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 17, 2012 1:36 am
            Somehow I ended up going out on a date with someone I met on a suicide hotline. We had a fabulous time, dinner at this wonderfully strange Vietnamese restaurant next to a laundromat, then a couple of drinks at some wine bar/bookstore/arcade where we laughed and laughed. Afterwards we stopped at some odd bakery where no one spoke English, ate some chocolate thingy with our hands and drank really good coffee out of shitty styrofoam cups. We then went back to my place and had surprising wonderful sex in my kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom. They killed themselves the next day. Still not sure how I feel about it. Goddammit I wish I knew how to feel about it.


            Somehow I ended up going out on a date with someone I met on a suicide hotline. We had a fabulous time, dinner at this wonderfully strange Vietnamese restaurant next to a laundromat, then a couple of drinks at some wine bar/bookstore/arcade where we laughed and laughed. Afterwards we stopped at some odd bakery where no one spoke English, ate some chocolate thingy with our hands and drank really good coffee out of shitty styrofoam cups. We then went back to my place and had surprising wonderful sex in my kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom.

            They killed themselves the next day. Still not sure how I feel about it. Goddammit I wish I knew how to feel about it.

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            4. said: To the hotline guy: I just wanted to get laid one more time before I did myself in. My mind was made up long before I called. It’s not you it’s me. Sorry to have given you false hope. But please don’t let this keep you from answering that phone.
            5. hughman said: he drinks from styrofoam?? good riddance.
            6. said: did that really happen?
            7. hookersorcake posted this