tsar plays tonight, it's a semi secret show so only tell your closest friends.

but here's the catch. its a super early bird special time.

apparently theres a certain record exec that wants to look the boys over before he hands them a wheelbarrow full of moola, and you know these characters, they go to bed early even though theyre in the rock and roll business, so when you go to the Dragonfly tonight, get there by 8:30 and definately not after 9pm or you'll miss the best band in america as they play mostly new tunes.

It's 21 and over unless you're from Boston and you're accompanied by your mom.

The Dragonfly is conveniently located at 6510 Santa Monica Blvd. in Hollywood.

On an entirely unrelated note, since no one bought it and since i got a bunch of emails about it, I have put Wizzy the wisdom tooth back on the auction block. Bid away DNA collectors and tooth lovers, and those looking for Lisa Lopes morgue photos in vivid color detail.

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bring your own lampshade, somewhere theres a party. amoeba records held a sweet party of sorts, last night at 7pm, and the guest of honor was a half hour late. paul westerberg arrived fashionably late, took the stage. and when he did, he tripped and fell right on his pretty face.

and nothing had changed and all was good in the world.

amoeba was packed for the free show to launch the new westerberg double album released by Santa Monica indy label Vagrant. so packed that they had a line of people outside the cavernous record store allowing people to enter only if people left.

westerberg played an hour of material spanning his entire career from the painfully direct "unsatisfied" on 12 string acoustic, to some of his newest tunes on electric. the crowd shouted out requests and westerberg fired back self-effacing retorts.

"she's applauding every time i hit the right chord. thank you."

afterwards, those who chose to wait over an hour to have their cds signed and take pictures with the former Replacements front man, were treated to a very generous treat. westerberg took his time with each and every fan, taking pictures, and personally autographing whatever they placed in front of him.

i happened to have my super secret hand-written journal on me since i came to the record store right after work and i said, "would you mind signing my diary so i can put above it, 'today i met Paul Westerberg'?" and he said, "well, what's your name?"

and i said my name and he wrote:

Today I met Tony.

Paul Westerberg

and then i went outside and screamed like a girl.

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ATLANTA (AP) - Lisa "Left Eye" Lopes of the top selling female trio TLC was killed in a car crash in Honduras, her record company said early Friday.

Lopes, 31, was in Honduras for a vacation, Arista Records' senior vice president of publicity Laura Swanson told The Associated Press. Lopes was reportedly among seven people in the car Thursday night and the only fatality.

"No words can possibly express the sorrow and sadness I feel for this most devastating loss," said Arista president L.A. Reid, who helped shape the career of the popular Atlanta-based R&B group.

"Lisa was not only a gifted and talented musical inspiration, but more importantly, she was like a daughter to me. My thoughts and prayers are with Lisa's family and friends. Her legacy will be remembered forever."

The location of the car crash was not immediately determined.

TLC, which also includes Tionne "T-Boz" Watkins and Rozonda "Chilli" Thomas, were the Grammy-winning group behind such hits as "Waterfall," "No Scrubs" and "Unpretty." Their latest album was "FanMail."

"We had all grown up together and were as close as a family," the surviving bandmates said in a statement Friday. "Today we have truly lost our sister."

TLC had recently been in the studio working on a new record � due to have been released this summer. Lopes had tried to release her own album last year called "Supernova" but the project was shelved.

In 1994, Lopes pleaded guilty to arson in a fire that destroyed the mansion of Altlanta Falcons receiver Andre Rison, her boyfriend. Lopes was sentenced to a halfway house and five years probation, plus a $10,000 fine.

Lopes admitted she started the fire after an argument with Rison. The mansion was valued at more than $1 million. The two said last year they planned to marry.

TLC sold millions of records since its first album debuted in 1992. But with success came turmoil. The trio declared bankruptcy a few years ago, citing poorly structured recording contracts.

Watkins was hospitalized several times, suffering from sickle cell anemia, a serious blood disease, and infighting among group members also was reported.

But in an interview with the AP in 2000, Watkins dismissed talk of a serious rift.

"With three women, you agree to disagree. I'm not always going to agree with Lisa and she's not always going to agree with me, that's fine," she said.

Within in past few months, Lopes reportedly signed a solo deal with Suge Knight's Death Row label to put out a solo project under the pseudonym, "N.I.N.A." (New Identity Not Applicable). She also helped start the group "Blaque," an R&B trio who had the hit "Bring It Home To Me."

