighting rats for primo cardboard living spaces have left him in a permanent state of not giving a shit about anything at all. He needs your money if he's to buy his next bottle of Thunderbird or a tasty tuna melt peppered with Aqua Velva, but he's pretty much only going to sit in one spot with a soiled hat in his lap and wait for you to throw it at him as though he were a human wishing well. Is your wish to smell malt liquor and despair without a hassle? Then the Reserved Beggar is the itinerate layabout for you.


The Loose Stool - In the world of film, the friendly drifter who teaches you a valuable life lesson is often scruffy and in shabby clothes. Rarely in this family friendly films do they mention he has feces clogging the bread bag he's using as a shoe. If they did, they would have to acknowledge him as the Loose Stool, the most exotic of all hobos. While many hobos come with an unseemly perfume, none take it to the extreme of the man who realized that if you have taco shits in your pants it'll help keep you warm at night and thus no longer seeks to actually stop doing whatever it is he's doing when he has to get Mr. Colon a-twitching.

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