HOBO-A was down and out again. The bottle had taken it's fill of time and space. Walking slowly with a cup of coffee spilling over his hand, as he slumbered along the pavement. Lost to himself and all cognition of reality at the moment.
By a chance encounter, the friend had seen him. Walking over, demised the status of HOBO-A. "things looking down HOBO-A". YEA, been in the bar, need some work, you got the picture. My act got ragged again, need the next act.
Well HOBO-A, your going into those bars, which you made, ALTERS OF WORSHIP. You have made your temple and sit on a stool in abstract prayer, drinking oblations of ALCOHOL to your idol god - ALCOHOL. You know, that BIG MOM TV. makes it all glitzy and cool in the unreal world.
People go to worship once a week in church and spend the other days in there bar temple alters worshiping. You need to sit with your Bible and tune into GOD. Like I told you before, all this show here on earth ends one day. Then, GOD, is going to look and see, who you really gave your heart, soul, mind and strength to. REPENT HOBO-A--REPENT. See you again soon.