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6 GROUNDCOVER NEWS FUN Happyscopes for the holidays Hi readers, hope you enjoy your Happyscope! Libra: Sept 23-Oct 23 Decorating for the holidays is not a debate! Let go and show your skills. It's ok. Balance career and personal time to allow for the joy and money to flow. Scorpio: Oct 24-Nov 21 Let’s take time to relax and allow that passionate side to emerge. Decorate this year with others, designing lots of joy and peace. Sagittarius: Nov 22-Dec 21 Yes, it’s adventure time. The holidays will propel you into joy and peace. Pick vibrant colors this season that ring in happiness. Capricorn: Dec 22-Jan 19 Freeze the boss in you! Allow others to help you FELICIA WILBERT Groundcover vendor No. 234 on you. Giving part of yourself will bring out the peace within. Flowing waters come from smiles that are shared. Pisces: Feb 19-Mar 20 Swimming in a straight line is better than swimming in a circle. Your imagination shall create a joyous blow hole. Aries: Mar 21-Apr 19 Yes, you always this season. Dancing with a friend or family member is a step to prosperity and peace. Aquarius: Jan 20-Feb 18 Hello independent one, don’t forget others count get the job done. You’re a bold and courageous one! Hugging is not a crime. Love is knocking at your door, don’t run. Taurus: April 20-May 20 Stepping slowly is the same as stomping your feet. Learn to glide, freeing up your love. Gemini: May 21-Jun 21 Trusting yourself to make decisions makes you hit the bullseye. Love has been looking for you, open the door and allow love to enter. Cancer: June 22-Jul 22 You are spot on when it comes to knowing your business. Reach out and aid others in decorating. Spin the truth of trust and hope to others. Leo: Jul 23-Aug 22 Hold up. Don’t roar at others, we know you got it all together! Allow someone else to take charge! Hunt for the intangible things in life. Virgo: Aug 23-Sept 22 It’s creativity time — let’s shine and embrace that decorative side. Projects can create prosperity during the holidays. OCTOBER 17, 2025 Lies in paradise TOMMY SPAGHETTI Groundcover vendor No. 669 Glossary of terms: Hell = Detroit, Paradise = A2, Devil's Weed = marijuana, Oracle = Groundcover News, Oasis = AADL, Craycray = insane, Lies = story, Mboob = girl friend, Scrilla = U.S. currency, Poison = coffee, Drip = time Why would anyone want to be homeless? The answer to me is twofold. 1) To experience something different from a normal experience. 2) To create a written article compelling enough to be published in the great Groundcover News. I have submitted several articles, but the only article published recently was an article about home demolition in Hell and a housing activist. Thus my personal foray into the homeless subculture is predicated on the simple idea that I can be inspired by Barbara Ehrenreich's "Nickled and Dimed,” a book depicting the economic prospects of 9-5 living. Barbara adopted a fictitious name and attempted to earn a living in three different cities for a month at a time. A living based on a 40-hour work week. One month as a waitress; one month as a maid; one month at Walmart. The parameter of this current journalistic endeavor is not as formulated as “Nickled and Dimed.” My intentions are more personally motivated. Barbara’s "Nickled and Dimed" has a much broader extrapolation. Her truth implicates a minimum wage capitalistic society built on trickle-down economics within the scope of high consumerism. My writing aspires to merely entertain the literate plebiscite of Washtenaw County. This is how it started: A domestic argument quickly transmutes into name-calling, which prompts me to leave my house on foot. Heel toe to the Shame Train 3 km gives me ample drips to review our situation. Normally, I vacate M-boob’s house in the summer, finding it easier to flop elsewhere in warm temperatures. This past summer I decided to stay and tough it out, believing that a good relationship is worth fighting for. September 25, 2025, I left M-boob and the comfortable living arrangement (long overdue for failure). Heel toeing to the Shame Train on Woodward, I board the #46 surreptitiously running into cray cray, a local yokel. She is expert at foraging the woods for edible plants. “Do you have