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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          • December 10, 2012 1:27 am
            White Christmas Christmas as we know it, Santa, twinkling lights, and presents was actually all the result of toxic chemicals. Back in the late 1920’s American Christians celebrated the birth of Christ and because they didn’t have to work they got smashed at parties and ate a traditional winter fruit cake. Turns out the fruitcakes where full of toxic chemicals and everyone collectively tripped balls - to use the parlance of our times. President Herbert Hoover himself remarked on one such incidence in his personal journal. Everything turned bright electric and began to shimmy and sparkle. We all laughed and laughed “ho-ho-ho!” and fell into a singular vortex, experiencing the entire world as one large present for our consciousness. A playground of being. It was as if our natural divinity merged with the present moment until every moment was a present unto itself. It was totally sweet. For three years in a row the masses got drunk and did partake in the chemical cake, becoming one with the singular immortal eye of God until someone in the state department finally figured out what was going one. Come to find out the masses becoming one giant laughing sweetness was bad for business. The cakes where thusly confiscated and Coca Cola was hired to create and market the shared vision and most important, change the sacrament into something a little more American.

            White Christmas

            Christmas as we know it, Santa, twinkling lights, and presents was actually all the result of toxic chemicals. Back in the late 1920’s American Christians celebrated the birth of Christ and because they didn’t have to work they got smashed at parties and ate a traditional winter fruit cake. Turns out the fruitcakes where full of toxic chemicals and everyone collectively tripped balls - to use the parlance of our times. President Herbert Hoover himself remarked on one such incidence in his personal journal.

            Everything turned bright electric and began to shimmy and sparkle. We all laughed and laughed “ho-ho-ho!” and fell into a singular vortex, experiencing the entire world as one large present for our consciousness. A playground of being. It was as if our natural divinity merged with the present moment until every moment was a present unto itself. It was totally sweet.

            For three years in a row the masses got drunk and did partake in the chemical cake, becoming one with the singular immortal eye of God until someone in the state department finally figured out what was going one. Come to find out the masses becoming one giant laughing sweetness was bad for business. The cakes where thusly confiscated and Coca Cola was hired to create and market the shared vision and most important, change the sacrament into something a little more American.

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