Hookers or Cake

Where the self obsessed get serious about silly

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Mahalo! Jade Bos here.

I'm a writer/illustrator/appliance repairman for hire.

Email: bosjade @ gmail dot com --------------------------------

  • Short Stories
  • Shitty Poetry
  • Illustration
  • The best of Hookers or Cake
  • ------------------------------------- How this blog got its name

    ------------------------------------ There was an old picture of Evel Knievel shaking hands with Richard Nixon. 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’.

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

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  • Inspiration
  • TGIF
  • drugs
  • NSFW
  • religion
  • music
  • vids
  • art
  • ----------------------------------------- some fun tumblr's

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

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  • Josh Luft
  • I'm a Veronica
  • Fireland
  • Early Onset of Night
  • ----------------------------------------

    pictures

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  • Mr. King was here
  • Aloha Friday
  • ---------------------------------------- Follow HookersOrCake on Twitter
    • February 5, 2012 12:26 am
      Giant Iron Bird Turds
As the boy robot sat on the back porch next to his new friend, he saw strange giant iron birds flying in the distance. The birds seemed to be pooping on the city below and their poop turned into giant explosions of fire on all the buildings and cars. This made the robot boy anxious because he could see people screaming and dying. Perhaps a giant iron toad would come along and catch all of the bird shit and belch out nothing but smoke and the people would be ok. The boy watched, but the toad never came.
Maybe if everyone had left the hippies alone they would’ve grown into giant furry fringed beasts who ate fire and explosions. Ahh, but the hippies never grew up or truly understood love. They all seemed to think love was just some wonderfully squeezable, diggable, all time groovy thing. They didn’t know love was also a giant, devouring bitch. Of course any flower could have told them that, but they never stuck around long enough for the rotting part. So, the city burned and the boy robot helplessly watched. View high resolution

      Giant Iron Bird Turds

      As the boy robot sat on the back porch next to his new friend, he saw strange giant iron birds flying in the distance. The birds seemed to be pooping on the city below and their poop turned into giant explosions of fire on all the buildings and cars. This made the robot boy anxious because he could see people screaming and dying. Perhaps a giant iron toad would come along and catch all of the bird shit and belch out nothing but smoke and the people would be ok. The boy watched, but the toad never came.

      Maybe if everyone had left the hippies alone they would’ve grown into giant furry fringed beasts who ate fire and explosions. Ahh, but the hippies never grew up or truly understood love. They all seemed to think love was just some wonderfully squeezable, diggable, all time groovy thing. They didn’t know love was also a giant, devouring bitch. Of course any flower could have told them that, but they never stuck around long enough for the rotting part. So, the city burned and the boy robot helplessly watched.

    • February 4, 2012 10:21 pm
       I’ve figured out the novel or graphic novel that I want to pursue. Its exciting. I can see the overall intertwining stories but so much will turn up in the actual creating of it. Its like a wonderful surprise, a infinite mystery revealing itself in the most intimate of ways. A cosmic striptease, if you will.
Of course it may also frustrate me and beat the hell out of me, but whattya gonna do. Thats life. but, just like the big reveal in a strip tease there is so much more to it than meets the eye. Sure the dicks in the seats and maybe even the dancers think its all just some sort of fucking transaction, but truly, the splendid vagina in not only fabulous for fucking… it also signifies birth and death in its totality. We all emerge from one and in the end when we die, they tear a gash in the ground and throw you back into the mother earth and cover ya up so she can suck whatever little bit of energy is left in you. The womb is a tomb is a womb and quite fabulous for fucking.
The whole terrible wonderful enchilada is served up with a side of boredom sprinkled with delight and thankfully the margaritas are still two for one.
So begins the fun. View high resolution

       I’ve figured out the novel or graphic novel that I want to pursue. Its exciting. I can see the overall intertwining stories but so much will turn up in the actual creating of it. Its like a wonderful surprise, a infinite mystery revealing itself in the most intimate of ways. A cosmic striptease, if you will.

