Riff-Raff

After breakfast this morning, I drove into East Saint Louis to get my mandatory vehicle emissions test done. Plenty of run-down buildings and unkempt shrubbery, but this post's title doesn't refer to anything on "east-side." No, I was already back in Missouri, getting off at my exit--in a respectable part of town--where I saw a man on the corner.

This guy couldn't have been older than 25, couldn't have been younger than 18. He had a "punk" look about him: shirtless, lots of metal on his face and nipples, donning terrible mustard-plaid pants and black combat boots. He sure didn't look dirty, so he couldn't have been "on the streets" for too long. And his sign, this was the kicker. A piece of cardboard with three words, no request, even:

Traveling
Ugly
Broke

So what did he want us to do?!