Hungry. God Bless.

Get to Know the Homeless

by: Juan Carlos

Vagrant, destitute, down-and-out, bum, hobo, transient, tramp, gutterpup, drifter, bag lady. These are some of the fun things to yell at homeless people. However, have you ever gotten to know one of these hopeless dregs? The answer is probably "no." That is about to change with a groundbreaking new series that will introduce the masses to many of our beloved Northwest Arkansas bums.

The first homeless person profiled in this series is named Dabney Mullins. He works the ramp off of I-540's Bentonville exit at mile marker 85. He told me that this is a prime location due to all the Wal-Mart corporate traffic that goes by. He has also set up a nice hovel under the bridge adjacent to his business. Dabney's marketing strategy is direct and gets his selling points across. He went with the basic cardboard and sharpie option package with his signage. It simply reads, "Hungry. God Bless." He explained his tactic, "You see, everyone can relate to being hungry, so I went that route. Hits every demographic. Also, in this part of the country, most people are Christians. That's why I threw that last part in." Dabney's choice of uniform is a brilliantly depressing flannel coat and torn jeans. He accessorizes nicely with a generic baseball cap and crazy beard. "The more random stuff I get stuck in it," he tells, "the more people think I'm nuts. And that translates into positive cash flow. I've also found that mumbling insane gibberish to myself also boosts my profits."

Since most people are curious about how one becomes and stays homeless, but are too afraid or repulsed to ask, I put the tough questions to Dabney.

Juan Carlos: How did you become a drain on society?

Dabney Mullins: I was a high-powered executive at Wal-Mart and one day suggested in a meeting that the company might want to rethink its gun selling philosopy. I was summarily fired, my house was burned down, all assets were seized, and my wife was forced to fellate a goat. I was blackballed from every company that does business with Wal-Mart, which is all businesses, and ended up on the streets.

JC: Sounded like you got your just desserts. Wal-Mart not selling guns is like George Bush not using a Magic 8 Ball to make all his important decisions. You actually got off lucky in my book.

DM: I suppose you're right.

JC: I am. What are your plans for the future?

DM: I imagine more panhandling until I freeze to death.

JC: Sounds promising. Do you harbor any ill will to the liberal, pinko Democratic party for keeping you homeless?

DM: What?

JC: You know, those left of the aisle, commie, homosexual lovers. They have blocked the GOP's every move to eradicate homelessness and have everyone come to Jesus. Doesn't that enrage you?

DM: Are you insane?

JC: Yeah, I'm insane. Which one of us makes $30K a year, drives a sweet Hyundai Santa Fe, and goes to bed with a former junior college volleyball intermural alternate and which one of us lives under a bridge, drinks his own urine, and has relations with dead squirrel carcasses. I am clearly living the American Dream.

DM: You sure are. Can you spare any change?

JC: Hey Dabney, why don't you get a job or better yet, go f*** yourself?