Last week Chase and I embarked on an urban “exploration” of sorts. The adventure was a success! No one was stabbed by a hobo or succumbed to scurvy and we made the following startling discoveries. We didn’t find a skeleton either. In the drain pipe. A hobo skeleton. With a hat on.

Evidence of beavers, mutant beaver-hobos, or just a really hungry hobo. He would have so very many splinters in his tender hobo gums (tender from hobo-malnutrition).

Jungle thicket. Bambi’s mom may have been shot dead here.

Unbeknownst to us, a red deamon fog was settling in our midst. It continues to haunt us to this very day.

Our triumphant discovery! This innocent-looking hobo den apparently runs all the way under our building. Frothing at the embouchement, it smelt of lye, urine, and phosphates.

Chase staring into the cold, empty abyss of the hobo haven. The darkness is impermeable and infinite, like the soul of a madman.

Conclusion: The darkness beckons.

-Chase and Karl OUT