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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          • May 30, 2010 10:46 am
            Ft. Lauderdale, Florida - There are women here, who’ve had so much plastic surgery they look like aliens… its kinda hot.  I realize this while I’m looking around, waiting in line for a full body scan x-ray at the airport. For those that don’t know, the full body scanner gives a very accurate portrait of a person sans clothes, especially of a mans privates. So I, along with every other man in line was trying to “chub” up a bit. Some are opening leering at a scantily dressed Puerto Rican girl, but most just have their eyes closed fantasizing about God knows what. I joke with the guy next to me that they should have a fluffer. I didn’t realize until I saw his collar that he was a priest. Maybe I took the joke a little far when I started pointing out little kids for him. - Friday, May 28th

            Ft. Lauderdale, Florida - There are women here, who’ve had so much plastic surgery they look like aliens… its kinda hot.

             I realize this while I’m looking around, waiting in line for a full body scan x-ray at the airport. For those that don’t know, the full body scanner gives a very accurate portrait of a person sans clothes, especially of a mans privates. So I, along with every other man in line was trying to “chub” up a bit. Some are opening leering at a scantily dressed Puerto Rican girl, but most just have their eyes closed fantasizing about God knows what. I joke with the guy next to me that they should have a fluffer. I didn’t realize until I saw his collar that he was a priest. Maybe I took the joke a little far when I started pointing out little kids for him. - Friday, May 28th

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