It's seven o'clock on the dot

Actually, it's 1 a.m. and I'm watching Home Alone. Happily. I believe it to be one of the best Christmas movies and I'm feeling all pumped full of holiday juices and nogs. After three months of crouching on the floor to use my computer, I purchased a desk and chair from IKEA this afternoon. I almost added a stick of wrapping paper to my cart, but decided I'd rather be thrifty and buy a thick roll of plain brown paper, a set of Christmas ink stamps, and some green and red paint. Yeah, baby. That one's from me.

I went to San Francisco to visit my friend Anna last week and had a blast on several levels. We ate a ton of sushi, walked and talked all over the place, and sailed under the Golden Gate bridge on a $10 charter boat. The homeless men and women of California are quite hostile and foul-mouthed. The following quips were either overheard or shouted directly at us as we passed:

: "Go ahead and put your tit in your ass!"
: "You girls are filthy virgins and you need two tampons."
: "You can't dress. Bitch, you can't dress."
: "We're all adults here."

I'm interested in the difference between New York's homeless and San Francisco's less passive, more aggressive homeless. I've relayed my experiences to a few New Yorkers, and they seem to believe that New York's homeless know they wouldn't get away with such nonsense, lest they be rewarded with some heavy, bagel-lovin' discipline. What about the homeless in, say, Wyoming? Are they scared? Are they assholes? Or are they just bored and sick of eating boll weevils?