Rather Philosophical if you don’t think about it.
 

Which Bum doesn’t belong?
If you guess wrong (or right) you are a bum.
 

Zaghaven has a way of wearing a place down.  It must have been an Amoco at some point.

The Gasmask Girls were so into smoking cigarettes that they had constantly burning tobacco rigged into these old gasmasks.  They struck terror up and down Sorgum Ave. until the Emphysema Boys showed ‘em what time it was.

They had really good taste in music, though. They always won the annual Zaghaven Talent Show, when they would finally remove their masks and sing a doo-wap rendition of Somewhere Over The Rainbow.

That’s Deenie and Lourdes. Deenie stuck a lit match in her little brother’s ear, then did it again and again until she was sure she’d broken it. Lourdes just watched as her 6th grade camp councilor fell of the back of sailboat, hit his head, and drowned.

Esther and Barb. Esther convinced her little sister that she was part tree. Thank God they dug the little dummy up before her heart stopped. Barb made a lovely soup using the family parakeets.

Trixie and Patty.  They were the worst. Trixie carved her initials into every single guy she ever made out with and ate all the scabs.

But Patty, she was the don. While slowly poisoning her parents by sneaking bits of wild mushrooms from her backyard into their oatmeal, she slowly convinced them that she’d never existed. The story goes that, after putting them through an excruciating 3 years of pain and delusion, when she finally had them near-dead in their beds, she just evaporated into thin air. Some people say that she was never real and that her parents had forced her into being using witchcraft, voodoo, and some magic beans. In support of this there is no record of her being born at Zaghaven General, and there are no aunts, uncles, or grandparents to ask about the birth.

Everyone does remember the summer when she killed all the dogs in Zaghaven, and when she burned down the day camp, and when she went on a graffiti binge in 1955.  There was’t a wall that didn’t say FUCK YOU on it.

Beyond Motrin exists a pharmacy willing to go the extra mile in helping to treat the diseases other medical professionals consider to be “skippy-doo” or “not diseases”.  Take a zipline to the Sixth Borough today and visit the Zaghaven Pharmacy.  Not only is it old school, the pharmacist is mad old. If you’re going, be sure to eat a quart of ice cream. Eat it up fast, like a little pig, so that you get brain freeze, aka AN ICE CREAM HEADACHE. Man I get one of these every time I eat ice cream, which in the summer is every fifteen minutes. And that means my brain is always killing me.

Not to worry! At Zaghaven Pharmacy you can get these over-the-counter Ice Cream Pills. Some people say they work just as well as waiting for the Ice Cream Headache to wear off on its own but I say that the yellow ones taste like BANANA!

You can’t stop the Sixth Borough!

When Pac-Man’s not feeling too good, he gives his doctor a urine sample and they send it here.  You can also get Super-Eight film developed here.

La Cholla has it all.

Potatoes.

Families eating dinner.

Sombrero/Volleyball Combination Deals.

Lotto.  Mad Lotto.

Old candy rack. Hey I like old rotten candy. It has that gourmet feel to it. Like Blue Cheese.

Stylish Sunglasses.

A decent selection of books.  Especially, “Whatever Happens to KITTENS?”

Nuts.  Some Hot, some Fresh.

Some stuff costs 5¢.  Honeycove Bears are 30¢.

They have swords.  Rubbish bought the King’s Sword.

The Used Crutches section is a straight up bargain.

More Bustelo than you could ever dream about.

They had a modest little Halloween section.  Harem seems like a not-good costume for a little girl.

Or a big girl for that matter.  What are you for Halloween, ma’am?  “I am Harem!”

Squeezey boob balls.

They had the old Matchbox display.

In the back they this tremendously impressive selection of 2 dollar sneakers.  They smelled like gasoline.

Countless treasures in the back-back.

What a place! They accept trades and sell 25¢ dixie cups of Tang. They also have performances on Thursday nights.

All the other Welcome Mats in the city don’t rock the boat. They take the name of their “father” (inventor Matt Feldspar) and they lay on the floor like they’re supposed to. They keep themselves fit and clean and put on a good show. Dead fish, I call them! They don’t know the meaning of the word WELCOME (as in, “WELL? What are you waiting for? COME on on in!!”).

Not Seth! Even when he was just a teeny tiny baby welcome mat, he prayed for cockroaches to cross his threshold. The only good Welcome Mat is one that’s worn and filthy.  Sadly, that greatness comes at a cost. Seth is totally brain damaged from all that wiping and getting stepped on. He dribbles milk when he eats his cereal in the morning and he always wonders why he is on the television program he is watching when he watches “Friends” (but I guess Chandler is a dead ringer for Seth).  On the bright side he is getting married to Pamela, the dirt-black splotch of old bubblegum on the concrete that is about 12 inches off camera, to the right. Pamela’s pretty stupid too, but she was always a dipshit, even when she was just a brand-new 14-inch strip of Bubble Tape.