Gucci Homeless

Homeless people in Boston are very well dressed. Compared to the homeless people I encountered outside Toys-R-Us in Chico, Bostonian transients are the Kennedy's. Seriously. They look just like me and you, just with signs and jimgling money cups. Even their signs are better. Everything is spelled right and instead of being on rain saturated cardboard, they are on real posterboard. The kind elementary school kids do their projects on. It confuses me. And takes away my normal tendency to give them money. If they can afford to look that good, why should I spare my change? I'd rather send it back to the ratty looking homeless in Cali.

On another random Boston note, there are Canadian geese in the street that I take to get home. Which is more like a highway than a street. It's a major street. And there's geese on it who aren't even from this country. So I have to slow to like twenty while they waddle in front of me and mock me because they know I am already five minutes late. Damn Canooks.

I rode the T three times this past week. Actually four. I forgot about last night. It renewed my faith in the need for deodorant. And manners.

I drank way to much last night. Which in Toni Terms is two drinks. But we went to this great bar that has dueling piano players who play all kinds of songs on the piano. It was amazing. A must see. I loved it so much I stayed in bed till 3:30 pm dreaming about it. Or sleeping off a hangover, depending on your perspective.