Blues Travels

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Homeless, schmomeless! Just leave me alone!

OK, I admit that whenever I see a homeless person waving a big cardboard box sign in my face I get pissed off. It drives me crazy. I mean, why are they allowed to do this? Especially at busy intersections where accidents are more likely to happen than on any other stretch of road. Don’t these people realize that just by being there, they are likely to attract attention? Of course they realize that. And that is why they are there. Does it also occur to them that by just being there, and that by attracting the attention of drivers, that they are also distracting said drivers? Of course they do. Distraction is the stock and trade of any self respecting homeless person. Distraction is what they peddle.

But do they realize that by distracting drivers they could interupt the flow of traffic and cause accidents? I think they do, but I also think they don’t give a rats ass. So, when I saw a homeless person today that looked like Katheryn Zeta Jones, what do you think happened? I nearly crashed my car, that’s what nearly happened. And yes, that pissed me off even more.

But you know what? After I started shopping and I calmed down a bit, my heart went out to this lady. I confess to having a soft spot in my heart for women who look like they can give me a good back rub wearing nothing more than a thong. Does that make me a bad person?

Anyway, this was different. I mean, how did this lady, who looked like she could be the head of a major Fortune 500 company, end up being homeless? She was so well groomed; so well dressed. And yet, there she was, in all her raving beauty, complete with her very own cardboard box sign, with the words “Help. Homeless” scribbled in handsome Comic Sans MS for all the world to see. I just had a hard time making sense out of it. How did she come to be?

Well, I reasoned, God allows the rain to fall on the just and the unjust alike, right? After all, I had been there once. So, why not her? I was pontificating about all of this as I shopped, and it dawned on me that she seemed single, alone and cold. Definately not a good place to be for anyone, let alone a women. What if she had kids? What if she liked short, muscular guys with really cool cars? So, I made the decision to call the police. Maybe, I mused, they could talk to her and help her find a warm place to stay that was safe and out of harms way. It occurred to me that she might get annoyed by this, but that really didn’t matter and besides, that’s another topic for discussion.

Whether or not to get involved with the plight of the poor has never been something I thought about much. It has never been an issue for me. I have always been quick to help someone if the spirit moved me. No, the thing that was really troubling me was my motivation. Was I helping this person because she was pretty, or because the spirit was moving me? I just could not say with any degree of confidence.

In fact, I almost decided NOT to help her. The possibility that I might be helping her just because she was gorgeous really irked me. After all, helping someone in life because they are pretty is just plain unfair. It is never right to show preferential treatment toward someone over others who may be just as much in need but are not so nice to look at, or who do not smell as nice when you nuzzle into their firm, round breasts.

On the other hand, if I chose not to help her in order not to show favoritism toward her, then, in effect I was punishing her precisely because she WAS pretty. And that’s not fair either. What a predicament! Ultimately, I chose to be moved by the spirit, be governed by virtue and intervene on her behalf. Regardless of her appearance, this lady was a human being in trouble. Pure and simple. It is not her fault that she is pretty, so why punish her by passing her by? Besides, she was really HOT!

After I got home, I called the police. I explained to the dispatcher the situation, and I told her that I wanted some officers to give this lady my number so she and I could hook up for some hot action….ummm…errrr…wait, that didn’t happen. I did actually call the police, though. And they did catch up with her and talk to her. And they called me back to let me know how things went. And this is what I found out:

This lady is no more homeless than Bill Gates is poor. She has a house. She panhandles for income. She lies about her status in life, and she uses her good looks to get people to feel sorry for her so they will give her more money. Hrmmff!

Man, this just goes to show you. Pretty people suck, and they are all evil. Pretty people should go to hell because they are always hiding something with their looks. Pretty peoples are so tricksy, yessss. Nasty, filthy, rotten pretty peopleses. We hates them all. We only loves my Prrrrresciousssssssss….My Blueeeee.

Tune in next time, Blue Fans!


March 12, 2005 - Posted by | Uncategorized

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