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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          • May 5, 2010 9:00 pm
            dirtygondola I was in the bathroom this morning when I received a text from my toaster oven, Barry. “I’m terribly sorry Stan, but it would appear that I have burned the toast.” I shrugged and continued shaving. A few moments later I received a text from Barry’s manufacturer stating that they were aware of the situation and would be sending a new toaster post haste. I wrinkled my brow. I didn’t want a new toaster as I had become quite close with Barry. He had become one of my closest friends.  I began to formulate a plan to have Barry serviced when Barry texted me again. “I truly apologize for the toast this morning Stan. I realize that I have failed you and that it is best that I dismiss myself from service as I do not want to hurt you like this again. I have enjoyed my time serving you and I wish you all the best in the future. - Barry” I dropped my toothbrush and ran for the kitchen. I couldn’t let Barry self destruct himself, he was too good of a friend. I rounded the corner and saw balloons & the cake. “Happy Birthday,” yelled all of the appliances. “Happy Birthday,” yelled Barry.

            I was in the bathroom this morning when I received a text from my toaster oven, Barry.

            “I’m terribly sorry Stan, but it would appear that I have burned the toast.”

            I shrugged and continued shaving. A few moments later I received a text from Barry’s manufacturer stating that they were aware of the situation and would be sending a new toaster post haste. I wrinkled my brow. I didn’t want a new toaster as I had become quite close with Barry. He had become one of my closest friends.  I began to formulate a plan to have Barry serviced when Barry texted me again.

            “I truly apologize for the toast this morning Stan. I realize that I have failed you and that it is best that I dismiss myself from service as I do not want to hurt you like this again. I have enjoyed my time serving you and I wish you all the best in the future. - Barry”

            I dropped my toothbrush and ran for the kitchen. I couldn’t let Barry self destruct himself, he was too good of a friend. I rounded the corner and saw balloons & the cake.

            “Happy Birthday,” yelled all of the appliances. “Happy Birthday,” yelled Barry.

            Filed under:  bestofHoC, silly stories, prose,.
          by Peter Vidani. For .
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