Support Me In My Bid for Mr. Homeless San Diego
I never considered myself much of a looker, until I caught the eye of Howlin' Joe Johnson in the alley behind 7-11. Of course, I gave him his eye back, but not before he told me of a golden opportunity to compete in Mr. Homeless San Diego (that, and he claimed to be privy to an unholy alliance between Melinda Gates and 'Obama Hussein' who together are purportedly backing attempts to conjure the 'number of truth' in hopes of overthrowing the worlds ancient Illuminati still based out of Bulgaria).
Anyhow, the contest goes like this, the first full moon of spring, 23 of the most charming, graceful and talented bums from around the city meet at the Hazard Railroad Junction to compete for the coveted title of Mr. Homeless San Diego. The winner receives $5, a bottle of Mad Dog 20-20 and an all expenses paid night with Ms. Homeless San Diego at the plush La Jolla and Vine Bus stop. Last, but not least, the winner from the San Diego contest will automatically gain entry to the prestigious Mr. Homeless California competition.
The contest sounds like a lot of fun. Win or lose, I suppose everybody will have a good time. That said, I really want to win. From what Joe tells me I'm a lock for the categories of looks and poise. 'The fresh ones always are, pretty boy', he said, a comment which sent shivers up my spine. But, he tells me, I really don't stand a chance in the test of strength. 'No one dares try their luck 'gainst Razor Ray'.
So its all going to boil down to the talent category. I'm thinking of murmuring, picking up and then peering deep into the distorted mirrors of a thousand shards of glass (my brother's suggestion, he claims its very therapeutic)... but its a long shot. I've got some fierce competition from the free-style psychopathic poetry of Federal Freddy and the bizarre dance contortions of Convulsive Pete. Add to that the fact that there are a few crack-heads in the competition who don't just 'want to win', they actually 'need to win' and I'm definitely gonna need a lot of help. So please, send your suggestions, your well wishes, your rolling tobacco and if you have a chance stumble down to the Hazard St. Junction round midnight of the next full moon and cheer me on.