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.
Homer Lester Teabury, a blogger who calls himself Homeless T, is a former professor whose life collapse gave him a lesson in humility. Without a place to call his own, without a car, money, job, friends, or his children from 2007 through 2011, he provides anecdotes, information, and humor on the homeless life.
I Was Homeless T
I moved into a dilapidated mobile home. The landlord had hoped to collect a modest rent from each of four students that would share the housing. However, the trailer was in such disrepair that I lived alone for only $150.00 a month, and experienced there the disquietude that absolute silence will induce in some men. It was like living on the moon. That lack of sound! Over the months, the absolute silence drove me to take refuge. . . anywhere but there
The Oral B Electric Toothbrush with Cross Action
by Homer Les Teabury
5 January 2018. "The Oral B" inaugurates my first bid for honest and integritous writing. My planned series is titled "My Interesting Stuff" and will feature things I have acquired, rate their usefulness, and explain how, where, and when I acquired them. Let's get started.
I acquired my Oral B in February of 2013 on a Las Vegas retreat from the frigidly cold weather of Iowa. I hadn't much money--at the time of the Oral B's acquisition, none--but I had, after my first ten days in the city of Las Vegas, escaped the colorful crowd that lived in the sprawling Salvation Army Emergency Shelter for deluxe accommodations of my own. With the financial help of my son, I had rented a small suite in the complex where my genius nephew E. Christopher resides with the Las Vegas equivalent of a geisha--a very lovely and pleasing woman who takes excellent care of him. She was very gracious to me, as was he. The complex gave him a $50 cash bonus for referring me as a new tenant; that helped to grease the wheels of graciousness on everybody's part.
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| The Oral B Electronic Toothbrush with Cross Action |
A Golden Shower of Teen Perfume and then . . . Christmas, 2007
A Reposting
by Homeless T
24 December 2007. Two Years before Our Unholy Marriage even started. I am alone. The memory of her abrupt disappearance--whisked away by her dad the small-town grifter, and another man, the father of her middle child (she has three kids by three dads)--replays in my mind.
Echoes resonate bittersweet hollowness. I do love her, but the irony that sparked my arrest and no-contact order say otherwise. I broke my pinky pal's . . . pinky.
24 December 2007. Two Years before Our Unholy Marriage even started. I am alone. The memory of her abrupt disappearance--whisked away by her dad the small-town grifter, and another man, the father of her middle child (she has three kids by three dads)--replays in my mind.
Echoes resonate bittersweet hollowness. I do love her, but the irony that sparked my arrest and no-contact order say otherwise. I broke my pinky pal's . . . pinky.
EBT Clients Receive Cash Back on Refundable Milk Bottles
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| When you have to ask your Mummy for money, you're broke! Unquestionably. |
Pyrates 'o' the Poop-Deck
Written by Tommy George
Posted by Homer Lester Teabury
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.
Free for Heads & Tales-- Downloading the Dead
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| Free .wav album of 10 songs |
Posted by HL Teabury
From Homeless T's pals, the dead wyreS. They pay me a half-penny for every song downloaded by you for free! Go figure. What a crazy business!
Oy! If I could only get a billion readers to do it.
Help yourself to some digital shreds of time, place, emotion and mortal flesh, sinking under the weight of superannuation.
Cockroaches: Smarter than You Think
2017 11-14. Detroit. How dangerous are cockroaches, really? Do they breed disease, or are they a blessing in disguise? Might they be a divine instrument of karmic cleansing for individuals of tormented conscience, wishing to cleanse
it before they die? I ask because I knew an 80-something seaman who spent his retirement years in a kingdom of roaches. His tiny apartment was home to a million cockroaches that did not run away and hide themselves and showed no fear of humans. Elsewhere, the same bugs would have. The man's only prohibition on the roaches was that they stay off his plate when he was eating. Otherwise, it was their apartment.
Joan E Sounds Like She's Ready to Harvest a Few Roosters
by Homeless T
Ms. Joan E Thurman, America's premier voice of Women's Supremacy, is writing about chicken again, but I don't believe she's going to lick any one's fingers this time. She sounds angry at the way young girls are dressing, admiring, (and more so at what they're learning to do for their boyfriends).
The mother of Women's Supremacy in the United States calls the majority of American women"chickens" and offers a recipe that she recommends throwing on the table and letting the menfolk eat by themselves. Don't worry, Joan E, women are hearing your message. Sometimes things seem to gang up together to make a wrong impression. Anyway, I invite readers to look over her latest for themselves.
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| Click my 15-year-old bottom hard to see what Aunt Joan E is so mad about. |
Luxury Can Be a Mistress Hard to Leave Behind
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| I could get used to this. |
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