Index of all Pages
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Index of all Pages
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Directory of Categories Page
Go to the Writings and Poems Pages ->
The index of Writings and Poems Pages
Go to The Master teaches Perfection->
A story of pottery making
Go to The Vendors' Christmass poem ->
A poem to the Berkeley Street Vendors
Buck Otis Enterprises
San Francisco Bay Area Artists Website
The background music is "Vivaldi's Spring
If you dont want to hear the music, turn it off here.
The insanity of it all...
Claim Death Award Center
Claim your sentence
by VooDoo Today!
Cxxxxs X. Dxxxxo
P. O. BOX xxxxxx
IXXXXXX California xxxxx-xxxxx
Dear Cxxxxs X. Dxxxxo
It's really true! I1m excited to inform you
that you have just been guaranteed an award
of Death by VooDoo in our nationwide
"National Insanity" Sweepstakes!
Although you are guaranteed
this award! It is already yours! You must claim
your award by the deadline!
To prevent fraudulent or unauthorized award
claims by patients of Dr. Jack Kavorkian,
my office must hold your award pending
receipt of your valid claim to Death by Voodoo.
We have established a security procedure to
make absolutely sure that nobody but you can
claim the award that is rightfully yours. Your
award designation has been computer
selected from the thousands ofassholes who
have been sending me 900 number get rich quick
Yes, Cxxxxx, unless you award me
one million dollars in one of your phony contests,
I will pray to Satan to have you drop dead and
take your immortal soul immediately. I have
already lit a candle and burned a piece
of paper with your signed name on it.
(Hell that was the easy part, you
sent it to me!) Unless you respond within
14 days of recited of this letter,
I am sorry, but you had better make funeral
arrangements and notify your next of kin;
wife, sister, mother and brother are all the
same person, so that1s easy
Just bend over and kiss your ass
good-bye!! Maggots will eat your brains
and come out of every orifice of your
body as you literally disintegrate into dust.
This horrific end is all avoidable if you
award all the people you have sent
900 scams the prizes that you promised
them and stop harassing them with these
phoney get rich quick scams and get a job.
On behalf of the Claim Death Award Center,
all the best to you and your family. Enjoy your
award in good health, because you earned it!
Death by VooDoo.
Grand master of voodoo
Letter to Bureau-o-crates
Four women and two dogs ago, I came
forth upon the streets of Berkeley as to witt
one street artist, dedicated to the proposition,
that it is better for me to create beauty for
myself working 120 hours a week for no
money, then to become a wage slaving
young urban professional. To that basic
premise, I have dedicated my existence
for some 23 years, maintaining a moderate
three figure income. Indeed, some might
even call this poverty and wish to relieve
me of my dedication. During my tenure
as a street artist, I have witnessed many
great changes to the city of Berkeley.
The corner of Durante and Telegraph
has changed unimaginably. There are
now windows in the Bank of America.The
store where little old blue haired ladies
sold dresses evolved to blue haired young
ladies selling weird clothes and evolved
further into a store run by African Americans
selling Bagels and Kosher foods!! This must be
to compete with the Chinese selling Pizza,
the Mexicans selling Chinese food, the
Filipino selling Pretzels and the Italians selling
sushi. A shoe store has become a
vegetarian restaurant and Ken Serican has
built a three story empire from a station
wagon full of records....
Be that as it all may, we artesian
developed a system to fairly and equitably
divide up unimproved space and develop
it for economic opportunities. Berkeley gave
to us artists the greatest grant to the arts
that ever existed: the right to develop
unimproved sidewalk space into an economically
feasible business opportunity. In exchange,
we have provided the area with tourists and
business greater that any where else in the
city. We have created a successful market place.
Now every few years, a group of newly
elected officials, hired petty burocrates, and
civil service employees arrive to "help" us
(I am from the government and I am here to
help you!) organize our business
district/ neighborhood/street vending.
