*A dirty man dressed in a cheap suit catches a garbage can unfire. theres numerous milk crates turned upside down...a good place to sit down perhaps?

The names WhistlinBoxCarWillie, I thought a good way to introduce myself would be to set up a jungle on this here street corner and tell you fine folks some tales from the rail. If any of you fellars and fine females have any tales of your own please feel free to share!

*WhistlinBoxCarWillie pulls out a jug of kentucky's finest and passes it around...He begins to speak:

This one time i was south bound to NOLA, i had just caught out of selkirk yard in NY. I made it about 100 yards out of the yard when all of a sudden the train begins to slow. I looked out of the boxcar i was fixin on sleeping in for a few hours and saw several model T's speeding towards the train from both directions. Now, normally this wouldn't even be a problem, but as luck would have it the train i was on just so happened to be on a long bridge when it decided to stop. So here i was with these guys speeding towards both sides of the train from the front and rear of the train. This could only mean one thing...The bulls were on to me. For those of you who are not familiar with what a bull is, its a rail detective. They're wannabe cops who couldnt pass the exam for what ever reason. They're twice as onary and just as quick to deal out a beating. So here i was with all my shit strewn across the boxcar ready to take a nap. So you might be asking old willie what he did then, well first i packed up as good as i could but i still had stuff hanging out of my ruck sac. At that point though i didnt really care about losing a can of beans or some roll your own tobbacoo or anything. I just didnt want to get beat by them there physco paths. I climbed up on top of the boxcar and saw my plight was hopeless...I had one opotion. That was to jump! and jump i did. But as luck had it a barge hauling garbage owned by, you guessed it, derek and craig just happened to be chugging along the mighty hudson river at that momment. So i landed un harmed on a pile of used diapers. Now here comes the fun part. Craig thought I was trying to pillage his stinky collection so he went at my throat like a rapid pittbull. Derek pulled craig off of me and got me all patched up. But, they couldn't totatlly fix me up, so now when i breath i tend to whistle threw my throat hole, hence the moniker WhistlinBoxCarWillie. I also seem to remember derek mumbling something about Chopper being a fat cunt, and fondling me while i was half conscious, but thats a story for another day. and thats the story of how i met the bin dippers.

Any one else got any traveling tales?

Man, I'll never forget how I first got involved in organized crime.  There I was, at Lorenzo's, loading up my slice at the fixin's bar...garlic and whatnot...mmm...ohhh...mmhmmm... and I see this guy over at the pizza boxes giving me the stink-eye.

:Starts jerking back an forth imitating the stink-eye:

So I gave him the old crook-eye back, ya know?

:Jerks back and forth violently, imitating the crook-eye:

And then I realize that he's not alone.  I'm standing off against the entire Van Buren Boys!  You know, the gang named after the 8th president.  And I assure you, they're just as mean as he was.  So I make a move for the door, ya know, but they block it.  So I spring for the bathroom. But the knob won't turn-- Occupado!

And they back me up against the wall.  Right up against that big map of Italy, you know.  And then, all of the sudden, they just stop.

You see, I'm still holding the garlic shaker in my hands.  I'm only holding up 8 fingers.  And Van Buren was the 8th president.  That's their secret symbol.  They thought that I was a former Van B boy!

Well from then on, I had it made.  Free pizza anytime.  Rides anywhere, money out the ass.  I got used to the lifestyle, you know?  I could never go back.  So I found myself employment with an established organization, and I've never looked back.

Oh, yeah, please dont feel bad about tossing some change into the frisco for some more booze. its almost a necessity to keep a good hobo party going.

:Kramer takes a swig out of the jug, grimaces, and passes it along:

Boy, that's some damn good scotch.  And afterwards, you don't even smell!  It doesn't take me much to get drunk.  I'll probably be loose as a goose in no time.  And because it's odorless...why, that'll be our little secret.

Speaking of secrets, you better hope that your bosses don't catch you burning that garbage.  A bin like that would keep them fed for a week!

It's funny you should mention that barge, though.  A story like that reminds me of a story I heard about a gang down south a few years ago.  I think they were called The Lady Killers.  They killed a buncha people, and disposed of the bodies just like that--by dumping them off the bridge into a passing garbage boat.  I forget what it was they robbed.  A casino or a bank.  But it all went to a good cause, from what I remember.

It's not a Johnson-Beckett class 3 approved dippable bin so, it'll be ok. Ive got another tale for you fine folks, but first i have to releave myself in that there alley over thur.

I wish I had a long list of family that was on the Italian side of the house ...but I don't

My mother was just to poor and I was to hard to feed so she dumped me on a street corner and told me to be carful

That was the last that I saw of my mom as she walked off into the dusky evening fog

Heres another quick tale for you fellars.

I had been camping out in the same yard for 3 days straight. I just couldnt seem to find a boxcar that called my name. It was 110 degrees out and i was about to call it quits and take the old shoe leather express and rubber tramp it 50-100 miles down the line to see if id have any better luck or not. But like any self respecting tramp i stuck it out a little bit longer...A little bit too long. I saw a old box car with its doors wide open and i grabbed my gear and chased after it. I tossed my sac in and hoped right on in. I soon noticed i wasnt alone. In the shadows of the box car stood a man of about 5"5 maybe 6"1. he wieghted somewhere between 145-290. i dont remember, i drink alot? Any ways this fat or perhaps skinny varmit extended his hand and mumbled something about people calling him naztyn8. Ive been riding rails with this fellow ever since and hes taught me all i know about bin dipping, which is alot. Now adays we ride the rails, bin dipping, raping and pilledgeing, mostly rape though, we were allways pretty heavy into the rape.

