When I first moved out to LA, my buddy, as we walked past scores of homeless on the beach, commented, "see it's not so bad being homeless in LA. You've got a nice beach , nice weather.. if you're gonna be homeless, you may as well be warm and tanned.

Last week I came across an indigent named 'Steve' and his dog, 'Prima.' He lives with his dog and his shopping cart under a tree by my house. Every now and again, I'll bring him some water, food, money and treats for his dog.

In fact one day, I even brought him some weed. Figuring, if you're gonna sleep by the side of the phukcing road, you may as well get high.

Much to my surprise, ol' Steve-O had his own weed. Bags of it. It turns out he knows a few Mexicans who sells bags for a fraction of what I pay... hmmm.. perhaps Steve can hook me up... all I'd have to do is give him about $100 for a nice big bag... what could possible go wrong. I decided against it.

I figure the hardest thing about being homeless - other han rifling through garbage, sleeping on concrete and not showering, is the loneliness. People passing you by all day, day after day only acknowledging you when they step over you on their way to an important luncheon.

With this in mind, I decided to join Steve for a few hours one night. You know, to keep him company - it was only when we got to talking that I realized I'm a complete idiot. Who do I think I am.. what the phuck could you possibly say? How are ya? How was your day? What have you been up to?

There's really not much you can say to a homeless guy without sounding like a dick.

During one of our awkward silences, Steve pulls out some cans of tuna. He held them up and said... "I can't even eat this tuna." Concerned for his well being, I asked if he needed a can opener... I mean shit, this poor guy can't even open his food.

"N'ah" he replied. "These cans have pop up lids, I just don't have any mayo..."

So ya see kids, being homeless in America isn't so bad. Just make sure to stock up on your condiments.