A whale of a tale

All the local hobo's and their tiny hobo juniors met just after dark near the tracks.

It was story night off the slab and tonight Pissbag and Bobby were tell a tale of the tide.

Everyone had recently come home from a trip to the ocean and all the wonderfully filthy children, liked best the way the water ebbed and chased.

Once everyone's cans of pork and beans had been open and Snotbox's mom gave everyone their shiney silver spoons- Pissbag appeared from behind a sheet hung from two Uncle Jeff's.

'Ladies and Gents tonight we hear one whale of a tale- how the tides got their game.'

Bobby shook a piece of plastic in the air real hard and it made a weird woobly noise everyone enjoyed.

"Now- we already learned about all biggest hobos on the grid- whales."

Bobby held up a poster with the symbol for 'whale crossing' on it. The kids laughed.

"Whales, like all other brothers and sisters fart- but one whale fart is like 700 people farts for 5 minutes. That is power. That is movement. That is pressure from the depths of the ocean that keep on rollin through the water."

Bobby wobbled the plastic again.

"At night, with the help of the gravity of the moon, all those whale farts eventually start to catch up with one another and cause a wake of sorts."

Bobby wobbled.

"At the fart bubbles pop and merge the displaced energy causes the water to churn back and forth on the shores."

Bobby wobbled once more.

"All that sand that has been played on all day needs to be washed you see. Those whales are not just doing as nature bids, their fart waves are helping the ocean clean the beaches."

Bobby held up another large sign this time with the symbols for 'clean living here'.

"In fifty years, by the year 2000 if we don't make sure the future protects all those whales, the beaches will become filled with trash. Wouldn’t that be such a terrible situation?"

Bobby wobbled once more, and all the children agreed.