Hattiesburg

Not a bad first day. I had to walk most of the night and morning but got a couple good rides. I’ve been heading toward Hattiesburg, MS., where I once landed in a small, charter plane. It’s a ways up I-98, but I’m now hanging out next to a little oxbow lake just about a half mile from the airport. I remembered the river that runs eest of the airport and was going to camp there, but when I walked up Simms road from old MS-49 (the airport exit off of 98), it was still kind of busy, so I went on up past the river bridge to Old River Road and then tried to walk back west to the river. I found the oxbow, instead. There’s a couple of houses on the east side, but the west shore is quiet and I can bathe, now that it’s dark. This is an old, winding and slow river, just like the one I crossed back near the town of McLain. I wonder if it’s the same one? I’m running on batteries, so I’m cutting this short and saving what I’ve got till I get to an outlet. At least the wireless thingy works, thanks to the houses:)

The Leaving

I’m leaving my box. The weather is good and the nights warm. The recent storm has passed and its time to go. Years ago, I traveled some. Not a lot, but I’ve been to places like the Grand Canyon and Locust Grove, Georgia. After spending the majority of the last 10 years in Mobile and most of that under the I-10 freeway in various boxes, I am leaving. The meatloaf at the soup kitchen isn’t worth staying for, anyway.

I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m leaving to see the country and meet people who don’t get their meals from a bottle of Mad Dog. I’ve got 34 dollars and 79 cents from panhandling and a half a pack of cigarettes.

Ungrateful Bastard

Hey, you ingrate! What's with the stories about me being some sort of pervert?

I should have given you a fucking pad of post-it notes and a crayon. Any more of that shit and I'll show you what I can do with admin rights, or have you forgotten who set up this blog in the first place? I'm changing your links on my site to this

Get a job. And a haircut.

Home Sweet Home

A very kind lady came down here tonight and took pictures. She emailed me a picture of my box.

This is my home. It's still cold down here.

I'm a homeless blogger, please help me...

In 1984, I lost it all. you read the gist of my story in my profile.

Today, I live in this cardboard box under the I-10 overpass, in Mobile, Alabama. Its cold here, at night, but spring is here and it will be warm, soon. I get by out here, ok, but long for more. Not long ago, I met a guy who said he's a pirate. He was fucking weird and scary and offered me money to do some pretty twisted shit. I refused and he didn't press the issue. Whatever, before he left, he gave me a pint of sloe gin and a used laptop.

I hate it here, but I can't get a break. Its my hope that kind people out in the blogosphere will take me in from time to time, feed me allow me to de-louse, shower and to live at their blog for as long as they can stand. I'll do anything they ask, in return. Well, except for the kind of shit the pirate wanted. I'll even promise not to BBQ their pets-at least while I live there...