Hookers or Cake

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

--------------------------------

    • Illustration
    • My Videos
    • The best of Hookers or Cake
    • ------------------------------------- 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’.

      -----------------------------------

      Amazon.com Widgets

      -------------------------------------- more fun categories

      --------------------------------------

      • Inspiration
      • art
      • ----------------------------------------- some tumblr friends

        -----------------------------------------

        • Rrrick
        • Fuzzy Dave
        • Wonder Tonic
        • ----------------------------------------- some writing

          -----------------------------------------

          • Josh Luft
          • I'm a Veronica
        • Mr. King was here
          • Aloha Friday
          ----------------------------------------
          tell me lies! Submit stuff
          • June 20, 2012 1:34 am
            The next morning I saw the sailboat in a tree, about fifteen feet in the air. How it sailed there I couldn’t begin to imagine.  “Must be a new form of energy,” muttered my mailman, Pete. “Whuu?” I said, drool falling out of my mouth. “Oh, every few thousand years god invents a new form of energy,” he replied. “You mean like electricity, nuclear fission and shit?” I asked. “No, I mean like fucking,” he said. “About three thousand years ago he created fucking. Shit got pretty crazy after that. We had to create killing just make ends meet.”

            The next morning I saw the sailboat in a tree, about fifteen feet in the air. How it sailed there I couldn’t begin to imagine.  “Must be a new form of energy,” muttered my mailman, Pete. “Whuu?” I said, drool falling out of my mouth. “Oh, every few thousand years god invents a new form of energy,” he replied.

            “You mean like electricity, nuclear fission and shit?” I asked.

            “No, I mean like fucking,” he said. “About three thousand years ago he created fucking. Shit got pretty crazy after that. We had to create killing just make ends meet.”

            1. reblogged this from hookersorcake
            2. reblogged this from hookersorcake
            3. reblogged this from hookersorcake and added:
            4. reblogged this from hookersorcake
            5. reblogged this from hookersorcake
            6. reblogged this from hookersorcake
            7. reblogged this from hookersorcake
            8. reblogged this from hookersorcake
            9. said: Brilliant
            10. hookersorcake posted this