Hookers or Cake

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

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      ------------------------------------ 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 26, 2011 12:10 am
            The old story spoke of a blood red bird that lived in a dark tangle of wires inside a robots chest. The robot was a medic in the military. It retrieved the bodies from the front line. Once the robot brought back all the wounded and the dead it would be repaired if it’d been shot up or damaged. The bird would also be watered and fed. In the evening the bird would sing the robot to sleep, and sometimes sing to it all night long, however long it took. And when the robot awoke in the morning it would be refreshed.

            The old story spoke of a blood red bird that lived in a dark tangle of wires inside a robots chest. The robot was a medic in the military. It retrieved the bodies from the front line.

            Once the robot brought back all the wounded and the dead it would be repaired if it’d been shot up or damaged. The bird would also be watered and fed.

            In the evening the bird would sing the robot to sleep, and sometimes sing to it all night long, however long it took.

            And when the robot awoke in the morning it would be refreshed.

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