Yeah, I remember those days Whistling!. Crescendo loved it when found him upside down in a Johnson's class 3 and we bumed him. Remember?

Let me explain, was dipping the shit out this bin in NY next to the rails and kept hearing a rhymic whistling noise coming from a nearby broken down box Car. I walked over to the box car and saw an empty jug and a silver flask in this strange clown lookng dude's hand. He was half passed out, He looked up at me with a drunken startled look. I extended my fat ass hand and introduced myself as Naztyn8. I asked him if he wanted a different life where he can eat garbage and is accepted for doing it. Trust me like Craig "fat chopper harris" says only gays dont dip. Whistling says with a drunken slur says "sure!". I then introduced him to the Bin Dippers and ever since then we have been dipping the shit out of everyones bin.

and for the record I was 300+ pounds. I say "+" cause I tipped the scales.

Don't forget about the rape...oh, god the sweet sweet rape......

So, heres a pretty recent tale that just happened yesterday.

I had just gotten home from traveling to my brothers house for thanksgiving. i was tired and cold and all i wanted t ot do was to take a bath and go to bed. So i run the water to the tub and put bath beads and all kinds of luxury items into the tub thinking im going to relax. I go into my room to fetch a new set of cloths to wear. The rug looks raised in several places. I draw closer to my closet and hear squish squish squish...oh shit i say to myself is water and why do i feel like im going to plummet down into the cellar. So i pull up the rug and look at the floor. Oh, shit appearently my floor is jacked up on pallets and i have a plywood floor, how odd i think to myself. But! i also have 6 inches of water underneath said pallets....fuck. I check the closet to see if its my hot water heater, nope dry as can be. so i start to think maybe i got lucky and my cranky old land lady died in the tub while i was gone. I knock on her door and she answers. So i go to the land landy and tell her appearently my apartments flooded out. she calls the plumber and he comes over and tells me this has happened before in this apartment and thats why the floors jacked up like that and that he'll come back tommorow and drill a hole in the real floor to drain it out into the crawl space.

Im pretty pissed about this because it allready smells horribly moldy and the room will be unlivable. I find no other solution to move, but to where?

Heres another one for the mass's to enjoy:

It was a warm july day...the year was 1918 and i was just a young lad. my grandpa had a treat for me that sunday, we were going to town to look at trains! We went to normans general store and he told me to wait in the car. when he came back out he was carrying two ruck sacs, two sleeping bags, a tent, and enough cans of beans to weigh me down significantly. He told me, "today, im giving you the greatest gift, the gift of freedom. you can go anywhere and do anything with what i teach you, so pay close attention." that day he explained to me the intricacy's of train hopping and the different types of cars and the various ways of making money, some legal, others not so much. after listening to everything he had to say he told me to sit down, that he had one final lesson for me. He said nothing and we sat there for damn near 3 hours next to them railroad tracks. Then all of a sudden i heard a whistle in the distance and he told me grab up the gear and be ready. the train neared and i wanted more than anything in the entire world to catch out right then and there. i was just about to hop on, i was doing everthing he had told me to do, but all of a sudden a hand grabbed me from behind and stopped me dead in my tracks. I spun around and screamed nearly crying, why did you do that grandpa, i was so close...he replied"its because that train was a passenger train, its no good for hopping, you'd be put out before the next town and then what would you do? you need to learn patients and the ability to strive through the feelings of defeat." we sat there another 8 hours before a suitable train came by and my then i was very gratious that it had. i looked at grandpa and he nodded at me and told me to go ahead. I found a grainer and started running along side of it> i reached for the ladder and had both hads on the rung. I leaped on and of my feet slipped off almost causing me to tumble to the ground. But your narrator here did just fine and recovered. a few minutes passed and i go worried as i had not seen my grandpa and i started to panic. just when i was contimplating jumping off my grandpa comes jumping down in the the pit from over head. he pulled out a thermos and we had some hot coffee....and that was the tale of the first time i ever caught out.

ZeroSeven took up a seat in one of the empty milk totes. It had been a long day, but even so, he was in a nostalgic mood.


Well, my story is like a lot of others - my life was turned upside down. I was born and raised in Philadelphia - the West side, actually. It wasn't the merriest part of town, but I digress. I went to school, had amazing grades, and, despite not being rich, lived a pretty comfortable life. One day, I, just like now, was in a nostalgic mood and went to the old playground that I used to frequent so often when I was a kid with a few school buddies - I must have been about 19 at the time. Anywho, we managed to play a good round or two of basketball courtesy of a forgotten ball. It was all good times up until these shadowy figures came - dressed in all black. These were the same guys that bullied and caused trouble for us in school, and while we hadn't seem them in years, they were still up to no good..

He shakes his head before continuing.

So, I got into one little fight, and my mom got scared and said that I'd be moving with my auntie and uncle in Bel Air.


He broke his empty gaze at those words to continue.

Changed my life, man. Changed my life.