Each time a new group descends upon us,
they have managed to screw up as best
they could, double our license fees and
call upon us to meet with them at their
convenience for hours and hours of our
time. It is not enough that these
blood sucking vermin have no idea what
it is like to sell upon the streets or make
and create something by hand or
operate any kind of business, they must
occupy our time, by telling us how they
are going to improve our business and
want to charge us outrageous sums of
money to do it.
Ladies and Gentleman. Please, Please
leave us alone! Please free us of your presence
and go to work in some meaningful job making
millions of dollars. Invent a new computer operating
system, become a cult guru, defend a famous
guilty football star for murder, but don1t
triple our license fees, or plant gardens in
our vending spaces or bicycle racks, kiosks,
trash cans, Christmas tree lights, Umbrellas,
banners, cherping pedestrian signs, telephones,
newspaper racks, Christians with microphones ,
space alien landing pods, and black ionic holes
in our vending spaces. Please try and understand
that we don1t want to wear no stinking badges,
cause this ain't KMart. We don't want any
more unenforceable regulations or fee hikes!!!!
Just go in peace or
leave in pieces.....
Tales of Telegraph Avenue
"Why are there no earthquakes in Berkeley?"
"Because there is a wingnut holding down every
street corner!" Yes, I am one of the wingnuts..
If your really crazy we elect you to city council.
A series of short stories about selling
pottery on Telegraph Avenue
One sunny afternoon, I am selling pottery
on the corner of Durante and Telegraph and...
Two exceptionally beautiful women come up to
my booth and select a few pots to purchase. They
each hand me 20 one dollar bills for their purchase.
I exclaim as I am wrapping up the pots, “Oh, you
must be waitresses?” To which they replied “No,
we’re lap dancers.” and smile at me and wink. I take
the stack of 40 one dollar bills, smell them and say
“Why so you are,” and put the money in my wallet.
My neighbor over hearing this comes up afterwards
and with her rye smile and evil wit says “My are their
customers cheap tippers.” I look at her and say, “Not
really, they spent the twenties over at the junk
Perhaps the funniest scene I’ve ever witnessed
on the Avenue came on a Cal and Stanford football
Big game Saturday. One of the fraternities was
having a keg party up the street. Somehow, one
of the local drunks had managed to get two beers
and smuggle them out of the party. As he staggered
down the street with a cup overflowing in each hand,
his pants fell down around his knees. He now had a
dilemma. What could he do? He couldn’t walk and he
couldn’t pull up his pants. He decided to try and make
his way to my table and put the beers down and pull
up his pants. Unfortunately, he tripped on his pants
and sent the beer spewing everywhere. In his
excitement, he let out a huge spirit of piss that
also when everywhere. My partner and I watched
this drama unfold with hysterical laughter until we
realized that there was a tidal wave of piss and
beer running down the street aimed directly
for our stack of boxes. Amid piss and beer soaked
drunk we worked feverishly to move the boxes
before the stream of innocuous liquid reached them.
It was impossible and we ended up with several
stinky and wet boxes of pottery.
A loud and obnoxious older woman from New York
approached the booth with her friend. She proceeds
to handle several things and then asks:
“Are these pots made by the natives?”
To which I replied: “No the Natives are a
Berkeley rock and roll band and they are playing
at the Starry Plough tonight.”
“What are those little pots for?”
I am often asked.
To which I reply: “They are for elves
and fairies to live in. You can put hopes,
wishes and dreams in them. They are
a ‘Chacka’, that is something to collect
dust in your grandmother’s window sills.
But wait a minute, your grandmother
doesn’t have dust in her window sills
does she? Its a pot to piss in, although
you better have careful aim, good control
and a tiny bladder, You better buy one
so you will always have a pot to piss in
or you won't have a window to throw it
out of.” (Note: Last year I sold over
1000 little pots at $2 each and 3 for 5.
They paid for my kilns to be fired.....)