Homeless Man + Expensive Restaurant = $$$$$$$

by Homeless T


2012-06-23. Luxury can be a hard mistress to leave behind--easy to grow fond of, so soft, clean and sweet-smelling. Homeless T has enjoyed private accommodations since 2010's holiday season, starving only rarely, but who cares about food when you have a place of your own? Out-of-date donuts are just fine, and cheap. It's possible to eat three meals a day a various food pantries and soup kitchens without spending a dime. But sometimes even the poorest slob wants to live it up. Every pauper deserves a decent meal at least once in his life.

small-c crystal, heroine of the small-c caste

by homeless homer les-ter tea-bury

interdimensional memorandum

to: small-c crystal, who begat the small-c preference:

from: lazarus, rudely awakened from his
umpteenth dream of death.

aahhhhhemmmmmm

Addiction: It's Not Just For the Depraved Anymore


Fun, fun, fun 'til the bank takes your credit away.
by Homer Lester Teabury

Disclaimer

2015-10-25. Some homeless suffer real physical and/or mental illnesses, and are incapable of untangling the red tape required to get themselves the services they need. These forgotten people don't belong among those described here, and deserve everybody's help.
What's Your Addiction?
Calculating dismal probabilities

I formerly insisted on being called The Professor, but once again I am a student--set back several grades in life's classroom, to relearn forgotten lessons of the Fool--a naive dreamer whose snowballing story would cause you to shudder if you knew all. Although not freakishly ugly or a doddering old fossil yet, it is only a matter of time until the Fool's wages are totaled and tendered upon me. The truths I tell may save you from hell on Earth, but they will have little effect on the true junky.


Homeless Maid: Hotel Toledo 2010

By Homeless T
641-484-2808
Rooms start
at $50.00 weekly

10 August 2010. Toledo, Iowa: Inquiring minds wonder: how on earth did Homer Teabury (God protect us from ending up like him) wind up as a stubble-faced Polly Prim, a hoity-toity hotel maid?

Wasn't he a school-marm or some such, out there in--where was it? Montana? Mexiconia? Ohia?--and how did he jump on the housekeeping gravy-train without the proper mopping, scrubbing, and laundry education? What kind of hotel maid would he make, hacking all over the pillows with that tubercular cough of his?

Highest Wages, No Unemployment: Williston, ND


posted by Homer Les Teabury

28 August 2017. Tired of bosses starving out the working man? If you're working for the money at the present juncture of your life, you might consider the fracking capital of America, Williston. Fast food workers start at $18/hr, and skilled labor is proportionately scaled. Big money. Click the banner and go.

Your Impoverished Life Explained


Goin' my way?
By Homeless T


What can we infer about the unemployed working man--jobless too long, and slipping through the cracks--the homeless man, deranged by the attrition of street life; and the new American generation of drug-addled illiterates? Why do they prefer eventually to disappear rather than be seen and recast--by former friends, remnants of family, and goal-driven acquaintances of long ago--as washed-up, soon-to-die things?
Society would seem to have painted a bull's-eye on these financial drop-outs, targeting them for its private derision and public prosecution by the alpha dog pack currently running the dominant social hierarchy. Dogs can be so territorial, and packs, terrifyingly vicious.

Salivation Army Wants You to Ring Their Bells at Christmas

by Homeless T
27 NOVEMBER 2016. Despite the general perception of homeless men as happy wanderers--leading lives of adventure, wine, women, and song--as winter sets in, things get harder, and downright dangerous as Christmas approaches. Black Friday kicks off open season for Salivation Army's (SA) annual drafting of derelicts to serve as donation-kettle bell-ringers, doing what homeless men do best: standing around, hitting up passersby for spare change. The Supreme Commander of the SA calls this draft "bagging our bozos." Here's how it works.

No Place for Nobodies

Look Before You Leap Next Time, Homeless

By Flix Darkblud, Critic 

On the topic of Homer L Teabury's

 7 Sept 2010. Lake Geneva. Homer Teabury really should have thought twice in December of 2007—now, well over two years ago--before deserting his job as a well-paid tepid college instructor,  and embarking (pushed) into a far less promising remunerative career as--ahem, ahem--a homeless blogger, unremunerated and essentially writing about his crackpot selfr. Such is my opinion, bluntly put. Not that Homer’s writing is totally useless, but its value employed to a far better end. He should have it printed into toilette paper role. But does such cathartic outpouring rightly reside in the realm of in the emotionally crippled charged voice of his alter-ego Homeless T.? No. It's just a bunch of bullsh-t, a big put-on he put on and couldn't get out of it.

Homeless Like Me: Cedar Rapids, Iowa 2009

by Homeless T


CEDAR RAPIDS, IA, USA * 29 AUGUST 2009: Over 24 downward-spiraling months, my life crashed from being a community college professor--with family, home, cars, full fringe benefits, and freedom to do as I wished--down to that of a lone, homeless person. Maybe you saw me walking the streets of downtown Cedar Rapids. I was still wearing a yellow neck-tie (all I had left of my profession), but it was filthy. I had learned to rummage the trash for refundable pop-cans, and scavenge curb-side ashtrays for half-smoked butts to quiet my craving for tobacco. At first I was very stealthy about this degraded practice, but before long I had adopted the attitude of What the Hell!   

Pyrates 'o' the Poop-Deck

by Tommy George posted by Homer Lester Teabury

2013-12-15

Ye be sailin' into biblical headwinds, Matey
moonin' over that frilly yellow-haired doll
who felled ye in the first place, a-falling
                   down,
           down,
drownin' yer soul in her poisonous squall.