Thirty-three years

Yesterday my parents celebrated their thirty-third anniversary. They amaze me, my mom and dad. They are as different as night and day, but they love each other, and they somehow work. They make me smile. I love my parents.

Happy anniversary, Mom and Dad.
 

Hobo beatdown!

I have had a very disturbing experience.

In the Wii version of the Godfather game, one occasionally comes upon the odd impoverished transient, commonly known as the "hobo," on the streets of 1940s New York. I am fascinated by these creatures in their natural habitat, and make a point of addressing them when I encounter them. This usually results in my unintentionally giving them money, but that's okay, I am amused enough by their presence to not mind so much being separated from my cash.

But despite my being a friend to hobokind, they have turned against me. I went into an alleyway and came upon a gang of hobos loitering there. I was planning on seeing if they had anything useful to sell me, such as guns or dynamite, but instead, completely unprovoked, they turned on me and attacked me! I was the recipient of a hobo beatdown! One of them even had a lead pipe. :-( I was forced to slaughter all four of them with a few quick blasts of my trusty .38 Special, but I was very scarred by the experience. I thought I could commune with the hobos, but apparently they are vicious beasts that can turn on you at any moment.