tony pierce.com + mary!
busblog at gmail dot com

nothing in here is true

 


   Saturday, May 10, 2003  
im just not interesting enough. thats the only reason that i can figure that people link others and not me.

or maybe they think that i get enough links. or that all this so-called attention has gotten to my head. or maybe theyre ashamed to let people know that they read me. or maybe they think im dumb.

i mean, i know why certain girls dont date me, and why others stop dating me, or why some wont even talk to me.

and i can understand going to hollywood at midnight, twelve thirty, one am and not going to see the worlds greatest local band... because youre too shy. ok, no i dont understand that one. mostly because i dont even know what you look like, and i seriously dont know if youre a man or a woman because i dont trust anything that i read on the web, and even less that i read on blogs, and i recommend that you do the same.

and i can understand coming home eating a tv dinner, drinking a glass of rum and passing out as the lakers fucking romp all over the twin towers at like nine thirty only to be awaken by carson daly interviewing rebecca romaine stamos at 2 am in a sweaty lump on my couch, headache gone, fatigue of the week gone, clippergirl gone, and link gone from one of my favorite sites.

but fuck carson daly who is in vegas only to rip off howard stern who was in vegas, what, last week. and fuck carson who while in vegas asked two hot chicks how much money he would have to pay them to have a lesbian kiss - cuz isnt that from the first day of the first month of the first page out of the book of ripping off howard?

my new new years revolution is to make less sense, be less clear, be more flaccid, get less tang, eat less pie, trace less backs, kiss less necks, write less effectively and be on less blogrolls in two thousand and three out of four dentists say that i need to realise that im not eighteen any more and i have to seriously start thinking about wife kids job car house dog credit cards retirement plan rocking chair forgotten death hell ouch.

i watch the mexicans walk down the street and i drink a shot everytime i see a dad with the wife and two or three kids. always a kid in a stroller. always. call me a racist all you want fuckers. theres always a kid in a stroller and usually one in the oven. everything in this shit is true.

problem with being ahead of your time is its just as bad as being behind the times. fella named steve dahl was howard stern well before howard stern was howard stern and steve was number one in chicago and got fired all over and did song parodies and even brian wilson co-wrote tunes with him but steve never got a tv deal. oh wait. yes he did. steve got everything howard got. but not for as long because nobody was ready for it. none of those in power understood how to market it. so how on earth would a newspaper or magazine or even big time website understand why you would want to hire a so called stream of conscious blogger to write a daily column where he would say

fuck the president. are you people kidding me?

in my day columnists were either slice of life bullshit bob greene middle of the road lets talk about my newborn and the beatles, or they were mike royko defending the rights of the vets and their card game that got broken up by the rookie cop.

but royko still was based in politics and sports which no offense, dont get me wrong, fuck you if you get me wrong, but it's easy. sports and politics is easy and you know it. letting a guy say fuck this or fuck that isnt so easy, even if his name is royko but especially if his name is blonty pierce.

truth is i know that i will never write for the la times. just like i know a helicopter cant fly unless you let it make noise. just like how i know a plane cant take off unless its allowed to speed down a runway. just like how i know i will never get to go down on this blonde at work until i tell her shit anything other than durrrrrr.

the velvet underground were ahead of their time and why not be the velvet underground because twenty thirty years later you can put that shit in and tap the bottle and twist the cap and everything goes down smooth. maybe even smoother. why not be ahead of the game like the replacements since part of the thrill was being in on something that just wasnt going to make it to the moon cuz its only nineteen fifty and you can take my hand, you can take my whole heart too, but some things just were not meant to be.

im not just talking about me.

la fucking times barely knows which way to wipe its ass. im retarded even to want to work with that sort of mentality - again. where people look at your ac/dc tshirt and think youre too punk rock. where people look at your afro and think youre too "out there", where people look at your website and think that it automatically means that you know how to fix their fucking computers.

i know how to fix a whole lot of things slow pokes but your pentium one is not one of them.

this girl had met me once and we went out the other day and we got to her penthouse on wilshire in westwood and she slipped into something a little more comfortable before i had even taken off my hat. before the sound of the front door closing had even registered. before i had a chance to say something dumb. and that girl understood that in order to get to the good part you have to speed read through all the bullshit and everything that leads up to the climax. and that girl understood that the climax isnt the end of everything.

