today is mick jagger's 60th birthday. probably the coolest man alive.

sixty and on a world tour.

sixty and knocking up south american girls like it aint no thing.

sixty and can still sing.

the celebration started early here in the hollywood foothills when i went through with a date that i had with a girl who during the last two meetings wouldnt so much as even kiss me. prounouncing repeatedly on both occasions that she was "over" me.

over.

and because life is a roulette wheel where one should always bet on black sometimes the girls who are over you will miraculously find themselves under you when you least expect it.

for no good reason. not like you deserve it. not like you did anything right.

dark skinned girl.

not of this world.

full lips thatd id kissed before but forgotten about

permanent pout.

we talked through the best movies and brainstormed

she told me i had great ideas and i went on and on cuz i do have great ideas motherfucker.

we hadnt kissed or held hands or done anything other than sit on opposite ends of the couch.

and i said lets continue this conversation in the other room.

only one other room in this house.

always be closing.

and she said can i pee first.

felt like i was with an ex wife. familiar but formal. hesitant yet heated.

but better she said than any other

and then we toasted to mr. mick jagger.

no use for virtue + os's birthday + ming the mechanic

# | |

the problem with spam is that i do want a bigger penis.

i would like to lose weight with Phentermine.

i would like to buy direct and save hundreds on your auto warranty!

even though my penis is nice, and i only have about 5 lbs left to lose

and i dont have a car.

the problem with spam is that it offers me things that i never thought i wanted, but there it is in my personal email account, there on my beloved home computer, in the nook of my home, and it wants me to click for more information.

and then they lie to me because their products dont work.

my penis isnt really going to get any bigger.

im not going to save hundreds on my auto warranty!

i clicked an email offer that promised that i could "watch fools in real street fights" and the email was empty.

what a tease.

i want to watch fools in real street fights .

i like the spam that addresses me personally. even though i get a lot of real emails from real people about real thing, i like the spam that says, "Tony, Earn a Paralegal Degree Today!"

Spam, thank you, i think i could use a paralegal degree TODAY!

unfortunately i think i confuse the bots that collect my email addresses because on my website i oftentimes encourage people to write to me on various email accounts. ones that are specific to the topic at hand.

for example i have a link on this blog that allows you to email me at blog@tonypierce.com, that way i know that people are using that link.

when people paypal my ass they use paypal@tonypierce.com, my kazaa address is kazaa@tonypierce.com. (maybe i should change that one.)

this creates spam that sometimes says things like "Paypal, Start Saving on Healthcare for You and Your Family" or "blog, Small Blue Pill, BIG Savings!"

what i dont understand, though, is spam that is emailed to tony@tonypierce.com that says "Tony Pierce, how would you like to have Tony@TonyPierce.com?"

unlike most people i dont get upset at spam because i read all my mail online now, which i highly recommend because it prevents most email-borne viruses. most.

currently im using SBC/Yahoo as my email client since they provide my internet access.

this week they have decided to put all my proper mail and send it to my Junk mail folder.

meanwhile all the Junk mail that i have "reported" to them as being junk still finds its way easilly into my Inbox.

because its friday and because i actually scan through all my folders i have found some of the mail that was incorrectly redirected and recovered it.

but if i havent replied to your email by this Monday please dont have your feelings hurt, it was eaten by the evil. just resend it.

if you want you can send it to godiloveyou@tonypierce.com

orby online + brent devries + totally awesome

# | |

caption this, please

# | |

i have nothing to say to you. i hardly ever have anything to say to you. one day i will have something to say to you but today i have nothing.

walked outside to check out the strawberries and saw that the aliens have carved out another maze in my purple haze field. crazy rascals.

oh wait, it was paris hilton and lionel richie's daughter.

i still have nothing to say. i didnt ride the bus today. i got a ride from rosalita who was going my way. i didnt have anything to say to her either. we rode in silence and listened to howard stern berating his editor for dating a 20 yr old intern.

howard: how old are you?
gange: 34.
howard: why are you dating a teenager?
gange: shes not a teenager shes twenty.
bababooey: she just turned twenty, howard.
howard: shes barely even developed, what are you doing man?
bababooey: oh, shes developed.

