I thought that sounded like John Hodgeman. OK, now I get that it was a joke. All the way through all I thought was "what the hell is this???" *LOL* I think I need some coffee...
It kind of sneaks up on you. I got past the various tragic references with a furrowed brow and had to hear him go through the variations on the date to realize something was totaly askew. Good find!
Hilarious. I love John Hodgman. I had the pleasure of hearing him speak in person last year--he came to New Orleans to promote his book, THE AREAS OF MY EXPERTISE--and he is a terrific public speaker: lucid, erudite, and very funny.
I've got no idea who John Hodgeman is, but something tells me I'd better find out!
I have a nigh-irresistable urge to go out and deface a buffalo nickel so that the Indian looks like a hobo, and the buffalo like a hobo with a buffalo on his head...
I want to declare myself Hobo King of New Zealand and demand tithes in the form of bits of string and bent nails.
Probably shouldn't, though. I'd learn the hard way that the mantle of Photographer by Day/Hobo Hunter by Night had passed from Walker Evans on down to Anne Leibowitz.
Or maybe Anne Geddes. She probably programs those babies as tiny cute mind-control assassins...
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"We will kill all the hobos and gnaw on their bones" -- this was great. Sort of Hunter S. Thompson meets Ken Burns ;)
I thought that sounded like John Hodgeman. OK, now I get that it was a joke. All the way through all I thought was "what the hell is this???" *LOL* I think I need some coffee...
Oh, great! Now I've got "Big Rock Candy Mountain" playing over and over in my head.
It kind of sneaks up on you. I got past the various tragic references with a furrowed brow and had to hear him go through the variations on the date to realize something was totaly askew. Good find!
Hilarious. I love John Hodgman. I had the pleasure of hearing him speak in person last year--he came to New Orleans to promote his book, THE AREAS OF MY EXPERTISE--and he is a terrific public speaker: lucid, erudite, and very funny.
I've got no idea who John Hodgeman is, but something tells me I'd better find out!
I have a nigh-irresistable urge to go out and deface a buffalo nickel so that the Indian looks like a hobo, and the buffalo like a hobo with a buffalo on his head...
I want to declare myself Hobo King of New Zealand and demand tithes in the form of bits of string and bent nails.
Probably shouldn't, though. I'd learn the hard way that the mantle of Photographer by Day/Hobo Hunter by Night had passed from Walker Evans on down to Anne Leibowitz.
Or maybe Anne Geddes. She probably programs those babies as tiny cute mind-control assassins...
Damn, I didn't know half this stuff. Why wasn't this stuff taught in my frickin' history class where it belongs?
Fortunately I've read the Hobo's favorite book so it wasn't like I was starting at ground zero here.
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