and that girl understood that her nakedness was just the very beginning. that she liked being naked. and she liked being touched. and she liked spending all night making out and doing all the things that the fcc wont let adults see on directv even though this is two thousand three even though its just sexy even though we pay money to the hole which is run by behind the times motherfuckers like colin powells sellout son.

and ive been with girls who understood all this too and maybe they could see the future and maybe they knew that hours of messing around is fine, just not with me. and i can deal with that too because some people should be people you work with and some people should be friends and some people should be sexy friends and some people should be your wife and some people should be people you read on the internet.

every day.

just like some people were born to fuck and some were meant to type fuck

just like some people are just dumb fucks.

just like some people are just dumb

fucks

and since those are the people who matter then thats the people i'll be

   Friday, May 09, 2003  
yesterday people thought i was depressed. karisa sent me the sweetest, nicest long email. renee called me as soon as i got home. and as i was taking my pre-tsar power nap i was awaken by the soft little knock of clippergirl replete with kneepads and hot pie.

i wasnt depressed yesterday, sweet souls.

nothing in here is true.

if im depressed, the last place i will corrupt will be this beautiful playground.

mayor richard riordan in one of his interviews about the la newspaper that he wants to form on the backs of my pals ken and matt said that he wanted a paper that would tell the good news as well as the bad.

easiest thing in the world to do, in my opinion, is to spew out negative crap, or find dirt on dirty people. or bitch. or whine. or vent.

yesterday i just didnt want to go to work. i wanted anything other than to have to get up in a copter and seek out the bad in my fair city. even if all i was going to do was rub it out.

sometimes you feel like youre a rat catcher or a cockroach exterminator. someone calls you about a smell and you go to where they smell it and you smell around and you say ah ha theres the rat and you flush it out and then you capture it.

rarely is it pretty. rarely are you happy that you found it. rarely is the mess that theyve been making for months or years enjoyable to dig through.

im the most positive person that i know and it affects me, so you should see how it affects the rest of the guys around here. guys who were never upbeat or optimistic one day last year, or the year before that, or ever.

these are the cast-offs, the unloved, the misfits, the loners. anarchists with guns. criminals who roam the streets undercover chasing other criminals.

i dont want to be around some of them any more than i want to be around the real crooks.

but then i get into the office and i have my morning meeting with my team and we joke around and that comraderie makes it worth it all.

and i end up not wanting to be a bum on the 21 looking like george bush whose best slice of luck will be getting a bus transfer twenty five minutes into the ride.

i end up wanting to be the superhero that many of you already are.

then i climb into chopper one, ask the crew to pop in janes addiction idiots rule, turn the engine over, and we're off.

dont cry for me islavista.

but when i fly over, feel free to show me your tits.

kate + welch + emmanuelle + layne
 
caption this, please



 
by midnight last night 20 of our closest friends had arrived at goldfingers on yucca and coulter, drummer of my favorite band, tsar, peered over his sunglasses and said, what sort of secret show is this?

as is normal for lots of bands who want to try out new material without the pressure of appeasing their fans, secret shows are in many cases good ideas. unless the secret gets let out. and all your friends arrive with giddy anticipation.

we were only one marc brown away from capacity when the quartet took the stage poised to unleash a dozen new high powered rock assaults onto the mostly virgin crowd. yes, tsars best friends were there, but most of the audience had no clue.

until it was too late.

ive had a lot of favorite bands over the years: ac/dc, iron maiden, the police, the replacements, led zeppelin, janes addiction, the wonderfuls, thee mystakes, the beastie boys, but never has one of my favorite bands become more aggressive and powerful and spiteful as theyve aged. the key word last night was rock. rock motherfuckers rock.

the hot girls had to back off, even their tattooed boyfriends couldnt get too close to the blast coming from the stage which was furious, friends. there were no ballads. there were no la la las, there was no phone call from the governor.

tsar's new tunes are thick and mighty and raw and sped up. you feel like you've been up all night on crank and a cute girl knocks on your door with some pure shit and your mind melts and you quickly tumble through the rabbit hole only to be greeted by... a trumpet, a gong, a timpani? no its the dual guitar attack of whalen and kern and kern only gets better on lead guitar and whalen wails in approval.

rock, motherfuckers. the kind that even midnight cant harness. a spit in the eye of the dance clubs blocks away with lines around the corner of trendies in their fendis. a poke in the eye at alleged rock radio with their incubus and suckubus and linkin puke and so ons. and a kiss on the cheek to everyone in attendence.

