- A hobo used to live in the little alley behind my apartment (which we have affectionately nicknamed "Hobo Alley" in his honour). True story. He lived there for years. But then one day he moved away.
- After about 40 (no exaggeration) one-sided-push-ups-in-slow-motion, 40 upward dogs, and 40 downward dogs (with many more to come), the class was groaning. The yoga instructor was leading the class through the sequence and calling out each pose when she heard us groaning, and went, "..adho mukha svanasana... this is great fun isn't it!" I couldn't help but burst out laughing while steadying myself in my downward dog stretch!
- After a long and gruelling yoga session, I treated myself to a big hearty bowl of spaghetti bolognese from Pellegrini's. Helloooo carbs!
Now and then, I would bump into him on the streets. He drives me wild with fascination - he's always wearing different clothes which always looked clean, he doesn't smell like a hobo, he's always sitting on a bench people watching, and for a hobo he's REALLY chubby!
I saw him today after not seeing him around for a few months, and excitedly sent Brett a SMS to let him know.
Me: I just walked past hobo on Swanston St! He was carrying a Jack London bag?!
Brett: Wow maybe he invented something and is now a rich hobo?!
Me: Hahaha he was wearing bummy clothes but again did not smell bad at all
Brett: Maybe he doesn't want to be outcast from his hobo friends and wants to blend in...