blog

JOME’S BLOG

Originally only available on his MySpace page, I decided to put what he had up there on here for your reading pleasure. It’s been a while since “he” has written anything, but don’t count him out yet. Last I heard he was on strike or something...

My Official Webpage…

March 12th, 2006

I have my own webpage...the welfare office set it up for me. You can visit it at this address:

theadventuresofjome.com

It's pretty cool...there's some free stories anyway...short ones...

-Jome

Bum Fight

March 12th, 2006

So today I was walking down an alley and these two homeless people were fighting. A third bum was taking bets but I didn't have much money. The guy said I could wager slaps in the face, two to one for the littler guy.

I couldn't say yes fast enough.

I felt bad when the other guy lost. He had wagered a lot of slaps in the face, and I won, two to one...so that's like, a lot more slaps in the face. Like twice as many as I would have got if he had won.

He was good for it. We actually had to take a break after awhile because my wrist started to hurt. In the end I think I started slapping someone else because I got confused about which guy he was...homeless people all look about the same. So I gave everyone there a round of slaps...for good measure.

I went to the welfare office for some ice because my wrist was killing me like something fierce. They always keep ice on hand for me...I wager slaps with people pretty often, and I'm pretty lucky. Once a big burly guy gave me fifty to one odds. I cried at his graveside service. It was embarassing.

Otherwise I've had a good week.

Food Stamps…

March 13th, 2006

I was thinking about getting a job today. The welfare office is always buggin me about it, so I told them I'd think about it just to get them off my back.

"JUST GIVE ME MY FOOD STAMPS!!" I screamed at them.

The new food stamp system is great. You used to have actually carry around these little stamps, they were sticky on the back and everything. You'd go into the store to get some Egg Nog or something, and then you reach into your pocket to get your food stamps, but all you'd get would be this sticky wad, especially when they got wet. That was the worst. You'd get into these ridiculous arguments with the store clerk on how many stamps we were looking at.

"This is clearly four stamps thick," I would say.

"I'm sorry Sir, I can only redeem the visible stamps on the top."

So then you'd have to walk away with, like, a forth less Egg Nog than you could have gotten, which pretty much ruins Christmas.

I'm pretty thirsty for some Nog...

So anyway, the new system is great. It's like a credit card, and you can just take it to an ATM and pull out real cash, which can be used to buy pretty much anything you want, small arms, military grade shells, whatever you need. And the cards don't get damaged in the rain! Christmas has never been better. Before it was, "how much Nog am I going to be able to score?" Now it's, "what's really missing from my personal arsinal?"

Maybe the Military Surplus Shack is hiring...

gum

April 25th, 2006

So I was coming to the library to use the computers to check my email (I had none) and on my way in I felt my shoe stick to the ground. Sure enough, I had stepped in someone's carelessly discarded chewing gum.

Joy.

I used to get angry when this happened, but I have since realized that the chewing gum that collects on the bottom of my shoes is actually quite useful. I have used it to hide all sorts of things all over the city. I have knives stuck to the bottom of nearly half of the city's park benches, and in some locations I have stuck heavier weaponry. Behind the bread outlet, I have an AK-47 stuck to a drain pipe via thirty or so bits of gum I had collected over the space of two months. And behind a rack of discount clothing at the variety store, I have three hand grenades and two smoke canisters stashed.

So far my squirreling away of weapons around the city has resulted in little more than a sense of security and, perhaps, entitlement. I merely have to mention the availability of such weaponry at hand to get what I want.

Once at the welfare office I was getting some crap from one of the employees about "drinking all the coffee" and "going on a rampage" which I don't even remember doing.

Anyway, I locked eyes with him and described the forty needles I had stuck via chewing gum around the welfare office, and he backed right down. I would have stayed around to get some coffee but I think he pushed a silent alarm or something cause then everyone was looking at me, and about three people had started looking for needles.

