t’s Homelessness Awareness Week in Berkeley. Apparently. I know this because I saw it on some flyer stapled to a telephone pole. Right next to an ad for Tantric meditation classes and some other hippy shit. Isn't the purpose of an awareness week to draw our attention to something that we may not notice in our day to day lives? If that’s the case then every day in Berkeley is Homelessness Awareness Week. I see those bastards on the street every day; they’re pretty hard not to notice. They’re everywhere, with their poorly-hand-written ‘Will Work For Food’ signs. You know what your problem is, Al? You’ll work for food. How many jobs pay in food? How’s about you work for money and then you can get a job?

The problem with Berkeley's transients is that so many of them just don’t deserve my handouts. Every goddamn hippy and their hairy-legged mother has already given you money, so why should I? You probably make more than I do, which really pisses me off because I work my ass off at MacDonald's.

I refuse to give money to bums with dogs. Especially those goddamn drifter kids who come here every summer. If you own a pet, you obviously aren’t hungry enough, so stop begging for food. Oddly, I’ve never seen a Korean homeless guy with a dog. Then, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Korean homeless guy. It’s kinda hard to go homeless when you own a Liquor store, I guess.

I refuse to give money to bums with kids. Almost the same reason as above. I’m not suggesting you eat your child (though I’m not discouraging it either) but perhaps if you’d been spending less time making that baby and more time in school, you’d have a job. What business do you have bringing a child into this world if you can’t support the little puke-machine? Maybe you should just eat it. Or drop it off at an orphanage or in a mail box or something. Send it to a family that can make better use of it. I mean take care of it.

I refuse to give money to bums who smoke. Do I even need to explain this one? When faced with the choice between a hot meal and a brief nicotine buzz, if you choose the latter, you don’t deserve shit from me. The sooner you die from lung cancer, the better. The same goes for booze. It’s such a waste of good alcohol. What’s the point of getting drunk if you’re not going to go pick up college freshmen that you thankfully won’t remember in the morning?

I refuse to give money to bums who are fat. Come on, stop bugging me for change, you can live off your reserves. That’s probably the reason you’re out here anyway. Ate yourself out of house and home. Ha ha. That’s a pun. Anyway, come see me when you’re gaunt and sickly as a homeless person should be. Then I can just laugh and say, “Sorry I haven’t got any change, just twenty dollar bills.”

I refuse to give money to those goddamn bums who tell jokes. If you have a sense of humor, you haven’t been homeless long enough. I especially hate those fucking drifter kids with their smooth moves and greasy hair, and the signs that say: “Got any change for pot? How about some pot for a change?” No, fucker, none of the above. That’s a really witty sign you got there, though. They thought that one was funny back in the sixties, too. How about, instead of wishing you were one of the freewheeling flower children of the American Dark Ages genetically blended with a pseudo-goth, you get a goddamn job? You’re young and able-bodied. The Man needs you. Go work at Hot Topic or something. They hire your kind and I bet they think your sign is funny, too. Just like all the played-out clothing they sell. Leave the pot for the pros who can smoke an ounce and still score the highest in their graduate Inter-Temporal Hyperbolic Discounting seminar. Biatch.

I refuse to give money to bums in electric wheelchairs. I swear you can pawn that gizmo off for quite a bit of money. So go down the street to the pawn shop, he’s right next to the bail bondsman, sell your crappy set of wheels, learn to walk and buy some food. Three simple steps. Oh, you don’t understand me because you’re palsied? Maybe you should have eaten all your vegetables when you were young. That’s what causes ‘tardism. My daddy said so.

I refuse to give money to bums with bling-blizzing. I was sitting eating my dinner one day outside Steve’s Korean BBQ. Yeah, the one that makes great meat. And this guy comes up asking for change. He’s wearing a brown suede suit and matching slacks, tan vest and shirt with disco-flared collar, snake skin boots and more rings on his pinky than I have in my toilet bowl. Around his neck is a gold chain. Oh, ok, I’ll give you some change… Oh, wait, how about ‘fuck you’ instead? God, I hate these people like the Skeksies hate the Gelflings.

And how can I forget: I hate bums who wear lipstick. Oh, and I refuse to give them money, too. That fat bitch who sits on Channing and Telegraph with the Malaysian-whore-red rouge à lèvre all over her face does not deserve my money. I know she’s just going to buy more lipstick and she can’t even put it on properly. She probably hasn’t had a drink in a while and I bet the delirium tremens make her hands shake something fierce, but I still refuse to give her my shit. Also, that chick with the extensions who wears a different hat every day? Fuck you.

Actually, I guess I don’t really give money to anyone. But I do have some advice: stop being poor, you bastards. And good God Almighty in Heaven, son of a lying ‘virgin’ whore, do you smell. How about next time it rains, rather than cowering under your ‘Wounded Veteran. Need Food’ sign, you could get out there and wash up a bit? Yeah? Thanks, I appreciate it. Maybe if, I dunno, they smelled like pudding or something nice I’d be more likely to give them money.

You know, those pot-bellied kids on the Save the Children commercials need to shut the fuck up, too. Every time I see those greedy bastards on my television-screen, with their bellies out to here, I get pissed. Here’s a tip, young Zulu warriors: try moving around, the flies won’t bother you so much. They’re always just laying there with a plastic food bowl in one hand, trying to look hungry (fucking fakers, I see your fat bellies) and pleading for my hard earned capitalist dollars. Try getting some exercise. I dunno, go throw rocks at each other’s heads or whatever it is kids do in countries that haven’t invented television.

I’m tired of underdeveloped nations trying to leech off the wealth of us great Americans. Like those damned Iraqi’s. I bet they elected Saddam on purpose and allowed him to mistreat them just so we would send in our forces to liberate them. And now they begrudge use the oil Halliburton pumps from their soil? Not like they’re using it anyway, they don’t even have cars. Ungrateful bastards.

As you can see, I am quite aware of the homeless, and I still don’t give a shit.

Copyright © 2003