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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          • April 6, 2012 12:18 am
            At night I wonder out into the back yard and hold an impromptu funeral. I dig hundreds of shallow graves and whisper the dreams I’ve seen into the damp earth. In the morning a forest has grown up all around us. I wander out into it and listen until I hear. There is a bird singing somewhere, off in the distance. I follow its song happily, into the dark heart of the leaves. 

            At night I wonder out into the back yard and hold an impromptu funeral. I dig hundreds of shallow graves and whisper the dreams I’ve seen into the damp earth. In the morning a forest has grown up all around us. I wander out into it and listen until I hear. There is a bird singing somewhere, off in the distance. I follow its song happily, into the dark heart of the leaves. 

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            7. said: That’s beautiful!
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