Anyway, I gotta go. I've got this gum in my pocket and a hunting knife just itching to hang behind this monitor.

deadly

May 12th, 2006

I bumped into this guy on the street today with a T-Shirt that said "Want to forge a Deadly Alliance?"

Of course I took him up on it. I was like "YES!" and after I caught up with him (took a few blocks to get him a corner) I explained my exclamation and convinced him that it was in the best interests of both of us that the alliance was forged.

After he finally agreed, we set a date the meet up later in the afternoon. He had to go to work or something, so I kicked around the city for a bit...checked some of my weapon stashes (all there) and finally he showed up, fifteen minutes late.

I reamed him out. How can I count on someone in a deadly situation if my alliance member is untimely? I used his lateness as an excuse to take the lead position in the alliance. This allowed me to save the excuse I was going to use to force the issue, which was that I had already been in two deadly alliances in the past and had more experience, which wasn't really true. I had been in one deadly alliance, but the other guy was dead, so it was a different kind of deadly.

And I was lying when I said two. I couldn't risk a tie.

Anyway, now I can use that excuse tomorrow to buy eternal shotgun rights for when we go on the bus, which I might be able to force my way onto now that I am a part of a deadly alliance. I haven't been on a city bus in nearly a year. Apparently you can't transport bombs via bus. I wasn't planning on blowing up the bus, but the bus driver took it all wrong when I slammed his face against the steering wheel.

I was angry.

So...I'm meeting up with my partner tomorrow, again, after he gets of "work". That's another thing I'm going to have to talk to him about...all this working. It's just going to be another thing that comes between us...that and his habitual lateness.

Tomorrow we're supposed to decide if we are going to be a force of good or of evil...I'm leaning fifty-fifty...

Jail Time...

July 13th, 2006

Wow...the last two months have been a blur. Let me start by saying that at least one of those two months I cannot account for at all. And I am no longer a part of a deadly alliance. It was...dissolved you could say.

Hang on....

Ok, the Librarian walked by...I had to duck. I'm not really supposed to be in here anymore. They found some of the knives...

Anyway, last I was able to write I had forged a deadly alliance with this guy I met on the street. I finally got around to talking to him about this "job" of his...you could say I forced the issue. He worked for some record company or something, but I took care of that.

After the fires were put out they found the incendiary devices. He started pointing fingers at me, which I viewed as a serious breach of our alliance. How can we be deadly if we can't cover for each other when one of us has to burn down the other's place of business? I DID IT FOR YOU!! WHY COULDN'T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT!!!!

Anyway, I spent some time in lockup...about ten minutes. After that they had to move me to solitary on an account of my beating one of my many cell mates within an inch of his life. He wouldn't share his socks. He had two, I only wanted to borrow one.

I'm pretty sure that I went insane in solitary. I don't remember much...

When I got out the first thing I did was dissolve our deadly alliance. I think he had formed a new one with someone else while I was "on the inside" anyway. Unfaithful.

Soooo now I’m just kinda bumming around again. I’ve sadly discovered that nearly half of my weapon stashes were raided while I was in jail but I’m too worn out to try and rearm. Plus my food stamps have been cut off again, since the jail time. I was thinking about burning down the welfare office but I can’t risk another stretch locked away. I have to protect the weapons that I have left.

I think It might be going crazy...not serious crazy, just homeless crazy. I seriously need to find somewhere to live.

new job

August 7th, 2006

Ok, so I'm out of my funk I had going there. The fact that my food stamps got reinstated probably helps. I'm back into the arms business.

A condition the welfare office put on my reinstatement to the program was that I begin looking for a "job." I started to explain the arms deals I was working but Shirley (my welfare contact lady) began to look concerned. I don't like worrying her so I started coughing to change the subject.

I had trouble explaining the sandy blood flecks left over from my coughing spree. I started with the truth (time spent in the dessert with the Foreign Legion) and ended up shifting it a partial lie (time spent in a sand pit on the city golf course). I had spent a summer in the sand pit of the city golf course, but only because I had never been to the beach. And the ducks were delicious.

