Here’s the May 22nd, 2025 edition of Hobo Harry’s Wayward Wisdom, penned by lantern light, fresh off the rails, and hot from the sacred cans.
The stars stirred early this mornin’, long before the sun yawned up over the ridge. I woke to the smell of creosote and regret—classic sign that Sagittarius was tossin’ in its sleep again. I did my usual ritual: stretchin’ the spine, crackin’ the knees, sayin’ howdy to the owl in the oil drum. Then I lit up a trash fire with a righteous spark, tossed in some pork rind crumbs, and commenced my trash fire meditation.
You ever stare into a fire so long you start hearin’ your own thoughts talk back in someone else’s voice? That’s how you know you’re doin’ it right.
After settin’ the vibe, I arranged my Twelve Mystic Bean Cans, all buzzin’ like bottle flies with celestial vibrations. Each can has its own sound, its own song—Leo’s roarin’, Aquarius fizzin’, and Pisces hummin’ like a foghorn on a wet dream.
But here’s the real hitch in today’s giddyup:
I’d just gotten done with Virgo’s message (she said: “Keep it tidy, but don’t sort your soul by color”), when I heard a commotion comin’ up from the underpass. A gaggle of festival folk—burned out, body-painted, and smellin’ like incense and marshmallow vodka—wandered into my camp. Said they was lookin’ for the “Tantric Electric Spray Dome,” which I reckon don’t exist in this dimension.
One of ‘em, a glittery fella in roller skates and a top hat, took one look at me and said, “Brother, your aura is BEGGING for radiance.” Before I could stop him, he’d whipped out a portable sprayer the size of a ghostbuster pack and foosh—I got tanned.
I mean TANNED. Top to toes, bronze as a Florida retiree on a golf cart joyride.
Now I’m sittin’ here lookin’ like a caramel apple in a duster coat. My raccoon spirit guide Jasper barely recognized me. He hissed, knocked over my Libra can, and climbed up a pine tree in protest.
Still, there’s a lesson here, I reckon.
🧿 “Sometimes the universe don’t ask if you’re ready—it just sprays you with a new coat and tells you to shine.” – Hobo Harry
Today’s Wanderer’s Wisdoms:
- If a stranger offers you a “radiance upgrade,” ask if it’s reversible.
- A false sun can still cast real shadows.
- Just ‘cause you’re glowing don’t mean you’re enlightened.
- Jasper forgives, but only after snacks.
Stay strange, stay warm, and if you see a man glowin’ bronze by the railyard fence mutterin’ to cans—give him a wave. Might just be ol’ Harry, spreadin’ the word of the stars, one accidental tan at a time.
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🪙 Donations accepted in the form of coffee grounds, poetry, or sandwiches shaped like states.
– Hobo Harry, Bronze Prophet of the Boxcar Zodiac
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