Hookers or Cake

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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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          • August 14, 2010 11:31 am
            God approached the shoe store. A boundless mystery wearing a false mustache. God opened the door and a bell rang. A small, wounded puppet came from the back, smiled shyly, and proceeded to sell God a nice pair of dress shoes. God stepped out onto the street admiring the new shoes. And the puppet closed up shop for lunch. God was later found, lost on a archaic battlefield, wearing the back half of a 2 man pony costume. The puppet meanwhile, fell asleep after lunch, dreaming of a dark and silent forest. A piercing song came from a clearing. A small bird sings in a ancient golden cage.

            God approached the shoe store. A boundless mystery wearing a false mustache. God opened the door and a bell rang. A small, wounded puppet came from the back, smiled shyly, and proceeded to sell God a nice pair of dress shoes.

            God stepped out onto the street admiring the new shoes. And the puppet closed up shop for lunch.

            God was later found, lost on a archaic battlefield, wearing the back half of a 2 man pony costume. The puppet meanwhile, fell asleep after lunch, dreaming of a dark and silent forest. A piercing song came from a clearing.

            A small bird sings in a ancient golden cage.

            47 notes Filed under:  bestofhoc, drawing by me, silly stories,.
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            6. said: [snapping my fingers] Wait, do coffeehouse beetniks still do that?
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            8. said: Yeah, I didn’t know that Alf was busted in the end … did you see my blog post about how I was almost trampled by an elephant two weeks ago … what an adrenalin rush … and me and my buddy were stoned at the time …
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