This week is Urban Hobodry: Getting Concrete

Well, here we are again. The other day, my father (hobo #1) dragged me down to an old construction site to get some broken concrete for a walkway. He assured me that they weren't using the concrete, but I wasn't so sure, there was something odd. Maybe it was the NO TRESPASSING sign. Well, no use whining about it, we were there, so I went along with it. I mean, it wasn't so bad, so people gave us funny looks as they passed. Maybe it was because they were jealous. Or they saw what we were loading the concrete onto. My brother's truck. My brother's lowered truck. Right about now you might be thinking that would be a bad idea. Well, my friend, push those thoughts out of your head, because they are fat capitalist thoughts. The truck was lowered, but we were going to use it anyway. It doesn't really make a difference, as long as you avoid any bump higher than an inch and a half. Good thing we weren't at an old construction site, eh?

This week is Urban Hobodry: Shoveling Sand

This week on Saturday, we went and got sand for a new walkway in our backyard. We got the aforementioned sand from a creekbed out in the country. Yes, we shoveled sand from a dry creekbed out in the middle of no where. No sense in hitting up the 'ol Home Depot or Lowe's, let's just take it from our local river. Why pay for something that's only a twenty minute drive out of town, right? Yeah. It's totally not awkward when people drive by and stare. I'm sure those confused looks are just them wondering, "Why didn't I think of that brilliant idea? Those kids standing out in the middle of a riverbed shovelling sand are so much smarter than I am. Or perhaps it's their genius father who thinks spending money is a crime or something."

The Life of An Urban Hobo

First of all, an urban hobo is not someone who is, in fact, homeless. An urban hobo is someone who will go to extreme lengths to avoid paying money. Money is for normal people. Urban hobos frown upon money. Secondly, I would like to say I am an unwilling urban hobo, with my father being the master hobo in this little operation. Every week or whenever I feel like it, I will detail this week in urban hobodry. Or hobo-icity.