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i liked paul westerberg and the replacements because they were - and are - totally awkward midwest genius hampered by insecutiries raw power sentiment booze drugs and genius.

they were punk when punk was dying.

they were metal without the lipstick.

they were the Strokes and the White Stripes long long long before those bands even learned their first Tom Petty chords.

they were a band that would be playing the most amazing cover song you ever heard and stop a quarter way through because they were bored, or they didnt know any more of it, or they were thirsty for another drink, or because they got pissed at each other, or because they were leaving the audience wanting more.

there is so much more that i wanted from the replacements and paul westerberg and on his new record, "stereo" we get a little more of what we loved in quite little tunes like "swinging party," "androgynous," and "achin to be."

westerberg is back. it's been a long long long time since ive gotten excited over one of his new records, but im excited about this one. so much so that i barely listen to it because i dont want to ruin it.

live, however, is a whole different story. im sure paul will bring the magic and excitement back to the stage like he did so many times even with below-average material like he had in the last years of the greatest rock band to come from minnesota - all du respect to the others.

if you are just discovering this fine musician, may i suggest starting off with "Tim" then heading over to "Let it Be" and then "Pleased To Meet Me." and if you really love the Strokes, you will adore "Hootenanny," lord knows the Strokes do.

and definately pick up his new cd "Stereo" that comes with a bonus cd of material from Grandpaboy, the rock music he made while going through his much publicized dark middle period.

rock and roll has some amazing stories to tell in its cold, heartless habit of creating stars and disposing of them. if i were to pick one person to write and sing those tales it would be paul westerberg and his see-through guitar.

this just in: Rivers Cuomo's lust-interest, the only girl that i know who went to Prince's garage sale when she covered pop music in the twin cities, yes, the chick who actually named the White Stripes the band of the year last year well before the hoopla, wrote in to add this to the PW love fiesta, her pal, and Paul's pal, Jim Walsh, was given an exclusive interview which can be read here.

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im no fan of politics, i realize it's a dance, a game, a form of poetry, etc., but ultimately it seems to me that it's way more about rich people staying rich or getting richer at the expense of the poor and the enviornment, but i guess that's why they call me a liberal.

regardless, i like this picture because i've been emailing Saudi Crown Prince Abdullah for years to have him take a nice, kind picture and the other day he emailed me back saying that he was enjoying his visit to America and wondered if this photo was up to my standards.

yes, my friend, it is.

and i read Layne and Welch and Little Green Footballs all the time, and I know that the Prince isnt the most respected and loved by lots of those in the know, and I know that most of the Sept. 11 hijackers are Saudi, but i still like this picture. to me pictures say a million words.

if i were ever to start another website i would call it Rock Illustrated, and to the suprise of most, it would only have a few pictures of the boys and girls from my favorite genre of music, and it would have included this one.

pardon me, im still spacey as hell from the thundering pains that i experienced yesterday in my quest for pearly whites. im still slightly traumatised. so freaked that i wasnt able to put up a reasonable tribute to either of my two musical heroes Elvis Costello or Paul Westerberg.

if i had all the time in the world i would have had a great little photo essay on Westerberg today ending with this tidbit of info for all of you who reside in and around the city of angels: The former Replacements frontman will be playing tonight for free at 7pm at Ameoba Records in Hollywood.

Which should give us all enough time to run back to our homes and watch the Lakers dominate.

By the way, regardless of who ends up running Richard Riordan's paper, they should definately call it The Daily Dick. They could have Dick of the Day, they could have Dick of the Week, Dick of the Month.

Very much in the spirit of Hustler's "Asshole of the Month," so i've been told.

My nomination for today's Dick of the Day: the bitch ass morons who commute on my beloved Metro who, while riding the escalator, do not follow the only rule of escalating-- pass on the left, ride on the right. TELL ME NO ONE EVER TAUGHT YOU THAT!

dicks.

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i can die a satisfied man. ive been linked by ESPN page 2. (scroll down to the picture of Anna)

i dont know who Eric Neel is. i dont know how he knows about me. but he does. he knows that im a "photo-essayist", he knows that i live in LA, and he knows that Anna Kournikova and I have imaginary conversations.

all i know is i got a flood of hits and for that i thank you, Mr. Neel. if we're ever at the same bar together i owe you a round or two, because i would say that outside of being linked from my small circle of friends theres only a handful of sites that i would feel as honored being mentioned upon like ESPN page two - home of some of the finest columnists in the world, including that of Dr. Hunter S. Thompson, who knows a thing or two about talking to oneself in print.

today i felt so terrible from complications of dentistry and then i come into work late and i discover this - sheesh, i havent had this much pleasure and pain in one sitting since the time when -- well, it's been a long time, lets leave it at that.

anyone who knows me knows i dont do this for the money or the attention, but for the chicks.

and the next time that an interesting young lady looks at my business card and tosses it aside and says, "so?" i can say, "espn page two, girlfriend."

and she will be mine all mine.

