I've said it before and I'll say it again, I love homeless people. Vagrants, bums, hobos, bag people, call them what you will, I love them. Lunch time rolls around and ol' faithful (aka my stomach) begins to announce that he's feeling parched and wants to digest something. So I say 'I'm ok with that' and stomach and I head out for a bite. I decided on a Double Western Bacon Cheeseburger from Carl's Jr, so I head to the Plaza for lunch. As I enter the Carl's Jr, I see a hobo woman (40's, black, DIRTY, messed up teeth, 2pac scarf on her head) sitting at a table with crap scattered everywhere with her little house/ cart parked next to her. In front of her she has what appears to be every sin

I just remembered a very fond memory... Now, as I was gathering information to write this, I realize that many people won't find it entertaining or hilarious and they will think I'm mean for thinking it's so funny, but seriously... think about the situation and the level of CRAZY with this dude and just appreciate it for that. Back in 2002 a legend was being created.  A man by the name of Richard Jiron was beginning to carve his name into history and Sacramento folklore.  Richard was not a rich man, nor was he a powerful man. Ney, he was a crazy man. Richard was a man who said he resented watching the good life pass him by.  Now, in today's consumer driven society, where so much emphasis

A few months ago I started up a second job with Department of Corrections writing contracts for their prison construction projects. It's every bit as exciting as it sounds. I just go in for 3 hours after work Monday through Friday and 5 hours on Saturday. It's an extra 20 hours of overtime a week, so it's good for some extra cash. This is unrelated to the story really.   Back around Christmas time, I decided to skip out on going in to do overtime so I could go in and discuss refinance options on my house. After going by the bank, I promptly headed home hoping to be able to get all my gifts wrapped as it would be my only chance before Christmas. Upon my arrival at home I walked in to the

About 30 minutes ago, I decided to scratch my back with an open ball point pen. I don't know if 'decided' is the right word, but it's the first word that comes to mind. Depending on the elements involved, this may not be a huge problem. Black shirt, black pen, who cares? Unfortunately I'm wearing a white shirt and I used a blue pen. My back scratching endeavor therefore resulted in what looks like a really crappy children's drawing on the left shoulder of my shirt. Lame. So at this point, I was left to weigh my options, sit here, like a boob with a series of squiggly lines drawn all over the back of my shirt OR go to the bathroom and try to use a little water to get the ink out OR go grab

Yesterday it rained in Sacramento. Yesterday I didn’t pay close enough attention to the weather forecast in Sacramento. Rather than parking near my office, I decided to park about a mile or so away and ride my skateboard in to work. It’s fun and gets me a little exercise. The ride in to work was quite pleasant. The ride back to my truck wasn’t so much, and the rain was not the worst part. I left my office around 5 PM, at which point a steady rain was falling. Skateboarding in the rain sucks. Getting wet sucks, having your wheels get super slippery sucks. That would’ve been plenty to spoil what’s usually an enjoyable ride. Not only did I have to endure getting soaked and trying not to fall

The writing doesn't show up well on the scanned ticket, and satan is in color on the real thing, but you get the idea... ...and yes, I did black out my address and phone number. There are lots of weirdos in Sacramento and I don't want them having my address so they can show up to my house, drain me of my fluids and attempt to bottle and sell my badassedness on the black market. Update: Cooler in color.