The Way We Live Now: At home. With Ma. And Pa. And the leaky basement pipes, and the laundry machine, and our broken dreams. And the jug we rent from the United Homeless Organization. It's a living, hey! Amirite?
No, it's not just "Some Imaginary Trend We Made Up From Our Imagination Cause It Seems Like The Sort of Thing That Would Happen In a Recession." Adults really are moving home to mom and dad's place, because the [DREAM JOB IN MANHATTAN] just couldn't afford to keep them on.
We won't make a joke because, ha, who knows who might be next? Maybe us! We're somewhat confident now that we've procured a more stable career, though: We rented a little jug from the United Homeless Organization, then we stand at a table with the jug, see—right outside the Starbucks on Spring Street—and shake it, and say "penny, nickel, dime or a quarter..." in a sing-songy voice until people feel guilty and give us their meager change. Then we keep that money, and the head of the UHO takes his cut and pays his rent and cable bill and shit.
It's all a scam, technically. Although, what, do you want your 15 cents back, cheap Starbucks bastards? If the people holding the jugs really are homeless, well, then, it's helping homelessness, so, shut up.
It's not so bad being homeless these days. You don't have to live with mom and dad. You don't have to worry about an underwater mortgage. You don't have to go bowling with other jerks who are unemployed in order to "network." You don't have to do much at all, except shake that jug of change, and worry about how you're going to meet your basic needs without dying in the cold, heartless streets.