i have the best friends in the world and some of them are in the best band in the galaxy and if you dont believe me then youre wrong.

on the drive home my ears were ringing and the smiles shared between matt emmanuelle and i were big and bright as we sped through the streets that have names but dont matter for tsar had come and rocked our little worlds without even trying very hard. as if they had done it all in second gear. as if theyd done it left handed.

as great as last night was i will be expecting even more when tsar plays a real show on saturday may 17 at spaceland in silverrock.

tell your friends.

warn your enemies.

circa 1977 + leah + jesse walker + no left turn unstoned

   Thursday, May 08, 2003  
when i was in tenth grade we used to rollerskate a lot. from what i remember we rollerskated at least once a night during the week and also on friday nights and if we were really sick about it saturday nights too.

one particular cheerleader was cute, had great hair, but she was really shy. even back then i knew that she was probably getting her ass beat at home from her old man or something along those lines and it made me sad cuz she was a sweet girl and i had a full on raging crush on her. it was her who first got me interested in cheerleaders, and crimefighting. fyi.

because i was too scared to approach her as anything other than a friend friend, i set her up with one of my buddies who was kind of a burnout and not all that good with the ladies. well they got together and totally hit it off and instantly became boyfriend and girlfriend.

my friend who we will call Jeff morphed into a high school stud nearly over night, as can happen when youre 14-15 and finally getting some tail on the regular. cheerleader tail automatically makes you cooler on paper, but grateful constant willing and vengeful cheerleader tail can make you grow a foot in height and a mile in priceless reputation.

"Jeff" started to feather his hair, listen to zeppelin, and chainsmoke and before that next year was over he was in the top ten of cool dudes in my school.

fortunately he didnt forget me and what i had done for him, and fortunately she didnt forget what id done for her either and one day we were all rollerskating and it was a couples only skate and she asked me if i wanted to skate.

i saw Jeff playing defender so i took her up on her offer and we first held hands and then i skated backwards when she asked me if i knew how, and she put her hands on my hips. that move, at that age, people, in our town, was a big deal. fortunately the lights were low, lionel richie was being played on the turntable, and the mirrorball was spraying little droplets of light everywhere, so not many people could see us.

thanks for being such a great friend, she told me.

no problem i said.

jeff is the best guy, she told me.

i wanted to ask her if they were having sex, but courage was never my strong suit in highschool. it still haunts me.

we just skated around, and when the song ended we rolled over to the wall and she kissed me on the cheek.

best kiss on the cheek i ever had.

until the other night.

halfway there + lauren + a shot in the arm
 
today im jealous of everyone but me. bum in the back of the bus today looking like a black george bush, bald, im even jealous of him cuz he gets to take the 21 down to santa monica beach this morning and i dont. and just as i thought that he walks up to the front of the bus, a good twenty minutes into the ride and asks for a transfer and he gets one.

you're not supposed to get a transfer like that. you can only get one right when you pay your fare. he pulled up his pants a little and hopped back to the back of the bus with me and the drunken mexican cuz he knew his good luck.

i was jealous of the drunken mexican this morning too. one because he was drunk and i couldnt be. two because he got to ride the 21 down to santa monica beach today and i had to come in to work. c because he got to crack open a can of beer as the bus was putting on the air brakes and everyone must have heard that thing opening but nobody knew it was a beer since it was cleverly disguised with a little brown paper bag. i didn't look at him out of jealousy until i almost got to my stop and then i noticed that he had todays new york post. how does he get todays new york post! that shit cost a buck out here.

im jealous of anyone who has a date this weekend. im jealous of everyone in corvettes. im jealous of everyone who actually gets respected in their chosen professions. im jealous of anyone who has a viable career.

im jealous of the guy who pawed my true love last night. a guy who doesn't share any of her beliefs be them politics or rock music. its the politics that steams me up the most. even the fortune teller told her that this wasnt the man for her but she doesn't care. none of you girls care. only girls who want me are the ones who know im the wrong man for them and they keep on paying attention to me even though the sign says closed.

my heart is a flower, its wilting though. they say that some flowers will bloom when theres no water. this flower gets pissed off and sometimes that coloration is beautiful but right now its just weepy and sad and chris taught me that if you prick a droopy tulip or gerber near the top of the stalk it will prop itself right back up, but this stalk knows that trick and just needs a little sip, not a prick. definitely not a prick.

