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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          • August 16, 2012 3:30 pm

            I was 5 years old when Elvis died. I didn’t know who he was. They called him THE KING! He looked like some exotic fat sweating Hindu love God to me. Today is the 35th anniversary of his death. May his soul sing for all eternity baby!

            Last night I was visited by 3 Elvis’s

            The young, crazy vibrant Elvis

            The fat, drugged old Elvis

            and the massive dead Elvis

            They told me to change my ways baby

            that I was losing hydrogen and helium at my core

            while expanding in mass.

            Then they asked if I was going to eat that. They were pointing at my kitchen wall. I said no and stepped aside.

            With a high leg kick and pelvic thrust young Elvis tore the wall from its studs, his manhood making love to it in several different ways and yet somehow all at once.

            Fat Elvis snorted up the dust and sang a jaunty ramblin’ tune all while cooking the larger remnants of the wall into a red hot cosmic frittata.

            Dead Elvis held the entire scene in his infinite mouth. His massive mutton chops closing in upon it from time to time, obliterating all light and sound. Then the giant Tibetan horns sounded and the mutton chops lifted and the whole cycle began again.  This repeated itself throughout the commercial break during the age of Kali Yuga and then we went for for some ice cream.

            This story and drawing are from the book only $8.95 on Amazon, baby!

            (Source: hookersorcake)

            1. hookersorcake reblogged this from hookersorcake and added:
              died. I didn’t know who he was....called him THE KING! He looked like some exotic fat...
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            6. said: Mm, now I’m hungry for wallpaper…
            7. hookersorcake posted this