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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          • November 23, 2009 9:15 am
            back to the cat weighing… Happy Monday! you bored savage bitches I hope you fall asleep on the bathroom floor at the office and fourteen hundred clowns march outta yer mouth for an afternoon coup perhaps we’re all trojan horses full of some half assed occupying force an occupying force that likes boobies and donuts a force, that has nothing to do with Star Wars, other than buying its memorabilia a force that poops regret and mutters algebraic equations a force that longs for a little action, but not too much. a force-less force mom & dad got divorced and all yer heroes all left for Vegas so good luck and relax Jesus promises that the grass will always be 15% greener

            back to the cat weighing…

            Happy Monday! you bored savage bitches

            I hope you fall asleep on the bathroom floor at the office

            and fourteen hundred clowns march outta yer mouth for an afternoon coup

            perhaps we’re all trojan horses

            full of some half assed occupying force

            an occupying force that likes boobies and donuts

            a force, that has nothing to do with Star Wars, other than buying its memorabilia

            a force that poops regret and mutters algebraic equations

            a force that longs for a little action, but not too much.

            a force-less force

            mom & dad got divorced and all yer heroes all left for Vegas

            so good luck and relax

            Jesus promises that the grass will always be 15% greener

            1. hookersorcake posted this