Dark Clouds and Early Hours

    Hello!  Today is a special day.  I spent the night in Bebo's cardboard box last night, as mine was flooded in the torrential downpour.  I  will be forced to steal a new one now, which is sad, because I was very fond of the dear old thing.  Ah, well.  In Bebo's drafty little abode, we huddled on the floor, wrapped in cozy old newspapers with facebooks in hand, and ate pork jerky while listening to the pleasant sound of rain pattering on the cardboard roof of our haven; that is, until the cardboard gave way and we were drenched through with rainwater and soggy bits of box.  We ended up spending the small hours of the morning (until we had to get up at six o' clock) in Razzle, Bebo's car.  Needless to say, we are both extremely tired, so if this blog makes even less sense than usual, do not be surprised or vexed, gentle reader. 
    I'm not entirely certain why today is special; perhaps it seems so because the sun is shining, and I actually ate breakfast this morning.  That must be it.  Breakfast is a wonderful thing, and rather novel.  Usually, if I get any at all, it is some moldy tomatoes and a lump of stale bread that I have scavenged out of a soggy dumpster, but today Bebo and I actually ate scrumpitous waffles with butter and syrup, and I had a lovely eggnog latte!  It was a meal worth dying for!
    Today, we (Bebo and I and a good friend who intends to join our merry academic band next quarter) were driving to the college (for the last time this quarter!!!!!  Yay!!) at seven-thirty in the morning.  It was still mostly dark outside, and rain was lashing the earth in buckets and sheets and waterfalls.  The sky was a deep, murky grey, and the horizon was green.  It was a smidgeon spooky, though very beautiful.  I still, however, say that it is immoral to be awake before the sun is.  I mean, if God really wanted us to be out of bed, he would have roused the sun, right?  Therefore, it must not be God's will for people to be up before eight o'clock in the winter time.  It is simply unglodly to arise sooner...
    Yesterday, Bebo and I had our math finals.  Bebo is convinced that he crashed and burned and died, which is a sure sign that he passed with flying colors and will get an A in his class.  Bebo is always freaking out about something, which is detrimental for a hobo, considering that we live a life of constant danger and derring-do.  I sometimes think that Bebo will die of heart failure while pilfering a dumpster one of these days.  He is very similar to Joe; no one shoot a fake gun at Bebo, either, okay?  I'd hate to be left alone without my two whiskery hobo friends...
    Recently, I decorated my (now flooded) cardboard box with a Christmas tree, complete with lights and shatter-proof bulbs and everything.  No star, though; I ran out of money before I could get one.  At any rate, this Christmas tree is simply irresistable to Fiend, my kitten-companion (she likes to chew on my facebook.  Poor Thumpity-Thump).  Fiend loooooooves to climb into, bat at, sniff, shew on, and hide under the Christmas tree, because she knows that she is not allowed to and it makes me frantic when she does (I have this horrible fear that she will hang or electricute herself, or burn the box down).  That kitten is truly a horrendous Fiend.
    Well, Bebo wants to read the nonsense that I have written, so I will post it to oblige him. 

~Hugo