"well, unlike most of you, i was born in a cardboard box (my family owned a 1964 microwave box) though as i grew up i hardly got cardboard protection from the weather. i was born in Madagascar, my father a box repairman (someone who goes around and covers holes in cardboard boxes, with newspapers for a little spare pen's). i didn't really have a mother, i guess u could say it was the wombat (it had rabies) that my father raped. I was born a hobo, and grew up living like one, fighting cats, pinecones, other hobos, and sometime if I was courageous enough I fought kinklesnakes for the chewy skins. I live on hunger all my life. It was horrid, then one day a huge elephant with wings came by and since I had forgotten to put my duct tape armor on that day it picked my up with its mighty toes and dropped me in a warehouse. I learned to adapt to this new culture, and get along with the hobos that also were in the area. it was all and good until one day i remembered 2 thing my father told me, "son, u are an u suck", but it was the 2nd thing he had told me, "reach for the bagels." and with that i decided to do something with my life. i quickly told some of my hobo friends (jonathon and James), about my new life. they were heartbroken, and did not waste any time in beating the smelly crap out of me. it hurt! i cried!! i gave in, and become a hobo once more. i am still a hobo, but am home sick, i often miss the kinklesnake skins, and pinecones. but my friends make me feel better by letting me hunt for their dinners. hunger still haunts me, and i realize i will be doomed to this horrid hobo life, mostly cause i am to lazy to do anything different."
