Well down at the shelter, the militia and are gathered together her with this bounty of free charitable gift of Turkey, canned gravy reconstituted potatoes and government peas. Eating those government peas really takes me back to the hills of Grenada. Listening to Van Halen, popping open a can of peas with Uncle Sam�s picture with a gold tooth I ripped out of some Cubano�s skull. Well, good times. Alright boys and lady raise your Dixie cups of cider and salute this great land of freedom.

So there we are down at the shelter, We guys of the 23rd Street have our own corner right near the window. Well we always leave an empty seat out of respect for our fallen comrades. Well all of the sudden this chicky poo comes and sits down and starts mowing down her lunch. Now we are all just sitting there staring at her when all of the sudden she lets out this monstrous fart that smelled like a corpse filled with cheese wrapped in garbage. We all just busted out laughing. That�s the story of how the 23rd street Militia became co-ed.

Damn that wet white fluff it�s a sign that so many of are group fear. That�s the end of walking out in the street. It�s a signal its time to hunker up in shelters and the underpasses and heating vents and anywhere where you can find it. It�s sad but like they say anything that doesn�t kill you only makes you stronger. Well I mean I can leave you horribly scared with wounds that will scar you and make you a cast out for the rest of your miserable life. Who wants coffee?

No one will ever be able to top you Benny. You are a god amongst mere mortals when it comes to bouncing. Some people they want to move up to bartender and get out of the door. Not you Benny 20 solid years handing out the bums rush like free condoms. You made it your own though Benny. You took that that Saginaw style and you added a � turn and a flip. That�s creative inspiration that DiVinci would have been proud of. You will be missed, I know that Lefty is going to hire some big dumb Irish muscle man ape to fill your spot. But he will never replace your gorgeous melon head.

So I am sitting on the steps of Saint Marks, paper bag in hand. When all of the sudden I get this sharp pain in the back of my head. Some bloody penguin is kicking me, yelling about how this is �god�s house� and that I should take my filthy booze elsewhere. So I start saying about how the Jesus loved wine. Then she starts whapping me with a ruler and kicking me and throwing holy water at me. So I take off running for my life. But she doesn�t give up and chases after me and runs me down an alley. The only thing that confuses me is that St Marks is a Lutheran church.