Hookers or Cake

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

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    • ------------------------------------- How this blog got its name

      ------------------------------------ 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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          • May 1, 2012 12:04 am
            Sometimes I don’t understand America. Things were so much simpler in Poland. For instance when one would go to the zoo, you’d give the man at the gate 10 Zloty and he’d take you back into a darkened room and ask you what kind of animal you wanted to see. You’d say, “A wolf?” and an attractive woman would come in and slap you. “You dumb mother fucker,” she’d say, “there are no wolves in a zoo!” and then she’d spit on you and leave.

            Sometimes I don’t understand America. Things were so much simpler in Poland. For instance when one would go to the zoo, you’d give the man at the gate 10 Zloty and he’d take you back into a darkened room and ask you what kind of animal you wanted to see. You’d say, “A wolf?” and an attractive woman would come in and slap you. “You dumb mother fucker,” she’d say, “there are no wolves in a zoo!” and then she’d spit on you and leave.

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