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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          • October 17, 2009 12:23 am

            Your old stage manager, Foster, runs the Liberace museum in Vegas. He says he just got a cheap key of blow, and if you want in, he’ll break you off a few pieces so you can set yourself right. He says he owes ya cuz you helped him out when he was down and out.

            Nothing sounds better right now than free cocaine & Vegas baby! You head straight west and pick up I-15 North.

            About halfway between Victorville and Barstow, you notice a big white car gaining fast on you. Maybe its just some other ne’er-do-well or perhaps someone you owe money has tailed you. No place worse than the middle of the desert to get caught.

            Do you on your 1969 Trans-Am and out run em

            or

            Do you - you can always out run em if you need to once they get  closer

            1. hookersorcake posted this