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Hobo Guardian Society

If you think you got it bad, what if we relied on Obama for our future?

If you think you got it bad, what if we relied on Obama for our future?

  1. Are you a hobo?
  2. Were you a hobo?
  3. Do you know a hobo?
  4. Do you want to be a hobo?
  5. Will you become a sponsor of a hobo?

We can connect responsible citizens with sponsorship of your own hobo.  We will provide you with his facebook page, and his updates on his hobo travels.  Send me $50 and you can sponsor a hobo!  If you can’t send me $50, then you are probably on the road to becoming a hobo yourself.

5 Comments leave one →
  1. June 8, 2016 8:54 am

    Yep. New York City waterfront, is where I grew up. Played around rail yards, too.

    • hoboduke permalink*
      June 8, 2016 1:36 pm

      Since age of 3 I would push a kitchen chair to window over sink facing rail line when I felt and heard the massive steam locomotives rumbling closer to our home. Amazing power and sound of steam power always got me hopping to see.

      • June 8, 2016 2:20 pm

        I liked the diesels. Still do. My only train experiences, have been when people had fallen or jumped onto tracks and third rails electrocuted them or train split them in half. I was a cop.

      • hoboduke permalink*
        June 8, 2016 4:04 pm

        Gruesome assignment. My father in law worked in Chicago rail yard and did have 2 buddies die in switch yard. One had legs cut off under railcars and the other crushed by a box car.

      • June 8, 2016 4:12 pm

        Yeah. Every now and then, some terrible stuff. The worse was when some guy going to work on Wall Street somewhere, fell onto the tracks and the train spun him. He was cut in half but alive. The Emergency Services cops had to tell him that when the train was moved, he would die. Cop held his hand, and a parish priest was brought there to give Last Rites. I heard the man say to tell his wife he loved her and the kids. Then the Captain of the stationhouse showed up, and said the Brass said it was time. The train moved back, the man looked at the cop as the skin of his torso spun and his internal organs, rolled out like a gutted deer. His eyes went purple, then, black. It was over. I left the barroom as the bartender demanded to close up for the night. It was one of those terrible days.

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