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Homeless Boxes.

December 31, 2010

I was walking down a street in Mexico. It was desert, but not Summer. All of the locals houses looked like the homeless boxes in Tokyo. The other tourists were all cowboys. They were much scarier than the locals, even though it was a border town. Everybody had a switch-blade. There were stalls by the side of the road. People were selling trinkets. I was offered a tattoo. I declined, and made a brilliant joke about commitment.

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