tomorrow night i want to get with this girl i used to do. dont be so surprised, i want to get with every girl i used to do. even though the wind in the willows whisper to keep moving forward, little tone keeps saying lets go back. how far back. way back. and i wouldn't mind the new ones but the new ones lie. and they keep lying. only place you can lie is in your blog, new ones. and even though the old ones lie too, theyre familiar lies that we've heard before. i'll be back at a reasonable time. god i love you tony. god you're so big. god you're so great.

and tick tock it dont stop. even the sun isnt sure about rising this morning. even the heart isnt sure about beating tonight. met a girl yesterday who looks like that chick who played frida, but minus the unibrow and minus the ed norton boyfriend. she was telling me all this great stuff and then she told me about something that she heard in church last sunday and i asked her what church she was at and she told me and i said shit i used to go to that church all the time. but it was cold yesterday and she just had dranken an iced coffee and wanted to end our little meet and greet before i could ask her on a date this weekend.

how about a little saturday night mass, hot chick, i was about to ask her. only i would ask a girl to church on a first date. and only i would think that theres absolutely nothing wrong with going for it after ice cream and movies and drinks. and only i would get said yes to. unfortunately only i would let opportunities slip away like sand in the hourglass, these are the los angeles times.

killer mart + chris howell + izzy wizzy

   Wednesday, May 07, 2003  
if i was a girl i would be braless like all the time. id do my hair crazy all the time. constantly dying it. wigs. the whole deal.

id be my girlfriend, of course. cuz im a great boyfriend, once you get to know how i work.

53. Leho Pictures

id wear cheerleader skirts matched with guns n roses tees, ripped. unmade hair. the just-raped look.

if i was a girl my blog would probably be ten times more popular, and it would allow me this sort of slam against my local newspaper:

Dear LA Times,

Why is is that you suck so bad?

I'm a fucking girl and even I know that when you have a local angle on a story of (ironically enough, newspapers) you don't bury that local flavor TWELVE fucking paragraphs into the story!

Are you people all high over there?

Is this Let Your Children Run Your Business Day?

fucking a i called this shit yesterday. quit being defined by life outside of LA!

Your staff writer starts his story by telling the tale about a bunch of college conservatives in Carolina(!) who thought their school paper was too liberal, so they wanted to start a new paper with a different slant. They wanted to make professors feel "threatened" when they got a phone call from this new paper.

Nowhere is the impetus for these southern kids Better journalism, more facts, more investigative stories, clearer writing, or freer reign over op-ed pieces. All the kids at the Jesse Helms Center seem to be whining about is that lots of college students were against this last war, according to your paper.

Meanwhile fifteen paragraphs into the story, you get this quote:

"A lot of my professors don't try to hide the fact they are outright Marxists," said one Nicholas Romero, 20, editor of the UC Santa Barbara Gaucho Free Press. The Free Press is the new conservative paper, you tell us, an alternative to the highly acclaimed UCSB Daily Nexus, which launched the careers of great writers like Welch, Amy, Ben, the Whalen Bros., and yours truly.

Once again, LA Times, I'm a chick and I know a great fucking quote when I read it, and you just buried one by wanking off to the North Carolinian readership that you seem to be pandering to.

Now, it doesnt matter to me that Nick's allegedly Marxist professors have no influence on the Nexus, since there is no journalism school at UCSB and no advisors, but i'll let it slide, just like you did.

But just look at the sweet juicy diss that the Gaucho Free Press levies at the Daily Nexus:

"Romero and co-editor Gretchen Pfaff, 21, had no interest in writing for the main campus newspaper, the Daily Nexus, which they say too often glamorizes drug use and promiscuity. 'It's offensive,' Pfaff said."

So let me get this right. You have a story about conservative college alternative papers sprouting up. Instead of focusing on the UCSB papers (one which is established, award-ridden, and glorious; one that is new and Republican), you spend the entire first third of the article writing about a lame ass redneck fishwrap deep in the heart of Dixie?

Lick my clit, LA Times. Lick it good.

