A discourse on vagabond-ry for your reading pleasure:

Friend: seriously this desk job is just getting in the way

Me: stupid work.
Friend: I know!
Me: let's quit our jobs and become vagabonds.  You can sing and tell tales while I pickpocket
Friend: haha!
Friend: pickpocket eh?
Me: yeah, sure.  I've never done it before, but I've seen the gypsy children do it.  Shouldn't be too hard.
Friend: if you get arrested should I try to bust you out of the slammer or just write a song about it?
Me: Ooh, that's a tough one. Write a song about it, then bust me out.
Me: Then write another song about busting me out of jail.
Friend: then I'll write a song while I'm in jail for busting you out of jail
Me: You'll have to write it on the toilet paper.
Friend: hm
Friend: could be messy
Me: in pencil.  I don't think they let you have pens, too shiv-like
Friend: I assume this will all take place in Europe somewhere
Me: certainly. But we'll have to pick a place where there aren't as many gypsies, to cut down on the competition.
Friend: right, makes sense.