Tuesday, January 6, 2009

To the Hobo that lives in my dumpster:

Please, live in another dumpster please. There aren't any nice things for you in there and you creep me out when I get home late at night with your loud breathing and rustling. I'm sorry you are a hobo, it must be really hard for you at this time of year but if you could just move to a dumpster that isn't on my driveway I would be very happy. I'm tired of sprinting into my garage.

Although, considering I haven't actually peeked over the top of my dumpster to look at you, you might not actually be a hobo. Here is a list of things you could be that are more horrifying than hobos:

An escaped rhino, waiting to kill my mom.
This is more terrifying because, obviously, I don't think you are trying to kill my mom. You are just trying to sleep and stay warm and maybe find some foodstuffs. But a parent-murdering rhino? Horrible. Get the intercourse out of my dumpster, rhino.

The Second Coming of Christ
I don't know why the second coming would be hiding in a dumpster in Fort Collins. Maybe this is a harbinger that the apocalypse will start in my yard. If you're in there, second coming, please find another place to hide for the next three years. My dumpster is not the best place for you to do that. If you come inside, we will make you tea.

Joseph Stalin
AHHHHHHHHHHHH GTFO, STALIN I MEAN IT RIGHT NOW YOU HEAR MEEE!

Necromorphs
Probably the worst possible thing that could be living in my dumpster. I don't even want to think about it. I will, however, be keeping a force gun in my car at all times from now on, just in cases. Also, hobo, if you feel some sort of zombie alien infection start to take hold of you, get as far away from my house as possible. There will be NO Necromorphs in my dumpster. NONE.


After some lengthy discourse with myself, I have decided you can stay in my dumpster, hobo. It will keep these other things from living there.

3 comments:

  1. I don't think the hobo will ward of the second coming, or the necromorph, or come to think of it-Stalin. These four fine chaps would definitely exude a pungent odor that would most certainly deter any mother-killing rhino. (of course!)

    If you have any need whatsoever of a pair of extra muscles, brains, scimitars, underpants, or a parfumerie, do tell me as soon as possible, so that I might lend my services to such a fine young lady in distress such as this.

    Pip pip for now my boppy boo!

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  2. I have the level six military suit, you know who to call woman.

    CUT OFF THEIR LIMBS.

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  3. You're also ruling out the possibility that Stalin is not only undead and living as a hobo, but also possessed by Christ. As for the Rhino, I think we all suspected those rhinos of being communists.

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