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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          • June 4, 2011 3:38 pm
            I’ll write some terrible poetry for this, but its chi is yet too strong. I shall take it into my heart and go down to the ancient waters. I will drown it in the endless blue sea. Perhaps then I can tango with its overpowering spirit. Perhaps then we can sing of this… the sublime riddle of existence.

            I’ll write some terrible poetry for this, but its chi is yet too strong.

            I shall take it into my heart and go down to the ancient waters.

            I will drown it in the endless blue sea.

            Perhaps then I can tango with its overpowering spirit.

            Perhaps then we can sing of this… the sublime riddle of existence.

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