Hookers or Cake

Where the self-obsessed get serious about silly
I'm too wacky to be hip.

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      • ------------------------------------- How this blog got its name

      ------------------------------------ There was a large painting of Evel Knievel shaking hands with Richard Nixon. It hung in the Mayors office. Late one evening after everyone went home. I took it down to the lab. I zoomed in on Evel’s left eye a 100x and enhanced it. It was an address. I went to the address. It was a modest, 1970’s style, split level ranch home in the suburbs.

      ----------------------------------- Inside I found a dead parrot lying on a waterbed. I revived the parrot with some saltines and adrenaline. We became good friends. The parrots name was Randy. One night a few years later while Randy and me played Gin Rummy, he sang me a song about a fire. The title of this blog was never mentioned but I sensed it, and Randy confirmed it by giving me ‘THE LOOK’.

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          • November 23, 2011 11:58 pm
            Don’t worry! We’ll call that fancy rehab place in the morning and you’ll be back to feeling like your old self in no time. Just be quiet now and rest and let me take care of everything. While you’re getting clean I’ll fix up the old El Camino and we’ll drive on down to Belize when you get out. Then we’ll camp in huts on the beach and take those gel caps I’ve been saving, lay in the sun until our faces melt off, and then merge into the cosmic… no? Of course you’ll still be able to do psychedelics baby, those aren’t drugs. They’re just windows into the roaring heart of reality. I love you too biscuit lips, now don’t worry, we’ll get through this.

            Don’t worry! We’ll call that fancy rehab place in the morning and you’ll be back to feeling like your old self in no time. Just be quiet now and rest and let me take care of everything.

            While you’re getting clean I’ll fix up the old El Camino and we’ll drive on down to Belize when you get out. Then we’ll camp in huts on the beach and take those gel caps I’ve been saving, lay in the sun until our faces melt off, and then merge into the cosmic… no? Of course you’ll still be able to do psychedelics baby, those aren’t drugs. They’re just windows into the roaring heart of reality.

            I love you too biscuit lips, now don’t worry, we’ll get through this.

            39 notes Filed under:  prose, drugs, america,.
            1. reblogged this from hookersorcake
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            3. thedailydoodles said: I wanna do shrooms in Belize again :-/
            4. reblogged this from hookersorcake and added:
            5. hookersorcake posted this
          by Peter Vidani. For .
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