      Of course it may also frustrate me and beat the hell out of me, but whattya gonna do. Thats life. but, just like the big reveal in a strip tease there is so much more to it than meets the eye. Sure the dicks in the seats and maybe even the dancers think its all just some sort of fucking transaction, but truly, the splendid vagina in not only fabulous for fucking… it also signifies birth and death in its totality. We all emerge from one and in the end when we die, they tear a gash in the ground and throw you back into the mother earth and cover ya up so she can suck whatever little bit of energy is left in you. The womb is a tomb is a womb and quite fabulous for fucking.

      The whole terrible wonderful enchilada is served up with a side of boredom sprinkled with delight and thankfully the margaritas are still two for one.

      So begins the fun.

    • February 4, 2012 10:54 am
      Goodnight sweet prince.

      Goodnight sweet prince.

    • February 4, 2012 12:33 am
      
I was drunk because I’d broken a tooth and didn’t go to the dentist.

Its a crippling pain that shoots from my ringing ears, through my face, and throbs into the base of my neck. I finally broke down and had a pain killer. That didn’t do much so I poured a couple of whiskeys on top. Ahhhh, the warm relief of a manageable dull pain.
 I was listening to an old CD of The Frogs that Jesse had given me. How can I explain The Frogs if you haven’t heard em? Well, imagine some of your weirder, drunken friends got especially high and recorded a made up album from the point of view of a drunk old pedophile serial killer. Its horribly offensive, absurd, and pretty funny.
So I was loaded, listening to The Frogs, and laughing. But then I would see and hear my best friend Jesse, who died last year, laughing and then I would start crying. Of course The Frogs were still playing and I’d realize that I was sobbing while some song about goat fucking was playing. Then I’d laugh even harder about the absurdity of it all; the laughing and crying, the mysterious beauty of everything. Death and humor all mixed up with the people that you love. The people that you love, disappearing forever.
  My wife walked in on me and I laughed and cried a bit more in my explanation. I told her how all my thoughts and emotions were colliding…  the entire spectrum of emotion happening all at once. She smiled knowingly.
 “Thats exactly what its like being a women,” she said. And I laughed…
“24 hours a day,” she cried. View high resolution

      I was drunk because I’d broken a tooth and didn’t go to the dentist.

      Its a crippling pain that shoots from my ringing ears, through my face, and throbs into the base of my neck. I finally broke down and had a pain killer. That didn’t do much so I poured a couple of whiskeys on top. Ahhhh, the warm relief of a manageable dull pain.

       I was listening to an old CD of The Frogs that Jesse had given me. How can I explain The Frogs if you haven’t heard em? Well, imagine some of your weirder, drunken friends got especially high and recorded a made up album from the point of view of a drunk old pedophile serial killer. Its horribly offensive, absurd, and pretty funny.

      So I was loaded, listening to The Frogs, and laughing. But then I would see and hear my best friend Jesse, who died last year, laughing and then I would start crying. Of course The Frogs were still playing and I’d realize that I was sobbing while some song about goat fucking was playing. Then I’d laugh even harder about the absurdity of it all; the laughing and crying, the mysterious beauty of everything. Death and humor all mixed up with the people that you love. The people that you love, disappearing forever.

        My wife walked in on me and I laughed and cried a bit more in my explanation. I told her how all my thoughts and emotions were colliding…  the entire spectrum of emotion happening all at once. She smiled knowingly.

       “Thats exactly what its like being a women,” she said. And I laughed…

      “24 hours a day,” she cried.

