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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          • June 27, 2012 1:19 am

            There is a song my dead father still sings

            Its the sound of an orchestra tuning up while the crickets loose their punk rock minds. It blinks and winks from eye to eye like synaptic kisses and is haunted by elephant dreams. It is the suck of a trillion sentient beings feeding at the teat of our infinite black mother. The black madonna at Chartres. An ancient cathedral built over a succession of burned down altars that were built on top of an ancient cave. If you go down into the crypt you can still hear its tuneless roaring whisper. Its black maw reflecting infinite outer space.

            54 notes Filed under:  Black Madonna, Chartres, Isis, prose, my facebook status,.
          • December 13, 2011 4:27 pm
            Hey the greeter at Wal-Mart just told me the best story! I went to visit my mother every month or so. We’d usually watch a movie or something on TV. She lived in this weird old apartment above a 7-11. I always liked that apartment. Years later they would discover that beneath the 7-11 was an ancient crypt. Actually, it was an ancient Chucky Cheese Pizza place, from the future. It was full of dead alien robots delivering pizza that did not exist yet. Beneath the future Chuckie Cheese was a lost cave where the Druids of Gaul had once worshiped the virgo paritura (the virgin mother of god)  It was in that same cave that God got his first handjob and sprayed painted the words to “My Sharona”

            Hey the greeter at Wal-Mart just told me the best story!

            I went to visit my mother every month or so. We’d usually watch a movie or something on TV. She lived in this weird old apartment above a 7-11. I always liked that apartment. Years later they would discover that beneath the 7-11 was an ancient crypt. Actually, it was an ancient Chucky Cheese Pizza place, from the future. It was full of dead alien robots delivering pizza that did not exist yet.

            Beneath the future Chuckie Cheese was a lost cave where the Druids of Gaul had once worshiped the virgo paritura (the virgin mother of god) 

            It was in that same cave that God got his first handjob and sprayed painted the words to “My Sharona”

            167 notes Filed under:  Bhakti, running down the length of my circular mind Sharona, chant, Chartres, Black madonna, prose, bestofHoC,.
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