Anyway, so Shirley gave me the grand master listing of jobs currently available in the city. They were alphabetical, and there was quite a few of them. I immediately skipped down to the M's in search of an opening in the position of City "Matador." I figured the number of cows I had killed in the last few years would give me and edge over any Spanish guy gunning for the job.

There wasn't an opening for City Matador. I'm not sure there even was a position of City Matador, which is a huge security oversight in my mind. I was about to draft a letter on the back of a Coffee Mart receipt to the city saying as much, when another of the "M" jobs caught my eye:

City Mayor.

I'll let you know how the campaign goes...

New webpage…

August 25th, 2006

check out my cool new webpage...so offical, so fancy...

xoxox
Jome

mr mayor

November 18th, 2006

Well, let me tell you that politics isn't all that it's cracked up to be. First, I didn't realize that you had to get elected to the position of city mayor. I figured that I just had a couple of interviews to get through, maybe a drug screening...but I was so wrong.

It's the fact that no one respects your personal life. That's what really got to me. And then the photos came out. There were so many newspaper building and reporter's apartments to burn down I didn't know where to start.

And then the smear campaigns...the "Paid for by the Dairy Farmers of America" ads were particularly damaging. Apparently my platform of "city security" and "army of matadors" didn't catch on with the voting public.

Whatever...

Now I'm back to square one, looking for a job to satisfy Shirley...keep my sweet, sweet food stamp cards coming...

Oh, and my publisher would like me to wish you a happy "Jome Unawareness Awareness Day...only twelve days away!"

(Talk about stupid campaigns...)

dumpster

January 22nd, 2007

Ugh...today I woke up in a dumpster. Even homeless people have standards...not high standards mind you...I've woken up in all sorts of places...culverts, irrigation ditches, recycling bins, garbage cans, garbage trucks, garbage men's homes, garbage processing facilities, trash compactors, trash incinerators...but never in a dumpster.

I guess it's not a big deal, the difference is just semantics. The point is that I could really use a shower but I've used up all my shower tokens from the YMCA. And by "used" I mean bet and lost at the greyhound track.

I always bet on number nine. Number nine always comes through, but not this one time that I bet all my tokens. You'd think it would be easy to break those skinny little greyhound legs, but it isn't. Either way, he won't be competing again...getting guys hopes up...dashing them...dashing their shower tokens...on the hard, stinky floor of failure...

I really need a shower...

June 30th, 2007

Wow, it's been a while since I've been in here to check my email...I finally got around to it because my biographer has been bugging me for more material. He hates it when I don't check in with him, when I go "off the radar".

Well what does he expect?! I am homeless after all!! Stuff happens all the time where I can't get to the library to do email! Blackouts, passouts, knockouts, fall outs, fall downs, put downs, put aways, lock aways, lock ups, lock downs, tear downs, pant tears, bear tears, bear claws, bear bits, cat bites, dog bits, dog fights, night fights, fight clubs, clubbings, beatings, maulings, killings, maimings, hatings, hate crimes, jail times...

You get the idea. I can get tied up with all sorts of homelessness issues and it's really hard to break away to check my email. Or write a blog entry. It's just not real high on your priority list when there is a A.P.B. out for a "tall white male, horrific hair, possibly homeless, may have perpetrated a slap down, repeat, slap down, approach with caution," etc.

Although, the library can be a good place to hide out...if uh....one were hiding.

Strike

November 30th, 2007

So my contract says I have to write a post today, something the marketers "thought up" my publisher says. I'm not really sure why, what the big deal is about today...

Well since they've been SO FREAK'N LAZY about getting the third book out, maybe I'll throw a little strike...be a little lazy myself....

STRIKE!

All strike breakers will be slapped down, hog tied, and told to.

Our demands are as follows:

Thirty throwing knives

Ten-Pack Israeli hand grenades

Four tuna sandwiches, crusts cut off

You have four days.