everyone laughs.

rosalita turns up the radio and shoots me a dirty look.

rosalita is 28.

im older than 34.

im 109, turning 110 in a few months.

rosalita wants me as her man and i dont want to be her man and i dont want to be the man of any teenagers neither but she wouldnt believe me if i told her that because some things you cant convince anyone of.

plus i got nothing to say to her.

stale silence.

the worst sort of silence.

the kind you get from two people who have ripped off each others clothes on several occasions in drunken sinfests and now arent really sure they even know each other let alone like each other.

and now are stuck in rush hour traffic.

listening to sit n sleep commercials.

azarok + the king of all bloggers + a review of the neil young rock opera

# | |

paris wants to know why i dont write about her any more. i keep telling you my life isnt easy.

my biggest problem is that the cigar smoking monkeys who type this blog have been churning out crap lately and cranking the faith no more isnt encouraging them the way it used to.

so today you'll have to settle for me.

hi.

last night was a weird one.

someone stopped by my house to give me two presents as "a peace offerring." I'm not really into people coming over to my house who im not in the best of terms with, but she was cute and she did have the Anna Kournikova maxim, so i accepted the gifts and went back to choking my monkey.

i mean monkeys.

i mean, going back to watching big brother four which was a sham, and now im gonna stop watching it.

then i fell asleep on my couch. too much rum and thai food will do that to you.

i woke up and might have had a conversation or might have had a dream. its hard to tell.

if you call me and im mumbling im probably dreaming.

its probably a good time to ask me all the deep dark questions that are burning in your little hearts.

i remember a girls voice.

she told me some things about how i took care of business that made me happy.

but again, it may have just been a dream. but since i dont dream it may have been real.

when i get home i'll check the caller-id.

i want to shake the hand of the man who invented caller-id.

or hug the woman who thunk it up.

this morning i woke up in a pool of my own blood.

then i realized that really was a dream.

and woke up again, but this time in my kingsized waterbed which i had thought had sprung a leak.

but it was just the sprinklers from outside that had shot through my open window.

ah, spring.

paris and nicky spotting + another paris and nicky spotting

# | |

when im wanting to feel a little gangsta i take off my shirt and put in death certificate and see what theyre saying about me on technorati.

Jakester:

Cool.

Tony Pierce linked to me on his site along with about 5 or 6 other blogging Jasons. I don't always agree with his politics and I am sure the reverse is true too but I have always really enjoyed his writing - he is one of the top creative writers on the internet in my opinion and I can't believe those bastards in LA won't hire him. In fact, I am a proud owner of not one, but TWO of his books. One of these days I will be able to auction one of those on Ebay for a ka-zillion bucks.

Just heard that a meteorite has hit somewhere around western Washington. Excellent.

Ok, back to the All-Star game.

:: 7:58 PM [link]

rotten little girls plaything:

A new find.

"it was my teenage belief that prostitutes knew more about the love-making process and as long as i made sure that they showered first, then they would be the correct teacher to send me on my way into manhood." Tony Pierce.com

lynn carrier:

One last thing, thanks for the love Tony. During the last year I have read everything Tony Pierce has written. He has been such an inspiration and example for me.

What really excited me isn't that he is great, he is great too, but what stuck with me is that his writing improved and it didn't have to because he was great from the git go.

Check him out. Someday you and I will both say, we knew him when.

::: posted by Lynn at [8:12:17 AM Link]

noah glass:

7.22.2003

tonypierce.com + busblog: "as if we're not all gawkers at a terrible wreck on the highway", damn, tony pierce's lies contain so much truth...and for what it is worth, I think that you are insane in such an elegant way.

11:28 AM

this means whore:

Wednesday, July 23, 2003

tony made me promise that i would write 6 our of every 7 days. so i am doing this before i do anything else! even though i'm stoned and a little tipsy off of the half bottle of red wine i drank earlier with court... :)

makeout city:

everything tony writes makes me laff really hahd. honestly. it's like watching a pauly shore movie, except you're not laughing because someone paid for it.

