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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          • September 28, 2012 1:50 am
            I’m writing a new Rig Veda. The idea is that God is but a juvenile and he likes to masturbate as juveniles often do. Please note that here is where I would speak of God’s orgasm but my lawyers tell me it would be blasphemous and I could be sued for libel by the Pope or Jesus, if he ever comes back. So I won’t speak of God’s orgasm at this time, but I will speak to the fact that God likes to ejaculate in his socks. Kinda weird right? I guess he figures this way he doesn’t create a big mess. I dunno,  I’ll have to ask him when I die and go to heaven.So God jizzes in his socks and throws em in the laundry hamper. Well the maid is on vacation, you just know God has a maid, so she’s gone and God’s wash doesn’t get done for two weeks.  When it finally does get washed all of Gods dried jism starts slushing around with that hot soapy water like a kind of cosmic stew. And the washing machine is one of them new fangled computerized models, so its half robot and now full of cosmic jizz soup. On the spin cycle the washer gets out of balance and lurches and staggers about the room. God runs in and slips in the spilled soup and the robot washing machine falls on him and the whole big mess gets electrocuted - and thus a universe is born.

            I’m writing a new Rig Veda.

            The idea is that God is but a juvenile and he likes to masturbate as juveniles often do. Please note that here is where I would speak of God’s orgasm but my lawyers tell me it would be blasphemous and I could be sued for libel by the Pope or Jesus, if he ever comes back. So I won’t speak of God’s orgasm at this time, but I will speak to the fact that God likes to ejaculate in his socks. Kinda weird right? I guess he figures this way he doesn’t create a big mess. I dunno,  I’ll have to ask him when I die and go to heaven.
            So God jizzes in his socks and throws em in the laundry hamper. Well the maid is on vacation, you just know God has a maid, so she’s gone and God’s wash doesn’t get done for two weeks.  When it finally does get washed all of Gods dried jism starts slushing around with that hot soapy water like a kind of cosmic stew. And the washing machine is one of them new fangled computerized models, so its half robot and now full of cosmic jizz soup. On the spin cycle the washer gets out of balance and lurches and staggers about the room. God runs in and slips in the spilled soup and the robot washing machine falls on him and the whole big mess gets electrocuted - and thus a universe is born.