My Dog Is A Greedy Jerk

I'm tired of ripping trash out of my dog's mouth. She picks up every bit of trash off the sidewalk and tries to eat it, then I have to jam my fingers in there and pull it out.

New Haven is full of litter bugs, dirty filthy Yalie litter bugs and it's annoying. Litterbugs are annoying. You pigs. Ok, it's great that you go to an ivy league institution - you're proud and you may have even worked hard to get there. It's not interesting, though. You tell people you went to Yale or Harvard or one of those and some people will respect you more for having gone and some will respect you less. You know what's interesting? Having been homeless. You tell people you were homeless, now that's a conversation starter. People don't really care what you did at Yale or Harvard, but they'd want to hear all about the trials and tribulations of your homeless self. Also, the homeless don't really scatter their trash, they keep it neat and tidy in shopping carts. Why can't you be more like the homeless, Yalies, and stop littering so much?

What makes a Yalie interesting?

“Well, I founded a local historical society and we started a happy hour club in the library to--” PFFT. BFD. I get drunk near books all the time.

What makes Fat Frank, resident of the underpass, tick? He'll tell me if I bring him home and let him take a hot shower. I'll tell my husband that Fat Frank has a meeting he has to prepare for. I'd be scrambling through a dozen questions to him before resorting to bribing them with scraps of food or a can opener or whatever other morsel of civilization I could use as a bargaining chip for information.