God Bless you Eric, and pick up Paul Westerberg's new solo record, it's way better than Bob Mould's.

and for more Anna K. love click here.

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this morning went to the dentist so that they could give a look-see at what used to be my wisdom tooth. all was fine.

they told me that they had a cancelation and they could whiten my teeth professionally for a ridiculously low price (much lower than the $575 they normally charge). uncle sam gave me a few bucks back in disguise as a tax refund so i went for it.

if theres one thing that i want you to know from me this month it's this:

professional teeth whitening, even from the greatest dentist in the world like my dentist, can hurt like a mother fucker.

how bad does it hurt, still? remember the line that marilyn manson sang, "i don't have enough middle fingers."

fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckity fuck.

this is superagent feelsnopain telling you: fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!

the bleach can leak into your gums. the bleach opens the pores in your teeth. your teeth have pores. the bleach opens it. if you have any sensitive teeth the bleach takes switchblades out and finds the most sensitive areas and wacks at it.

i went through my list of blessings a hundred times.

i reeled off every handjob, blowjob, lapdance, promotion, raise, friendly smile, love letter, lust letter, random hookups with short skirted nymphos ditching their junor college french classes.

i even dug into memories of last month.

right now id rather listen to rosie o'donnell sing every barbara streisand song, in alphabetical order, through a megaphone directly into my ear than go through what im dealing with now. that's how bad this is.

if the grim reaper knocked on my office door, i would cry tears of joy, i would bend down at his feet and kiss them and stretch out my neck on my oak desk so his sycthe would have a good target and i know i spelled that wrong but i dont give a shit. im dying.

and the dentist says that tonight the pain may intensify.

and, now i love my dentist, but when i said, is there anything i can do about this pain? he gave me a tube of toothpaste and said, "use this."

beloved drugs of the world, i call upon thee.

find me.

find me before its too late.

find me.

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when i was being trained to be a superhero they got us in the practice of counting our blessings, and that habit has stuck with me like many of the tenants that i took to heart.

in listing the good things about life, an agent was less likely to act emotionally or recklessly or without care for life or limb. it will help center you, ground you, and help you remember who and why you are protecting whatever it is that we consider valuable.

and it will help get your mind off the toothpicks being jammed under your fingernails if youre being tortured by a trio of young punks who got lucky in koreatown.

im grateful for going to college in santa barbara where we had Red Rocks to escape to up in the mountains, home of the swimming holes that weren't much to look at during the drought where for an entire year there was no rain, but now it looks to be coming back.

im grateful for my friends who just might have convinced the former mayor to put his life savings into their hands and turn vengence into art - and, if i have anything to do with it - vice versa. mwahahahaha.

im grateful for my good looks and thick fingers, my rich uncle's diet which caused him cancer thus bequething to me so many bags of cash that the brinks truck got a flat on the way over. oh wait, that's someone else.

i'm grateful to live in an age of broadband where for $50 a month, i can turn on my computer and download pictures of naked broads and hot bands.

im grateful that JC gave me a buck last night for my Snoop DeVille.

im grateful that the Cubs still play at Wrigley and that my mother and sister still live an hour away from the friendly confines, because if they lived any closer, i might not live here in Hollywood.

im grateful for the close personal relationships that defy traditional definitions that i am lucky to share with some of the finest young women in Los Angeles.

im grateful for my health, my wealth, and my ability to type in the dark to you.

and im really grateful that m finally has a blog.

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look around, around, the second drummer drowned the mailbag is full of haircut questions, so i'll tell you the little story.

probably just like the place where you work, the xbi has its share of security gaurds. especially after september. just like the rest of us, the guards are undercover. if you walked past our heaquarters you'd just think that a row of old men were waiting for their doctor, but no, they are retired g men with itchy and arthritic trigger fingers dying to bust a cap in your ass.

ive always said that im an old man in a young man's body, so whenever i can i ask the fellas things like where i should get my hair cut. there was a minor disagreement, but eventually there was consensus on a barbershop near la brea.

i went in on friday after work. even though the neighborhood is mixed, there was only black faces in the barbershop. all the chairs were filled and soon after i sat down on the comfy couch, the couch was filled with awaiting men of all ages flipping through industry magazines.

within a few minutes it was my turn, i put down my Black Entertainer and shook hands with my barber. from a snapshot he'd taped to his mirror, i saw that he had once had a much bigger afro than I was sporting, and now he was clean shaven. i became nervous.

i sat down and asked for a trim.

the joke is if you ask for a trim the barber will cut off most of your hair.

its a bad joke.

and it's true.

my man pulled out a pair of shears that were at least 18 inches long. i know this because when i used to lay wire through the walls to bug an office or a bedroom, i used an 18 inch drill bit. after a few minutes most of my 'fro was on the ground.

the whole time there was great music blasting from the boombox propped in a rocking chair. it was that nu-soul: jazz mixed with hip hop with lyrics that mattered not. my man brought out the buzz cutters to add shape.

when it was all done i paid my $20, tipped $5 and went on my way.

in the morning i woke and showered and resigned myself to the results and was mildly disappointed.

now i see there are rough edges here and there, small mounds of hair that wont push down on this side, and valleys on that side. theres too much hair on top, etc.

what i really need now, ironically, is a trim.

