This fat bastard has been on the corner of Adams and LaSalle, in front of the Brooks Brothers in the Rookery building, for yonks. His manual of operation, during the years I’ve had the honor to pass by him and not contribute dick to his GDP, is always being on his knees (on concrete), holding out a hat and with a fake tear or two streaming down his face. I am not a heartless person who has no compassion for poor and starving people. There are starving people all over the world that I feel quite terrible for. However, all of these starving people have a couple of things in common:
1) They are not wearing a brand new Allen Iverson3 football jersey
2) They are not 125lbs overweight
I am not going to delve into the subject of why you would ever buy the jersey of a player in a sport they don’t play. This is a black cultural thing that I am not meant to understand. Sort of like how spectators at a golf tournament who are there to watch and not play golf, wear their fucking golf spikes, is a white cultural thing that black people are not meant to understand. But I digress. You’ve got to sell it to me buddy. Don’t cry to me about how you are starving and need some food when you’re sitting flush with AI3 gear and have eaten yourself into type 2 diabetes.