Everyone said I was a barbeque addict. Now, all thoughts of turning around were out the window, I just follow my nose.About a mile down the street I c...me to an old faded hand painted sign that said, 'Papa Doc's home done BBQ'Well, if you smelled the smoke you wouldn't care how it was said. It smelled that good. I aimed my car toward the smoke and kept going.It wasn't long before I got to Johnsonville. I wouldn't call it a town. Only five building and every one of them looked at least a hundred. I don't steal, or push. I don't squeal, or scam. I got friends. I get by. I still stop by and talk with him sometimes, and he feeds me, gives me some clothes or a little money. It makes him feel good to help me. I know, because he told me that it did. I feel good when I help other people too.How do I get so many friends? It isn't all one way. I help people out, and they remember me, and help me out back. One lady, I tripped the punk who had just snatched her purse, and it went flying. I got to. More

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