LA Examiner + marc brown + la daily news
 
i love brezney's real astrology



Libra ( September 23 - October 22 )

At a recent concert, devotional singer Krishna Das recounted a story of escorting his revered teachers, a frail old Indian couple, to an acupuncturist in New York. They had to walk through a neighborhood dominated by strip clubs, prostitutes, and drug dealers. Every few feet, a new salesperson approached with an offer of crack, weed, crank, or sexual adventures. Krishna Das worried about subjecting his beloved guides to such a degrading experience, but they were unfazed. "This is heaven," said the woman. When a surprised Krishna Das asked what she meant, she replied, "Heaven is any place where one's needs can be met." My wish for you this week, Libra, is that you be as open-minded as she was about where heaven might reside for you.
 
what do you do when one of your heroes is a convicted purveyor of kiddie porn?

kill yr idols?

forgive and forget?

ignore the obvious?

me, i like to blame the President of the United States.

damn you george!

well its only fair. how many knee jerkers instantly blame sex drugs rock for the decline of western civ? or the fact that their daughters are listening to 50 cent and their sons are dressing like him.

i just want to know where all the devil music has gone to? how come nashville pussy hasnt taken over the world?

doesnt marilyn manson have a new record out? why havent i heard it?

why do i know more about the justin timberlake tour than i do ozzfest?

did you know that american idol was in the top 5 in neilson ratings two nights last week?

this may be a stretch, but through all this am i to assume that pete townshend isnt the only one salivating over children?

the kids write me and send me nice things and they want to molest me, but i just sit in my media room flipping channels waiting for something to entertain me and i just flip and flip and flip until i pass out on my leather couch only to be awaken by my robotic dog, my sole companion who yips when he needs to be recharged.

sprinklers soak the grass, and my window, and my white man lawn jockey.

wind chimes tinkle their tunes in the wind.

raccoons sniff at the buddah bird feeder.

weather vane just spins and spins and the cock aims at the wrong direction making me wonder how on earth can a weather vane be broken?

i hope i get old before i get old.

true boy + oish + the ward + fun squared

   Tuesday, May 06, 2003  
there are very few things that i like better than pictures of your towns.

quarter beer night, three for one lapdances, phish food ben and jerrys, bank error in my favor, clean sheets and dirty girls, pringles salt and vinegar, all my fantasy baseball teams, all the people who say nice things about me, cold beer from a keg in isla vista, oriental rugs, white chocolate, the invention of the cd burner, white garters, my green thumb, christina aguelirea, dusty baker, diet dr. pepper (thanks, laurita), super balls, truth or dare, stolen lighters, frosting, seeing how fast cars can go, cheerleaders, ultra violet, sexual tension, violets, cold grape jelly, passing out while kissing, not guilty by reason of insanity, retsin, monocles, nighties, recessed lighting, mood rings, cashiers who can be convinced to mark down one box of something that costs thirty bucks down to fifteen bucks because its supposed to be buy one get one free and theres no more left except that one box, paris hilton, and the fact that im about to get a motherboard and 2.2 ghz processor for less than ninety nine bucks, to name a few.

raspil at bluecad has an eyeopening look at salt lake city, her town.

i read blogs all the time, and so very often i read people say that they have nothing to say. if you really have run out of ways to talk about sex drugs rock then start telling us about your town.

i live in east hollywood. little armenia. south of thai town. the jacarandas are blooming right now. green happy trees that turn purple in the spring. its been cold lately. electric blanket weather still. sux. this girl sent me a picture of right below her neck to right above her belly botton. thanks nice person.

three willie nelson looking bums got on the bus this morning smelling bad sitting near the front, wearing american flag head bands.

ive never been offended by an odor until today.

it made me want to open a showerhouse for the homeless and free laundramat.

if youre going to have homeless, they dont really need to reek. lets get it together.

if you make a photo essay about your town, tell me in the comments here.

bluecad + halfway there + dave hecker
 
when im not saving the world i design see-thru wedding gowns.

vera wang doesnt have shit on me.

bitch.

yesterday two smart people were talking about me, apparently. how fucked up is that?

i wasnt trying to "out" jason for not using Blogger, since he pretty much outs himself by linking MT himself under "Tools" (meanwhile Blogger Pro is mysteriously missing.)

anyhow, according to his post he and metafilter mastermind matt haughey were comparing me to everything that was ever posted on GeoCities.

ah, flattery.

although now i cant remember even one good thing ive ever seen on GeoCities, minus some PS-1 game cheats, Directv hack ideas, and secret photos from my girl flagrant.