an ink pen I can borrow?” I ask her. “No I don’t,” the woman said. “I would like to interview you for the Oracle,” I said. “Sure,” she replied. A few more questions garner only vague answers, so I give up. Thankfully our Shame Train enters the Hargrove transit center on State Fair. Rivka: “I’m going shopping.” “I’m going downtown,” I said, where a flurry of activity awaits. As the Shame Train edges into Grand Circus Park, it becomes evident that there are two sporting events taking place in Hell. A sports fanatic wearing a Lions Jersey informs me that season tickets cost $3,700, proving my theory of NFL Billionaires hiring millionaires to play for thousandaires — that’s trickle up economics. As a writer I know that readers like excitement in their lives, so I can tell you as soon as I got downtown, I purchased a can of Liquid Death, in stark opposition to bottles of H2O. I approach a plastic cab driver, “Do you have an ink pen I can borrow?” “No, but in a few hours you can find one on the ground.” We both dart our eyes to the curb. Crossing Woodward on foot, “Do you have an ink pen I can borrow?” “No, sorry.” I ask a cop, a Jehovah's witness, no and no. The ink pen came from a musician named man. I spied the horn player. “Can I borrow an ink pen?” I asked. “Maybe, if I have one,” he said. Rifling through his backpack, he produces an inkpen. “I don’t know if it works,” he said. “Thanks, man!” I take three steps back from man, then stop and turn around. Rifling through my pocket, I produce three crumpled up dollars. "Here man, this is to prime your tip basket,” I said. Man accepted the donation, citing, “My name is Lawrence.” With this ink pen, I could start this journalistic endeavor to become homeless in paradise. Day 1: Prompted by the often piqued question, "Where did you sleep last night?" The query speaks loud and clear to me as I traipse through my day. I don’t think about WWs, but rather, “What will I eat now?” With an uncounted fist full of scrilla, I heeltoe to the Shame Train in Hell. On to paradise then Ypsilanti where I witnessed part of the Bread and Puppet theater in Riverside Park at Totally Awesome Fest. I arrive just in time for the performance but a compromised seating reveals only a partial performance. If I am going to be successful at this homeless thing, or unsuccessful at living, I am going to need to become better at managing skills. It has never been my strong suit. I loved math as a child but the discovery of devil’s weed prevented me from seeing the benefits of advanced math. I stayed high throughout junior high and high school. Being homeless only requires addition and subtraction. Culling the scrilla from my pocket, I methodically added up the total (in real time) — $5.50. Before I run out of drips I’d like to ink yesterday’s lies in my journal. At the 24 hour diner (Stickerhaven) I sit down to scribble away. “Poison,” the craycray waitress asks. “Do you have decaf?” “No sorry.” I acquiesce. For the purpose of obfuscating the facts and protecting the guilty I have a glossary of terms. Day 2: Totally disastrous attempt. Lack of sleep and poison I drank combined to make me concerned about my mental and physical health. I feel like death is nearby. Lack of sleep always induces suicidal thoughts. Just seven days in Paradise. I can easily go back to Hell. The Shame Train is just $4. Travelling back to hell will allow me to get my bicycle perhaps and window washing equipment maybe. Also, there is a looming ticket/citation that needs to be paid by the first of the month. My punishment for running a red light on a motorcycle. Before I left Paradise I spent a couple of days studying Chinese folktales. FAILURE IS A TEACHER STERN, TELLING YOU THERE'S MUCH TO LEARN. Once upon a time there were three fishes who shared a pond: Plan Ahead, Wait and See and Think Fast. One morning they hear the owner of the property making plans to drain the pond. Immediately Plan Ahead swam to the other side, found an inlet and went to another lake. Early the next morning a big machine came to drain the swamp. Think Fast quickly swam away to the other lake. Wait and See was not so fortunate. Whether I am Think Fast or Wait and See remains to be seen.

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