New Chapters

So...regular readers may have noticed that I've got a lot going on at the moment, most of it firmly in the Not Good category (and I haven't even told you about my car accident yet). Those of you who have been around for a while have probably also noticed that I tend to get a bit emotional at times. I do not plan on changing this - it's kinda part of who I am. That said, though, I'm going to take a break from talking about relationship-type stuff and focus on other aspects of my life.

One of which is a new writing gig I have. And since it starts tomorrow, I thought I'd take this opportunity to clue you in. You see, there's this other blog. It's a very GOOD blog, and one of my daily stops in my fight against Taylorism (thanks, Birdmonster). The writer of this blog knits vases, sings songs about rattlesnakes to her kids, and now apparently has a giant penguin in her front yard. In short, this person is my kinda people. She also happens to be a fantastic writer, and a genuinely good person. I am, of course, referring to Fluid Pudding.

The gig? I will now be blogging on Fluid Pudding every Tuesday. Angela (the sole blogger behind the old Fluid Pudding) has Monday, Carroll has Wednesday, Emily has Thursday, and J. Chris Rock will be turning in a performance on Friday. The result? MORE HOBO. Don't say you weren't warned.

I'm a little nervous about it, because I'll have to hold my own in the company of a stable of great writers, and also because she gets much more traffic than I do. If I may make a TV show comparison, her ratings are like CSI: Miami and I pull down about the same number of people as the 2am showing of Hee-Haw. Hopefully it's a good match. If I hear crickets, though, I can always bust out the banjo and tell shitty jokes from the corn field.

Checking out for a while

Stay well.

The Road Goes Ever On

I am single again, after such a long and beautiful run. So many wonderful memories, meaningful conversations about anything and everything at all hours of the day and night.

It began with communication. It was the foundation of our relationship. We talked. She made the breath catch in my throat, made my heart beat faster, made my hands tremble. She still does.

And yet there was always a part of her that she held back. She knew that what we had was valuable, was worth something, and she didn't want to lose it. But she still wanted to be single, to know what that felt like. The feeling of freedom and not being held accountable. She was afraid of the deep end.

And that's where I was. I was ready for something meaningful. I didn't know what form it would take, how it would manifest. I didn't much care. All I knew is that I wanted her to be a part of it. Not marriage, I didn't want a wife, I wanted the journey. Someone to share life with.

But we're in two different places. I can't give her what she needs and still stay sane. She can't give me what I need. I need truth, and I need physical and emotional monogamy.

We ended as we began, which is poetic in a strange way. A flurry of email and emotion. In the beginning, I decided to overcome my fear and see what would happen, where life would take me.

In the end, I am glad for the journey that we had. I don't know where I'm going now, but I know that I did the best that I could, and gave all that I had to offer. I did not hold back. I was faithful and honest and I tried to be the best partner that I could be.

I can't see where I'm going, and I don't like being alone, but if that's my path, I'll walk it.

I Can't Escape From Bob Marley

I go to get a haircut, Bob is there. No woman, no cry, yadda yadda etc etc. I go to a restaurant for lunch, and Bob's there, too. Worse, UB40 is also there. UB40 makes everything worse. Waterboarding? That shit ain't nothin' without a little "Red Red Wine" in the background.

Now I'm at Starbucks, and the Reggae Assault continues. It's not that I don't like Bob Marley - I do. Sorta. But it's like he's HAUNTING me today.

Oh Sweet Baby Jesus. They just started playing Mambo #5.

Maybe I should have just stayed home today.

Ask a Hobo!

Dear Hobo,

I think I am addicted to carbs. I can't stop stuffing my face with chocolate, grilled sandwiches, cookies, and instant coffee. My butt is ginormous, and I can't bend from the waist anymore because I don't have a waist anymore. What should I do, and is there any chance it might involve eating even LESS vegetables than I currently do?

Sincerely,
I've Resorted To Wearing Clown Pants

Dear Rolls the Clown,

Have you considered a diet high in pigeon? Pigeon has a number of attributes that could help alleviate your problem.

First of all, they are extremely nasty, and you'd probably get very sick if you ate one. Result: you won't want to eat, and you'll lose weight. If you're looking for a more long-term plan without as many risks, you may want to consider licking a pigeon once a week. Consider it gastronomical russian roulette with wings.

Second, feathers are hollow. That's a lot of air. Result: you'll feel like you're full. Side benefit: Quills are pointy, and will hurt coming out. Think of them as little quill pens, writing encouraging notes to you on the inside of your small intestines.

Finally, good news! Pigeons do not require vegetables to be edible. The downside: you'll need to put the pigeon inside a chicken to make it edible.

Nepal Was Nice But Sherpas Are Dicks

Hello! I thought I'd preface my triumphant return with a complete and total lie. Hope you enjoyed it! I wanted to evoke something exotic, yet sarcastically cynical. It was either that or "Why I Put 43 Bullets in Andy Rooney".

Anyway, I'm back. There was nastiness with work, but I feel like I've got a good handle on it. Most of it has to do with communication, or lack thereof. I have a tendency to sort of not tell people what I'm thinking or what I'm working on, which forces them to reach conclusions that aren't necessarily true, and then I need to explain, and things get all emotional, and it's all totally preventable. What does this mean to you? Updates at least every other day, with no exceptions. Maybe even more. After all, this is a form of communication, and I kinda like you guys and stuff.

ALSO! I am considering passing myself off as an advice columnist. Is there anything you need advice on? It doesn't even have to be real. Just give me a problem, and Gasoline Hobo will give you an answer!* Any takers? Come on, challenge me!

*Warning: Answer may or may not include references to railroads, moonshine, banjos, catgut, sweet potato pie, and/or molasses of some sort. Advice may also be totally inappropriate, and involve a request to do something life-threatening or embarassing for my amusement. Under no circumstances should you actually take my advice, unless you enjoy dying yourself blue, being nibbled to death by beavers, etc.