# | |

had to fight some actual crime today. it put things in perspective.

made me not be so distracted by things that arent important.

trivial things.

things like how long or short my hair is.

things like how i cant get mtv west coast on my directv.

things like how i dont have a nice tie to wear to coulter's wedding on saturday.

you learn a lot in the xbi, more than you would in any other agency because in this one people are not afraid to shoot and not afriad to kill and life and living and living in the moment is everything.

every moment is precious.

even this one.

sometimes i'll see someone kill someone or get shot at and i'll think, that guy put a tupperware lid on his green beans last night.

and now noones gonna eat those green beans.

and theyre still perfectly good.

but i aint eating no dead mans tupperwared green beans i dont care how good they are.

i see some guys steal dead guys clothes, i think thats not so cool.

people talk about bad karma. i dont believe in karma.

i believe in

fuck, i dont know what i believe in.

i just want to have a good time and save the world.

<3 kristin <3

# | |

somtimes its tough to keep the busblog positive. sometimes the shit flows downhill and you realize that youre at the bottom of the hill. sometimes you think that your ways arent any better than anybody elses ways and even though you have done your best to treat people with respect and class and gentle behavoir that they'll still talk about you like youre some belching fratboy who literally does have notches on his bunkbed and he cant remember which one you are.

and far be it for me to say that the good book teaches us any of this but it does. of course it does.

even Jesus's disciples, dudes who dropped what they were doing to follow him let him down on nearly every step of the way: outting him, and not trusting him, and lying about him, and dissing him three times before the cock crowed.

stories that are important to remember because the underlying theme is: if this will happen to the son of God, your fate is even worse, fuckhead, so dont be so surprised.

learn from everything is what the good angel says, dont be sexist, dont be racist, dont be religionist, dont be agist. bad angel says are you going to believe that shit? good angel says remember the bus.

when the bus is full it will blow right past a busstop. fast as it can.

if you can catch a glimpse of the driver he will give you the hitchhiker thumb which means "the next bus right behind me will get you."

theres another bus coming.

one thats better.

one thats not as full. one whose a/c isnt blowing like mad just because it *was* hot outside earlier in the day.

one that doesnt smell of old tacos.

one that isnt driven by someone who doesnt know how to gently apply the brakes.

one who calls out the stops in a pleasant manner, and not in grumbles to himself, or not at all.

one whose passengers are quiet or respectful, who dont gossip and spread lies.

there'll be another bus coming

the wait wont be that long.

it might feel like its taking forever, and it might actually take a long time

but its coming.

hose monster + alecia + kimbalina + noah

# | |

behind every great blog, theres a great host. without todays birthday boy, mr oswald rosenkrantz the busblog wouldnt have ever existed.

and before the busblog there was tonypierce.com and before that there was allstar install.

and before that there was simply darkness

and light.

somewhere in the middle of all that came os.

fluent in french, czech, and hillbilly the youngest rosenkrantz of the boise rosenkrants, os transferred into uc isla vista after being kicked out of princeton for delivering an oral presentation in a ridiculously high voice.

as he tells it it was a fine overview in the downfalls of reganomics and its impact on southern californian auto sales and its correlation to the nations ultimate economic downward spiral, but because everyone in the classroom was laughing so hard the professor couldnt hear.

and eventually he didnt want to hear at all and ordered our man out of the class and damned into new jersey.

a pool shark, a poker cheat, a left handed stepchild who looks good in any hat, vest, or lampshade.

hes the crosslegged doodad floating across your conscious always there always aware always near always dear.

i call him mr. os because he brings the southern gentleman out of you.

one whose bathtub gin tastes hauntingly different than yours.

and thats because its from a meticulously manicured still.

not a spare tub.

class, bitch. class.

os is the type of fella who could wear a pink beret at a rodeo and walk out of the rodeo with two pink berets.

drunk.

and yet appearing perfectly sober.

until the cawwing begins.

happy birthday mr. os.

only one more year till 100.

that broken girl + leah + nothing special website hosting

# | |

i have a date on friday night. i hope she knows it's a date, cuz im treating it like a date.

she better think its a date, cuz i want to go on a date with her.

a real date.

flowers, wine, movies, ruffies.