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in the last 6 hours this is the most emailed photograph via Yahoo.

is it that people are making fun of the fact that Cheerios tried to make their patches seem as conspicious as humanly possible? almost like they decided during the last round of the tournament to sponsor whoever was in first place.

im just jealous. i would love a corporate sponsor for the bus blog.

Cadillac? HP? Microsoft?

even though i dont believe in their practices of sweat shops, selling $125 shoes to children, and the billboardization of our culture, i would take a cool million from Nike if they wanted stoke a brotha.

i'd rather be sponsored by someone who i believed in though. Old Style beer. Vans. Directv, Southwest Airlines, Audiogalaxy, Shasta. 99 cent stores.

Visine.

If i had to play women's golf and get sponsored by a cereal, i would prefer to wear the patch of Cap'N Crunch or Fruity Pebbles.

The latter would be protested by my fans, though, I would imagine.

Either that or they'd eat it up.

i'm here all week.

Let's Go Kings.

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i dont know whether to feel good or bad that my super disgusting recently pulled wisdom tooth has no bidders with only a few hours left in the auction. it's a gross proposition.

the only thing grosser than someone who wants to buy my tooth, would have to be someone who would want to swap wisdom teeth, i would imagine. brothers David and John proposed just that, which i respectfully turned down.

John flowed the Snoop Fund a buck, as did Hiram, my old pal from the dot com days. i have very few rules about donating to the Snoop fund, but one of them is, if youre my friend, as in ive been to your house, we've broken bread, you've been to my house, you've set me up with your sister, you've bailed me out of jail, i've removed a bullet from your tailbone, we've stolen hubcaps together, etc. you can't donate to my car fund. it's too weird.

otherwise, give till it hurts.

i did get a haircut on friday. for some reason i didnt think that it would be well accepted in the black community, but this morning a jay-walking security gaurd said, "g'mornin', brotha." so thats a good start.

it's short. its barely an afro. it's a mini 'fro. a m'fo?

since we're getting personal, ive been saving my nickles and dimes and i found a nice housekeeper who's going to tidy my bachelor pad once a week. the hilarity is set to ensue.

in closing, may i say that although i havent published an opinoin about the Dick Riordan-led new LA Times newspaper that may or may not be run by Ken and Matt, i will say these two things: if you want to kick serious ass in journalism and you want to start something that others will call a newspaper, there are no two more qualified musical youth than the dynamic duo who pulled it off with one hand tied behind their backs in Prauge back in the day.

and secondly, the era of people asking to be called Dick seems to have ended, sadly.

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me and chris went to the movies today at the Grove next to Farmer's Market. we saw Blade II. it was her second time seeing it. fucking awesome. totally violent, sick, nasty, excellent. perfect music. wesley snipes is perfect in it. whoever the director is is a damn genius. makes it look easy.

afterwards we ate at the farmers market. she had the shrimp louis, i had the shrimp boat. the place was packed. this teenage couple propped themsleves against a post and held each other and pretty much just made out. a dad was there with his two elementary school children and he said approvingly, "im just going to watch you two kiss." the young couple giggled and looked the other way, but didnt move. after a few minutes they went back to looking in each others eyes and mackin. chris and i ate our entire meal, including her getting up and going over to the crepe place, getting a cup of coffee, finishing it, etc. and when we left they were still making out.

saturday night, what else are you going to do?

heard this young white girl by a payphone tell this black kid, "i could call my mom and have her pick me up, or you could drive me home." needless to say, they left immediately without picking up the phone.

when we got home we pay-per-viewed "greenfingers," a british indy about a group of prisoners who become gardeners. really good. funny. believable. great music: springsteen, sting, elton john.

today was 4/20 and all i have to say is, im not that old, and ive seen the berlin wall fall, ive seen the end of communism, ive seen a guy steal the presidency, i saw the raiders get fucked in the playoffs.

when i was a kid we had 9 tv stations to choose from. i saw calculators - simple calculators - get introduced to the world at $175, simple walkmans going for $200.

at my first job i got $3.35/hr - i thought i was the biggest stud when i got a new job that was going to pay me $4 an hour.

ive seen a lot change fast.

marijuana will be legal in my lifetime.

idiocy doesnt last forever.

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