http://ziza.es/2007/07/23/La_vida_de_vagabundos_americanos_42_fotos.html

I’m a little skeptical of “hobo” as a chosen way of life. Even before today’s electrified railyard fences and bulls authorized to use deadly force there was at least work to be found at the end of the line. Those guys didn’t do it for love of freedom. They were looking for work, or running from the law, or a pregnant wife. These pictures are lovely but I can’t make them add up.

• Firstly some of these are the fattest homeless people I’ve ever seen. Those possum cleaning skills are a mess, so I’m going to guess that possum isn’t what’s usually on the menu. All I’m saying is there must be a few missing shipments of Little Debbie’s Snacks out there.
  
• Love the shanty, but isn’t that door a little too spectacular to be found in a dumpster? That’s like a $400 dollar door. They pull it off a nearby house? When was the last time you saw a door, or a window now that we’re on it, at the dump?
• Where did they land that full bottle of Mad Dog? Let me tell you something, if there is one thing that you will never find in a dumpster, it’s a full bottle of fortified wine. Correct me if I’m wrong, but there are only two possible resting places for the last few swallows of surplus fortified wine (that don’t include warming some poor bastard’s guts): A) poured dramatically down the sink drain of a man in the pit of self loathing, or B) spilled in the ally gutter after a blood soaked hobo duel.
  
• But there’s several bottles in that booze locker there. No one but a confirmed alcoholic could choke down more than a few swallows of MD 20/20 but here’s the funny part. An alcoholic won’t have any more that one bottle of booze at a time. And a group of communal alcoholics wouldn’t be so lovey dovey as this bunch, and they definitely wouldn’t keep all their booze together.

I could go on and on. I love the spirit of this sort of thing but this simply reeks of fakeness… and urine… fakeness and urine….