it was all through friendster. i sent her a message. i said, hey let me take you on a date.

she said, i would really like that.

i said, great, how about this day, she said, maybe but this day would be better.

that day was friday, universally known as hot date night.

and since shes a hot girl and im a... guy, that means she must know that this is a hot date.

as in dont make any plans with anyone else that night night.

as in wear something sultry night, cuz i will.

as in be prepared to get liquored up real good cuz at some point i will be asking to investigate tan lines.

and unlike the santa monica police force, im a thorough examiner.

i hope this girl wants it to be a date.

dates are great.

if youre reading this hot babe: lets have a date.

be nice. i'll be nice.

first person who isnt nice has to take off their top and kiss me.

a good kiss too.

none of that phoney baloney air kisses.

fuck i hope its a real date.

sublog + sk smith + vacant

# | |

people mistake me for ll cool j all the time. but only when i take off my shirt.

some hot chick is sending me letter after letter.

each letter has a square of a picture in it.

eventually i will have the entire photograph and because im a man im hoping its a wonderful nude.

although with my luck it will probably be a still life of a fern.

bus came on time, train came on time. woman had a little kid with her. he started crying and she pantomimed punching him in the face.

he cooed.

when i got on the second bus i saw a different woman holding a baby. next to her was a little girl who must have been 6 years old. she was carrying the babies diaper bag.

the baby was being held in the mommas arms in a sheet. looking freshly stolen.

no stroller. no clothes bag. no bottle.

the little girl seemed perfectly fine at 8 in the morning holding the diaper bag getting off the bus and crossing the street with her mom who couldnt hold her hand because she had both hands on the infant.

get used to it little girl, i wanted to tell her.

but i dont speak spanish.

saw her staring at me though through the scratchy plastic bus windown, etched at by gangmembers

she probably thought i was ll.

she probably thinks a lot of things.

i wondered if the real ll cool j had problems that i did.

new poem + dye winter + inluminent

# | |

you know what's funny? the more i write about kobe bryant, the more hits i get.

not because people are dying to hear my opinion, i think they want to see pictures.

witness

this is number four on the google search for "Kobe Bryant Assualt Pictures" right now. i bet it goes higher by tomorrow:

tonypierce.com + busblog
... shes very worried that her momma wont like this picture and i said, whats not to like? ... kobe bryant is being accused of sexual assualt and i have no idea how ... tonypierce.com/blog/2003_07_06_blogarc.htm - 87k - Cached - Similar pages

i could get a million hits today, my friends. maybe two million.

all i have to do is put up those cheerleader pictures of the alleged accuser.

maybe even three million.

everyone is saying shes crazy anyway.

because drudge is the kneepad sporting towelboy of the right, on thursday he did as he was told, and outted this guy the white house suddenly didnt like.

the guy is abc reporter Jeffrey Kofman who did a peice on last tuesdays "world news tonight" about the 2nd brigade of the us army who are pissed off about still being in iraq after ten months.

the white house apparently gets a little uncomfortable when our troops are saying on the evening news that defense secrectary rumsfield should resign, so instead of bringing them home (like they had reportedly promised several times this summer) they instead went into kofman's background and found a feature on him done by the Advocate in '01 (google "Jeffrey Kofman" and it's the third return) and sent it to drudge, the washington post reported friday.

drudge hid the homophobia by announcing to his readers that Kofman was: canadian!

huh?

peter jennings, the long-time anchor of abc's world news tonight is canadian. so who cares, eh?

but thats where the towelboy links to the two year old advocate feature.

cuz hes a bitch.

all about them hits.

all about that dirty money from the filthy frauds.

because drudge cant write. never could. hes no writer. but who cares on the web.

the right hand of the web might be the information and the writing and the pictures

but its left hand is the hypertext.

the links.

58. american pipedream

the thing that makes this better than books.

all the links today pointed to the alleged pictures of the alleged accuser of kobes alleged crime and now all those servers are down.

perfect time for someone who wants attention and wants hits to post a few.

maybe make a photo essay.

maybe pawn it off as some bullshit cutesy pie survey, an excuse to exploit.

