Hookers or Cake

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

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      ------------------------------------ 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 26, 2012 2:16 am
             Sorry I didn’t write anything yesterday. I’ve had a strange 24 hours. I guess it started last night when my dog was rooting around out back in a mud puddle and I yelled at her. She slunk over and I cleaned her feet and dried her. She then dutifully went inside and threw up on the white shag carpet in the living room.  Now I’ve found from experience that the easiest thing to do when a dog throws up on a rug is just to give it a minute or two and the dog will eat the vomit right back up. “A warm meal,” as my older brother used to say. Disgusting I know, but not nearly as disgusting as trying to clean up dog vomit out of shag carpeting. In this case though the vomit was black. My dog must have eaten mud or something, so not wanting the dog to re-eat whatever it was I threw a paper towel over it and put her in the bathroom. When I came back out to clean up the vomit there was nothing under the paper towel. I looked all over. Was I hallucinating? I even smelled the floor but oddly the carpet only smelled like roses. There was a knock on the front door. It was a younger Latino couple with a small child maybe about 3 years old. The child seemed to be disabled and kinda of sickly. The man took off his cowboy hat and placed it over his heart and looked me in the eyes. He looked as if he was about to cry. He swallowed hard and asked if they could come in. I just kinda nodded yes, unsure what to do and they walked right over to where the dog had thrown up and knelt, weeping and speaking loudly in Spanish, raising their hands to heaven. I didn’t know what they said but it sounded like they were praying to a Saint Bernadette. There was another knock on the door and it was an old man with a beard, he too looked at me with bright hopeful eyes. So I again stepped aside and in he threw himself fully prostrate in front of where I imagined the dog vomit to be. I lost count after ten people. There are probably now about fifty to sixty people here as I type this.  A few dozen more holding candlelight vigil in my vegetable garden. Someone brought over roasted pork, rice, and beans, some bread and cheese, even a case of wine. Its turning into a pretty great party.

            Sorry I didn’t write anything yesterday. I’ve had a strange 24 hours. I guess it started last night when my dog was rooting around out back in a mud puddle and I yelled at her. She slunk over and I cleaned her feet and dried her. She then dutifully went inside and threw up on the white shag carpet in the living room. 

            Now I’ve found from experience that the easiest thing to do when a dog throws up on a rug is just to give it a minute or two and the dog will eat the vomit right back up. “A warm meal,” as my older brother used to say. Disgusting I know, but not nearly as disgusting as trying to clean up dog vomit out of shag carpeting.

            In this case though the vomit was black. My dog must have eaten mud or something, so not wanting the dog to re-eat whatever it was I threw a paper towel over it and put her in the bathroom. When I came back out to clean up the vomit there was nothing under the paper towel. I looked all over. Was I hallucinating? I even smelled the floor but oddly the carpet only smelled like roses.

            There was a knock on the front door. It was a younger Latino couple with a small child maybe about 3 years old. The child seemed to be disabled and kinda of sickly. The man took off his cowboy hat and placed it over his heart and looked me in the eyes. He looked as if he was about to cry. He swallowed hard and asked if they could come in. I just kinda nodded yes, unsure what to do and they walked right over to where the dog had thrown up and knelt, weeping and speaking loudly in Spanish, raising their hands to heaven. I didn’t know what they said but it sounded like they were praying to a Saint Bernadette. There was another knock on the door and it was an old man with a beard, he too looked at me with bright hopeful eyes. So I again stepped aside and in he threw himself fully prostrate in front of where I imagined the dog vomit to be. I lost count after ten people. There are probably now about fifty to sixty people here as I type this.  A few dozen more holding candlelight vigil in my vegetable garden.

            Someone brought over roasted pork, rice, and beans, some bread and cheese, even a case of wine. Its turning into a pretty great party.

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