Being homeless in Venice Beach and winding up in a guest house in North Hollywood wouldn't go into my "trials and tribulations" file, but I'll bet it would be a good read.
My homelessness was in Oceanside, California (another place it's a relative cakewalk) and I was amazed at how easy of a life it was, if you didn't care about things like possessions, and privacy, and self-respect.
Took me three months to get the hell out of there, and I've never looked back.
Mr. Ed said I should use his signature, since he's not anymore. In honor of his good friend Nok, here it is: "As far as smoking a cigar," she said, "I'd not know where to start or how to start." "It's simple," said I, "You light one end and chew on the other and hope to meet in the middle."
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