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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          • April 28, 2012 12:34 am
            I always liked this old Breton painting and I’m surprised Nick Cave never used it for an album cover. I actually used to own a print of it only I lost it to some dude (seriously the guy was a total bro) in a card game. I dunno why he wanted it. I think his girlfriend liked it or something. Whatever the case, she sure liked me. I was pretty drunk. I think that was the same summer I lost my grandfather’s knife in the river. I never met my grandfather, my parents never had anything to do with him after he lost the farm. We’d drive by him from time to time when I was little. He’d just be standing on the corner in town with his two foot beard and his old wool coat wrapped in barbwire, muttering to himself. They said he carried an old seed bag on his side. It was full of beer caps and teeth. He salted the earth liberally with the mixture wherever he went. He was the sower and wherever he went he sowed. After he died my father inherited all his old tools. His knife was mixed in with them, almost a foot long and made of steel. I stole it from my Dad and gave it to the river the summer after I got out of the Army.

            I always liked this old Breton painting and I’m surprised Nick Cave never used it for an album cover. I actually used to own a print of it only I lost it to some dude (seriously the guy was a total bro) in a card game. I dunno why he wanted it. I think his girlfriend liked it or something. Whatever the case, she sure liked me. I was pretty drunk. I think that was the same summer I lost my grandfather’s knife in the river.

            I never met my grandfather, my parents never had anything to do with him after he lost the farm. We’d drive by him from time to time when I was little. He’d just be standing on the corner in town with his two foot beard and his old wool coat wrapped in barbwire, muttering to himself. They said he carried an old seed bag on his side. It was full of beer caps and teeth. He salted the earth liberally with the mixture wherever he went. He was the sower and wherever he went he sowed.

            After he died my father inherited all his old tools. His knife was mixed in with them, almost a foot long and made of steel. I stole it from my Dad and gave it to the river the summer after I got out of the Army.