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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          • October 25, 2009 11:36 am

            “The house is haunted!”
            yelled some old drunk, pointing at his head, pointing at the sky.

            We all just kept scurrying on by, off to work.
            “He’s right ya know.” I half whisper to a little girl, whose riding a pony on the elavator.
            She just kept smiling, humming her song and offered me a swig of root beer. “Well this is my floor!” she announced and handed me the bottle. The doors opened and she and the pony galloped out into a roaring hail of gunfire.

            I turned away and the doors closed behind her. Quiet except for the sound of Kenny G sucking for eternity
            “I wonder if I should buy a new pair of shoes…” I thought aloud, sipping the warm sweet sassparilla.

            On the next floor a kitten got on and sat opposite of me and stared directly a foot or 2 above my head. “Well hello little kitten!” I chuckled - her gaze was unbroken.
            We reached the next floor and she padded out into a smartly furnished reception area.
            The doors closed as I muttered to Kenny G, “I wonder how she pushes the buttons?”
            “Maybe she doesn’t.” said Kenny G.


            1. hookersorcake posted this