I just had the best idea. You know how every holiday season there are all kinds of acts of kindness like "Feeding the homeless" or "Donating toys at Starbucks" or "Serve Egg Nog at senior citizen homes?"
I'm going to have a "Sannyhat for Crackheads" drive. In these hard economic times, no crackhead should be without a sannyhat. I'll set up my booth right in front of the "Donuts & Burgers" shop on 6th. Mmmm Yummy. That's where Candyman hangs. You know Candyman. You don't know Candyman? Oh... well. Let me introduce you to Candyman. He is a 7'tall scary black man who looks like Candyman, acts like Candyman and will probably kill you in 2 seconds flat like Candyman. He attacks busses and throws newspaper stands into the middle of Market Street. One time he walked up to me really close and asked for a cigarette and I urinated on myself.
It's easy to be fooled by Candyman and think he's harmless. This is because he has a pet rooster. A real rooster. It sits on his shoulder when he walks or he carries it under his arm. He shares spaghetti with his rooster that he gets for $1.59 from Donuts & Burgers. He puts the styrofoam container right down on the urine-soaked cement riddled with pigeon poop and uses a fork while the rooster picks at the strings.
It was that day that I finally said to myself, "I have now officially seen it all." Before, every time I said that I was outdone. But to this day, I still strongly believe that Candyman and Rooster is the icing on this shitty, dirty cake we call San Francisco.
Tuesday, December 14, 2004
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I haven't seen him with the rooster in a while, and I assume he just ate it one day.
One day, he came on the bus (without paying, of COURSE) and he stuffed the rooster under his army jacket. He then did summersaults down the isle -- a feat considering he had a rooster stuffed under his jacket and it was rush hour.
No one DARED tell him to stop doing summersaults, or get off the bus, or even look at him in the eye for that matter.
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