Dear HOBOs,
I love you. Not just because you grow mustaches or that you really, really know how to have fun over the 4th. Not because you are my brothers and sisters. But because you don't let distance stop you. You say to hell with the fact that we may live hundreds of miles apart 350 days out of the year. You say I am going to include my HOBO brethren in all my good times, even if they can't be there. You say it's time to dial when the mood is right.
I have received many stellar phone calls in the middle of the night from all sorts of HOBOs, short and tall, Italian and Finnish, built like a garbage can and thin like Mike. But there was a call...there was a call. A call that defines all calls, where all HOBOs present took part and wailed for their friend who was their in his heart. A call that lifts your spirit and makes you smile. So without further adieu, here is the call of calls:
Thanks go to Booger, Gregas, Sloppy Blueberries, Wilman, and Smoke for making this possible! Sorry if I missed someone.
Giant, this is an excellent idea. we could have a whole page dedicated to drunk dials. i got a peach drunk dial to add, but i need u to teach me how to do it. i thought i had it figured out, but they wont let me upload an mp3 file to hoboswalk.
hook a brother up.
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