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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          • March 25, 2012 12:56 am
            Thats right kids, back in the day we didn’t have no cell phones with all this endless texting. We had to communicate using good old fashioned telepathy. The ancients knew that if you took enough mescaline and formed some sort of orgonic listening device out of wood and yarn it was actually pretty easy. The first time my Uncle Bernie tried it he got psychically cornered by a pack of wolves and they forced him to listen to dirty knock knock jokes for three days… he was never the same, so ya had to careful.

            Thats right kids, back in the day we didn’t have no cell phones with all this endless texting. We had to communicate using good old fashioned telepathy. The ancients knew that if you took enough mescaline and formed some sort of orgonic listening device out of wood and yarn it was actually pretty easy. The first time my Uncle Bernie tried it he got psychically cornered by a pack of wolves and they forced him to listen to dirty knock knock jokes for three days… he was never the same, so ya had to careful.

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