    • February 3, 2012 1:28 am
      The Trouble With Chester
I’m working on a spec script for a cartoon show about a dead raccoon named Chester. Chester lies dead on the back porch of a model home in an abandoned gated community. The model home is fully furnished with a thoroughly modern kitchen. There is a small child robot floor sweeper that befriends Chester and together the learn all sorts of life lessons. Most of the lessons center around the finality of death and the roaring void because Chester doesn’t say or do anything, as he is dead and rotting.
Though there will be some fun song and dance numbers done by the maggots living in Chester’s body. And heart touching songs that the robot child sings into the void. View high resolution

      The Trouble With Chester

      I’m working on a spec script for a cartoon show about a dead raccoon named Chester. Chester lies dead on the back porch of a model home in an abandoned gated community. The model home is fully furnished with a thoroughly modern kitchen. There is a small child robot floor sweeper that befriends Chester and together the learn all sorts of life lessons. Most of the lessons center around the finality of death and the roaring void because Chester doesn’t say or do anything, as he is dead and rotting.

      Though there will be some fun song and dance numbers done by the maggots living in Chester’s body. And heart touching songs that the robot child sings into the void.

    • February 2, 2012 10:47 pm
    • February 1, 2012 10:17 pm
      St. Meat - The ghost of the dead horse that haunts me. View high resolution

      St. Meat - The ghost of the dead horse that haunts me.

    • February 1, 2012 12:58 pm
      The #2 Nominate Awards! Celebrating the people who nominate the people.
Darcy! - This tenacious young lady got her friend Adams blog nominated for an award even though Adam only occasionally posts cryptic notes about his roommate and cat pictures. Darcy thought Adam was a little down after his latest break up and that being nominated could totally turn things around for her BFF.
Frank - got Sloan’s blog nominated for a prestigious award even though her blog is exactly the same as 3.2 million other 20 yr old girls. The occasional racy GPOY, fashion posts, and sometimes a late nite bitch session about her bf Tyler (who Frank hates) Even though Sloan has blocked Frank, age 38, Frank will make her famous and win her affection and no longer be relegated to creepy anonymous asks.
Joseph - Joseph isn’t a real person but an alias for Mike, an aspiring writer. Joseph was able to nominate Mike, IE. himself, without seeming like a total crazed needy narcissist. Luckily for Mike/Joesph is that he’s young, sorta good looking, and all the young girls love his smoldering over-serious writer persona. He can’t write for shit, but luckily no one reads writing on the internet.
Sloan - She used to sell her boyfriends demo tapes in front of the VFW at all age shows. (and everywhere else) She is now on the internet and sells crafts on Etsy. She helped her latest boyfriend, Tyler, get into an internet indie film festival and nominated for best foreign whispercore vignette.
Any other nominations? View high resolution

      The #2 Nominate Awards! Celebrating the people who nominate the people.

      Darcy! - This tenacious young lady got her friend Adams blog nominated for an award even though Adam only occasionally posts cryptic notes about his roommate and cat pictures. Darcy thought Adam was a little down after his latest break up and that being nominated could totally turn things around for her BFF.

      Frank - got Sloan’s blog nominated for a prestigious award even though her blog is exactly the same as 3.2 million other 20 yr old girls. The occasional racy GPOY, fashion posts, and sometimes a late nite bitch session about her bf Tyler (who Frank hates) Even though Sloan has blocked Frank, age 38, Frank will make her famous and win her affection and no longer be relegated to creepy anonymous asks.

      Joseph - Joseph isn’t a real person but an alias for Mike, an aspiring writer. Joseph was able to nominate Mike, IE. himself, without seeming like a total crazed needy narcissist. Luckily for Mike/Joesph is that he’s young, sorta good looking, and all the young girls love his smoldering over-serious writer persona. He can’t write for shit, but luckily no one reads writing on the internet.

      Sloan - She used to sell her boyfriends demo tapes in front of the VFW at all age shows. (and everywhere else) She is now on the internet and sells crafts on Etsy. She helped her latest boyfriend, Tyler, get into an internet indie film festival and nominated for best foreign whispercore vignette.

      Any other nominations?

    • February 1, 2012 9:54 am
    • February 1, 2012 2:19 am
      maybe I’ll do some daily doodles View high resolution

      maybe I’ll do some daily doodles