A half-hour ago: This very disheveled woman, looking seventy, probably 25-30, knocked at my door. She babbled, only semi-coherently, about needing directions. I asked her where she needed to go. She said she needed to get on a computer to find the place. I told her she needed help, but I couldn't offer it. There was a snowball's chance in Hell that I was letting her into my house! I closed the door on her, and she proceeded to trash my flowers and flower pots. I opened the door, and told her that I was calling the cops, which I did. Nothing will come out of this, since I'm in Austin, a city that cares more about coddling its growing homeless population than caring about it's law abiding, tax paying citizens. I disagree that these people just need someone to care about them. In some cases, maybe, but in most that I've seen, they are the insane, the incorrigibly alcoholic/drug abusing, filthy people with no redeeming qualities that I can ever discern. Yeah, we all could be in their shoes, tomorrow, OK. Thing is, I'd get a job, save, get an apartment, and work towards getting stability back into my life. I have experienced trying to help these folks, only to see my efforts go totally unappreciated, and in vain. In fact, many of these folks will, when asked, tell you that they prefer living on the streets to being in housing. Great, just great. Let's just keep throwing money and other benefits at them, right?