anyway, here is what i wish their conversation had been

jason: pierce is the shit.

matt: yup yup

jason: we found a gold mine, we're thinking about giving it to him so he would work for us.

matt: fuck that shit homey, we found two gold mines and we have the offer in legal right now.

jason: dont lie, he doesnt even post on metafilter any more.

matt: he does, different user name.

jason: serious? whats his user name?

matt: its on the dl, brah, if you read close, you could see.

jason: we're gonna get him a car, and paint it so it says google on one side and blogger on the other side, and pay him to drive around and write.

matt: we're going to get him a hummer.

jason: we already sent christina aguelera over to give him that.

matt: no, asswipe, a truck. we're going to give him a hummer and have it say metafilter all over it and pay him to do a blog about all the things he learned each day from metafilter.

jason: we're going to give him a motorhome.

matt: we're going to give him a motorhome and a driver.

jason: we're going to give him a motorhome and a home in the east village.

matt: where will he park it?

jason: jersey.

matt: we're going to let him take over sportsfilter.

jason: we're going to let him go on a kissing spree. 365 girls in 365 days.

matt: thats sorta sick, yo.

jason: the motorhome chauffer will be a retired doctor who will give the girls check ups right there on the road before tony even meets them.

matt: once again, my friend, you have sunk my battleship.
 
for cinco de mayo christina aguelera knocked on my door and told me she'd do me if i spelled her name right in my blog.

my dick hasnt been so happy with me lately.

it's been all, dude, i can turn on you over night. youre not a young pup anymore. i can make you pee at all hours of the night. i can fall asleep on you when you need me the most. like nine inch nails, i can make you hurt.

i was all, quit giving me the middle finger every morning and maybe i'll be better to you.

my hearts been giving me the middle finger a lot lately too.

my hair's falling out. my guts sticking out. my teeth are eroding. my souls exploding.

only thing doing what its supposed to are my knees, which are there for me every night as i pray for that one special girl to not care so much how i spell her name.

cubs lost yesterday lakers lost yesterday guy at work told me that some guy at the chicago tribune told all the cubs fans that yeah theyre still in first place but heres a list of reasons why they wont be there in october.

and i asked the guy if the guy put Because the Tribune Owns Them on the top of the list?

and the guy said no.

sellout.

waiting for the train this morning i paced around thinking about charles bukowski. my hero. i was thinking about how he lived about a mile away from that subway station about 50 years ago, broke, drunk, ugly, lonely. i thought about how he would type and type and never bitch. just tell the facts.

i thought about how he would work when he had to and he would drink. how he would see a woman who didnt look too repulsive whose run up her stocking took an interesting turn, and how he'd hook up with her. how he never bothered with counting how many he'd had, or feeling guilty about the number. how he never worried about his age, how many moons he saw, how his hairline was.

i thought about how he knew he was the fucking shit on the typewriter and how his poems stood out like a sore thumb in the twentieth century and still all the lady men raked in all the fame fortune fun.

i love bukowski cuz he never bitched.

the facts are last night i didnt get any, though i could have. i didnt get some although minds would have been blown.

none was got, none was done, i was alone, but i wasnt alone.

chatted with a law student girl far away who said the nicest things to me.

wished for a while that i was 103.

robin + tiffany + tobasco guy

   Monday, May 05, 2003  
hi canada

whats going on?

just watching the lakers lose and thinking of you.

are the girls in canada beautiful as the internet would have us believe?

is it true that youre about to legalize marijuana just for me?

i dont really smoke marijuana, but thank you, youre sweet.

canada, is it true you dont have the nfl?

is it true that its warmer up there than everyone thinks. that everyone wears fur coats and noone stinks.

is it true that lots of the hot chicks speak french and that kurdt kobain used to go up there to chill out.

its not as warm in la as the brochure makes it look.

and weed isnt legal, its sixty an eighth which makes me happy that i dont smoke it.

and we dont have the nfl either.

canada, is it true that you have socialized medicine, clean air, and its ok to have a pirated directv dish so you can get every channel on earth?

i think im falling in love with you.

c'est d'accord?

i know magazines cost more and cigarrettes do too, but i dont smoke cigarrettes either.

smokes should cost more. they'll kill ya.

weed just makes you laugh.

and eat.

everything in the house.

and drink so much diet pepsi its wrong.

canada is it true that you want to make a new las vegas up there?

its not true?