"do you think this is kobe's accuser?"

as if it matters.

as if we're not all gawkers at a terrible wreck on the highway.

i knew about the santa monica farmers market thing within minutes. i keep telling you, my boy os was there.

twenty minute busride to the wessside and i coulda had all the gore for net to whore.

its news, isnt it? its local. its tragic. its la...and our sick affair with cars.

and God knows drudge woulda done it

if he actually pulled up his pants once in a while and did something himself.

the root of all evil might be the love of money

and at the root of matt drudge is the shame of self hate as ugly and woeful as his web design.

word is the gay lesbian and transgendered community have donated a small fortune to drudge so he wouldnt come out in fear that it would give them a bad name.

which is precisely why im glad that he doesnt like being called a blogger.

madpony + lynn carrier + lane + 21mm

# | |

caption this, please

# | |

i try not to think about the popularity or influence of the busblog because all that sort of thinking will do is make you not write things.

today is no exception.

today i got an email from a loyal reader who gave me the link to pictures, an address, and a telephone number of kobe's accuser.

but since i dont know if those pics are really her, it would be crappy for me to put that link on here.

even for all 1,000 of you who frequent this url daily.

but especially for the 10,000 + who would instantly find this site if i posted it thanks in part to Google, or the 100,000+ of your friends who you'd forward the link to.

crazy thing is... if the busblog only got 50 hits a day, i would totally post the link, and maybe the pics, which makes no sense because then those pics would get spread nearly as easilly.

i would do it in hopes that traffic would then increase on my site and catapult me into "A-list" bloggers.

like drudge.

who for some reason isnt posting the pictures.

probably because it isnt confirmed.

not that that ever really mattered to drudge before.

but apparently the popularity of his site has probably reached a level that now he's probably afraid of getting his worthless ass sued.

i have no money, im not afraid of being sued, but this blog isnt based around rumors and gossip, like drudge's, so in a way im disappointed that he isnt doing what he does... uh... best.

which is spreading rumor and untruths like a little worm.

but on the other hand, maybe he has grown up a little and has decided that a young blonde girl's prom picture and home address and home phone number isnt worthy of a few thousand hits.

nice work, retard.

now why dont you dig up some real news today, like how bush knew about 9/11 and how he lied to get us into a war, and how he hasnt found osama or saddam.

for starters.

newsbitch.

i think im being honored here, but my italian is only semi-good-o + blackmask

# | |

got a phone call this morning at six am. if you knew how ridiculously little money i make to save the world you would be flabbergasted.

there was a time when i would have to go out of my way to get flabbergasted. i would actually seek out ways to get flabbergasted.

i would do what i needed to do and then i would look around and if i could say that i was flabbergasted i wasnt flabbergasted enough.

you only truly know youre flabbergasted after the factergasted.

this morning im in an ornery mood thanks to the cell phone being dialed at six am.

this is me ornery.

grrrrr.

one reason that they like me flying chopper one is that im a fairly even keeled mother.

this is me happy.

hi.

this is me mad.

hi.

this is me flabbergasted.

uh, wtf, fellas.

last week you might remember that there was a young lady who had me flabbergasted with her lunacy and she came over and i was pissed off and i wasnt ever going to speak to her again. ever.

she came over to the house and i was at the boiling point of anger and this is how i was:

hi, may i get you a cold soda?

no thank you.

beer?

no.

gatorade?

is that orange soda, may i have one of those?

its good to have even keeled people piloting billion dollar black copters with armed forces spy planes trying to check your shit and enemy forces trying to gun you down, and the bloods with surface to air missles aiming at your ass, and the mob, and the irs, and the feds, and the kids, and the migrating geese, and the paparazzi, and the stank hos trying to say you're their baby's daddy.

it's good to have someone who has been accused by ashley as having no heart no soul no emotions and robotic in the center of the hurricane during hurricane season.

especially when its always hurricane season.

but at some point i do need my sleep.

and occasionally its nice to get paid for answering the phone at six am and solving the worlds problems before six thirty.

and if you dont see me working for the xbi soon, you can say you heard it here first.

just like you heard it here first that the santa monica farmers market old man hit a benz before he hit the people.

and just like you heard that the Coulter Klassic lived up to its name.

