Hookers or Cake

Where the self-obsessed get serious about silly
I'm too wacky to be hip.


    • Illustration
    • My Video's
    • The best of Hookers or Cake
    • ------------------------------------- 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’.


      Amazon.com Widgets

      -------------------------------------- more fun categories


      • Inspiration
      • art
      • ----------------------------------------- some tumblr friends


        • Rrrick
        • Fuzzy Dave
        • Wonder Tonic
        • ----------------------------------------- some writing


          • Josh Luft
          • I'm a Veronica
        • Mr. King was here
          • Aloha Friday
          tell me lies! Submit stuff
          • September 21, 2011 9:00 pm
            [Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.] 111 plays

            Really asshole?! Another fucking R.E.M. memorial?

            Yeah but this song…

            Its got that intoxicating beauty of autumn. Ragged stream of consciousness dirge. Fuck! Its got Patti Smith!! Its got the feeling of nature, that all good REM songs had.

            Country roads - ancient houses - dead colorful leaves. 

            The beautiful sad poet, scrawling shitty poetry in some old cafe. Turning pain into something seductive. Dark and glittering glimpses of what could be, but an almost joyous” fuck yeah” in knowing that the end will be bitter and thankfully alone.