hmmm, well, do you wanna?

canada, do you think one of your newspapers might hire me?

i'll do anything.

i <3 canada + david murray is an idiot + canada, can i bring kristin?
 
since i started this blog in the late '50s hundreds of you have chosen to link me. many because of my anna kournikova coverage. some for the witty political insights. some just for the free porn.

like the children that i have sired, im not afraid to choose favorites.

one of my favorite linkers is the Snoop Doggy Blog. i dont know who this person is, i dont know how they found me, and im not terribly interested in finding out. im just happy to be on the best Snoop Dogg web site. much love to my homie from the LBC.

and Snoop, because i know youre down with her, Anna K. will be starting her comeback tonight, cinco de beer-o down in hotlanta georgia in the $25,000 Pinto Open. or something like that.

another one of my favorite spots to see a link to my name is on the Instapundit's site. i dont know who the instapundit is - oh wait, yes i do - and he hardly ever talks about me, but theres my name on the left hand side just like i am someone special. ahhh, luxury.

then of course theres Ev's site. ev created the software that we now call Blogger. how cool is it to be linked on his page? check that, he took down all his links. die yuppie pig.

just joshing. theres plenty of googlebloggers out there who link to me and that makes up for it. i especially like being linked by jason sutter, a googler blogger because he has the nads to use moveable type.

i like being linked by writers who write way better than me, like soundbitten, big time movers and shakers like doc searls and jeff jarvis, sexy writers like the Adultress and the Reverse Cowgirl, and sports freaks like the baseball blog and classy mofos like riley dog, none of which makes any sense to me.

and then theres all the hot girls around the planet who link to the busblog.

too many to talk about here.

far too many.

but right now im liking the fact that bing is reading this #1 cuz shes from toronto and lots of good things come from toronto #2 cuz shes asian, and asian girls own me, and #3 cuz she asked me not to link her for idealistic reasons, and i think thats cute.

im also liking that Laura has me (near) at the top of her list because i used to read her thing like years ago, and its cool that she is reading my thing now despite the fact that we've never even exchanged even one email.

but perhaps my favorite hot chick website link of the day has got to be from krix at keanuvision who might just be the most excited person in the galaxy since her boy will be starring in the most highly anticipated sequel since empire strikes back.

thanks to everyone who sends people to this dumb page, i will thank more of you next time.
 
karisas birthday was a smashing success. the annual sausage party went off without a hitch, the landlord was grumpy but didnt evict anyone, the neighbor down below made a bunch of noise and answered her doorbell in her lingerie but didnt call the cops, pink dot arrived after several hours and only charged us $30 for two cases of corona instead of $40

and even though there was plenty of nudity most of it came from my ass.

there are tons of pictures but most of them are blurry and drunken and sloppy and happy so use your imagination, it was a party of k*s work friends and friend friends and i got lots of stains on my cords to prove that a good time was had by all.

i like birthdays when the guest of honor isnt afraid to ask for everything that they want. karisa is a carnivore like no other. this girl eats more steaks than you would believe.

so around 9pm when everyone had gathered it became obvious that the macaroni salad and guacamole and homemade birthday cake just wasnt going to do the trick, so i was sent out with karisas hot roommate to the store to get a dozen or so steaks, charcoal, and beer.

we returned, i started the grill poolside and in the dark i made mostly medium-rare steaks for everyone with nothing more than some small tongs and a bottle of A-1. because the ladies didnt have a large assortment of steak knives, several of us resorted to cutting our t-bones with huge butcher knives. it was quite fun. i recommend it.

a handsome hawaiian neighbor arrived with his little dog and made the girls stand up and pay attention due to his striking resemblance to keanu reeves, and none of them noticed when his little mutt did his business by the hot tub.

after our meal we adjurned to the apartment and played a variety of dice and card games. the purpose of the sport apparently was to get all of us as drunken as possible before our drives home. since i had no car, i didnt hold back one bit. first i had mexican beer, then i had light beer, then i had some shots of vanilla rum, then i uncorked the wine, then back to beer, then a shot of some other good stuff.

karisa's favorite card drinking game is called Allen. since it was her birthday we played a few rounds of that leaving everyone rosy cheeked and laughing.

the cake was delicious as was the evening and i am so happy that i was invited, so thank you karisa for having me over, any time you turn 80 again, please look me up.

standing room only + bukkake does britan + nevada ken