# | |

i knew i wasnt gonna get any writing done today. phone kept ringing. too many loose ends left loosed. sunday should really be a day to just rest but i have a big photo essay dealie to give the world even though very few people told me they liked the last one.

got linked a bunch last week though. and several people told me i was their hero.

your hero hasnt gotten any in way too long.

and im not talking ten bucks of flowage either.

even though i probably should.

rickey hit another homer today. i sat around and watched two episodes of the sopranos. and got caught up on the real world, and project greenlight.

i want to watch strangers on a train but im telling you i have this great photo thingie to bust and theres a great story there which i need to unfurl cuz someone will give away the great surprise.

my true love came over yesterday and there are very few people who get my heart beating any time they are around and i couldnt even look at her when she asked me if i liked her new haircut and dye.

its supposed to make my eyes look bluer.

and i knocked her over onto the couch and hugged her and we held each other and she smelled of parliments which is on the hipster bingo as were my old school pumas which were

strewn

on the floor next to my digital camera for my blogging which is o-4 i think

and here i felt so old but now i see im secretly hip.

then why doesnt splink ever write me?

and why isnt the associated press and the santa monica police reading the busblog?

in todays article, they are saying that they are investigating whether or not the old man hit a mercedes on his way to the farmers market.

i told you the day after it happened my homeboy os saw the old coot smash the mercedes.

investigation over.

lock his ass up.

i told you that os thought he was watching a hit and run until the first guy was sent flying into the sky.

meanwhile all the pundits are writing about whether olde people should have licenses or not. how about whether the cops should still have guns and badges after letting a hit and run artist run out of their prison cell because he was old.

every damn day i write this blog to serve mankind.

and there i was serving santa monica, my first california home, and santa monica has turned its back on me.

im going to lie down.

and watch hitchcock.

on the day of rest.

riley dog + wired anjel + tina

# | |

my kids will probably get drafted straight outta high school. but they aint going.

nike will want them to be human billboards, but they wont be shilling for any damn nike.

there will probably be a time when they will want to vote republican before they turn 35, or try heroin, or drink and drive, but im not gonna let em.

and if i find out that they did, i'll burn down their house. maybe steal their car. maybe erase them outta the will. or talk shit about them on the busblog.

im sure i'll have handsome boys and once they turn pro they'll jet off to colorado for some secret arthiscopic surgery and they'll meet a pretty young girl who'll want to ease their minds right before going under the knife, and my boys might even want to induldge.

but they wont go through with it.

and if they do they will first have the young woman sign a release.

and after they have signed the release they will call my childrens' lawyer who will put the young lady on the phone and she will tell the lawyer that she wants to get with my offspring.

and the lawyer will record all of this

and ask the woman if she wants to do this act, that act, that act, that act, and that act.

and then the woman will either accept or decline

and then the lawyer will have the woman provide a drivers license number and social security number and the laywer will do a quick background check and then call back my progeny and either give the green light or the red light.

none of this will be made aware to me because i believe unlike those who wrote and passed the patriot act, i believe in the right of privacy and at the chocolate center of that right is the attorney-client privelge, which i whole heartedly respect.

none of my children will be allowed to marry before they turn 26.

you barely know shit at thirty.

who you kidding.

since my kids will be brilliant they'll say

then how could hemingway bust with the sun also rises at 21, how could pete townshend drop tommy at 21, and if magic hadnt come out early he wouldnta won his first ring playing every position at 21.

and id say if you roll with a tommy, a sun also fuckin rises, and play center your rookie year in the finals and win it for the lakers, then yes you can get married when you want.

but realize kids, hem ended up a drunk his whole life which ended with a bullet in the head, pete townshend ended up getting caught looking at kiddie porn, and magic fucked around and got more than a triple double.

so fuck you, stay in school, wake up your lawyer when youre about to get some strange, and dont even get me started about the nike sweatshop and how they want to brand you like cattle so they can sell the most expensive sneakers that were made from the lowest paying sweatshops.

dresarii + rob wanska + leah + popie

# | |