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 5, 2012 12:52 am
            todays notes At least the super computers will understand unequivocally that we are all silly little whores who just like to be punished.  Man beaten to death by a half eaten baloney sandwich. Someone just bought the color ‘red’ for $213 million dollars Her ass sang to me like a tired Mexican boy eating hush-puppies in a Long Johns Silvers. You’re just repeating things you once read in a magazine. Gods a terrible liar, drunk and forgetful, contradicting himself all the time. He cheats on simple board games… but he a make ahh de best sauce! They killed a bear and stuffed it with flowers  ridiculous colors a haughty banjo tune They took me there in dead mans clothes and in my teeth a rose nothing happened, but they say it will soon…

            todays notes

            • At least the super computers will understand unequivocally that we are all silly little whores who just like to be punished. 
            • Man beaten to death by a half eaten baloney sandwich.
            • Someone just bought the color ‘red’ for $213 million dollars
            • Her ass sang to me like a tired Mexican boy eating hush-puppies in a Long Johns Silvers.
            • You’re just repeating things you once read in a magazine.

            Gods a terrible liar, drunk and forgetful, contradicting himself all the time.

            He cheats on simple board games… but he a make ahh de best sauce!

            They killed a bear

            and stuffed it with flowers 

            ridiculous colors

            a haughty banjo tune

            They took me there

            in dead mans clothes

            and in my teeth a rose

            nothing happened, but they say it will soon…

            30 notes Filed under:  notes, prose, poetry, news,.
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