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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          • April 21, 2011 10:39 pm
            The Boston Market next door to my motel has an apocalyptic theme. All the windows are smashed out and its on fire. I have to admit its a stroke of genius. Often at strip mall fires I find myself with a hankering for rotisserie style chicken and or meatloaf. I’m put off though when I see theres a bit of a line. I almost decide to ditch everything and become a wandering mountain hermit, luckily I notice a sign for “Free Live Entertainment; while you wait” so I decide to stay. The entertainment is quite good… for the suburbs. An old man doing soft-shoe while simultaneously fending off a wild pack of daschunds. Its all done in the round and backed by a Greek Chorus. In the first act the old man handles himself with ease but in the 2cnd act the chorus’s absurd chants of home improvement loan jargon whip the comically elongated pups into a new frenzy. Then just when you think “Thats too many wiener dogs,” the old man goes into a big flourish and sends them all flying again. He does tire in the third and final act though as the pups learn to control their rage at home finance and wisely begin flank him. His pitiful cries and subsequent death almost put me off my mood again but I’m immediately refreshed as I find its my turn to order. I order the 1/4 white meat chicken with green beans and mashed potato’s. Its good and surprisingly fresh and if it weren’t for the smoky, acrid aftertaste of burnt plastic, I’d probably recommend it.

            The Boston Market next door to my motel has an apocalyptic theme. All the windows are smashed out and its on fire. I have to admit its a stroke of genius. Often at strip mall fires I find myself with a hankering for rotisserie style chicken and or meatloaf. I’m put off though when I see theres a bit of a line. I almost decide to ditch everything and become a wandering mountain hermit, luckily I notice a sign for “Free Live Entertainment; while you wait” so I decide to stay.

            The entertainment is quite good… for the suburbs. An old man doing soft-shoe while simultaneously fending off a wild pack of daschunds. Its all done in the round and backed by a Greek Chorus. In the first act the old man handles himself with ease but in the 2cnd act the chorus’s absurd chants of home improvement loan jargon whip the comically elongated pups into a new frenzy. Then just when you think “Thats too many wiener dogs,” the old man goes into a big flourish and sends them all flying again. He does tire in the third and final act though as the pups learn to control their rage at home finance and wisely begin flank him. His pitiful cries and subsequent death almost put me off my mood again but I’m immediately refreshed as I find its my turn to order.

            I order the 1/4 white meat chicken with green beans and mashed potato’s. Its good and surprisingly fresh and if it weren’t for the smoky, acrid aftertaste of burnt plastic, I’d probably recommend it.

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