One thing I think about while sitting or lying in the comforts of my home on wheels is that I might be in danger of becoming the sort of hobo whose luxurious lifestyle is more befitting that of a "houser" than a tramp.
With that in mind, I resolve to set about "ruffing it" pretty soon. Or, I'll just get an apartment and call it quits. Because there's nothing worse than being a half-way hobo, earning neither the full disdain of town folk, nor the full respect of true transients.
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