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

nothing in here is true

 


   Saturday, July 27, 2002  
took ashley to see austin powers. drove down sunset through west hollywood turned left at rodeo drive and then right on santa monica to century city.

some ass changed the name of the century city mall to westfield mall.

westfield mall?

the dot com that i worked at had its start in century city right there on avenue of the stars. we would eat lunch in the swanky outdoor mall every afternoon. that was in the summer of '98. an eternity ago, to me.

it's 840pm and two of the showings are sold out. somehow they create a 930pm show and we buy tickets and hang out in the bretannos where chris got drew barrymore's autograph for ashley. she also got one for me.

ashley (not pictured) gets very excited when she realizes that drew was in the same place that she is at. very excited.

get popcorn, two large sodas and a bag of sour gummi bears. $15. back in 98 a week before i got the job at the dot com i had a date with a girl where i invited her to my house to drink the only coke that was in our fridge. $15 would have lasted me a week.

spill some of the popcorn at the door while trying to show the 36 year old usher my stub, he yells, tania! tania! i say, dont worry about it. he says, you dont want a new popcorn? no. no thanks.

as i get older i start falling asleep easier. eating, drinking, smoking, snacking, and holding ashleys hand in the theatre with a pleasant movie on made me very very drowsy. in a good way. "austin powers in goldmember" is a good solid movie. totally fun. very funny. sexy. predictable. a touch offensive. and head and shoulders better than 98% of what you can see at the movies nowadays.

mike myers is in top form. beyonce isnt bad, and mini me steals the show, again.

we take the ten home, stopping off at mcdonalds for an oreo mcflurry.

we get into the house.

turn on the slow jams.

turn off the kitchen light.

being outsexxed this saturday: by dawn and her pal shell
 
anna kournikova played some of the best tennis of her life friday but still fell to #2 ranked Venus Williams friday night in the bank of the west classic in stanford, california.

the fiesty blonde twenty year old from moscow broke williams several times but could not master the nasty 117 mph serve from her competitor from compton and was defeated 6-3, 6-4.

she did, however win her quarter-finals doubles match and advances to the semi's.

"i give all the credit to the loyal following of tonypierce and his bus blog," kournikova was reported to have never said. "tony is a stud and i want to get on him in the worst way."

because she lost, she has to remove some of her clothes, reports reported.

but because she won her doubles match she doesnt have to get nude, insiders say.

and thus sex saturday began.

 
five years ago matt and emmanuelle got married. tons of people were there. it was in the middle of france in a summer vacation town called joncy. white cows walked right down the middle of the street speaking french.

first me and chris flew into amsterdam and decompressed there for a few days. everyone says that traveling to europe in the summer is so expensive and uncomfortable and crowded and terrible but in the middle of july all the dutch take their vacations and head to greece or the south of france or anaheim so my favorite european town was nearly empty and strange. it was raining a little too.

didn't matter. if anything it made it better. even though our marriott had a pizza hut underneath it, it wasn't what id consider amsterdamian, so i dont recommend it.

after a few days we took a train to my second favorite european town, paris. paris was cool. by the time we got there though the only restaurant open was one of those chic ones where you eat on the outside in front of the restaurant judging people who walk on the sidewalk. i think all they had left was lobster and shrimp and tasty wine and strawberries and chocolat mousee. after a romantic stroll free of parisians who were also in greece, we retreated to our filthy room with charming view and agreed that even the dirtiest of streets of paris are still much more magical than the best streets of the mission of frisco where we were living at the time, happily.

only scary part about paris was the fact that no one knew where joncy was.

it may have had to something to do with my special brand of french.

eventually we got on the tgv - the french bullet train. once again we found ourselves free of any bothersome europeans. and you may ask yourself, "why is tony so upset about our cousins to the east?"

i'll tell you why, because as long as americans have been coming to europe we have been asking for cold cokes. if europeans wanted spit on their waffles, after a while we would just know to include spit on your waffles when you came over here.

give us cold cokes!

so we drank wine.

me and chris were drinking wine everywhere we went even on the train to mont pilleir or whatever the town was that dougie gyro and barney picked us up at, but we were pretty drunk when we showed up and we met up with our friends and tick tock it dont stop.

we were driven to grandma's house, emmanuelle's grandma. everyone has castles in this town. the white cows demanded it. grandma's castle was pretty nice, but her barn was the best so we all slept there. it was hot in joncy and the windows were open and people were playing guitars and singing songs. all of my friends play and sing except me. i drink and smoke and fall asleep. aaaaahhhhh.

in the morning we walked into town. first we crammed into the mayor's office. emmanuelle's dad is the mayor. everyone was smiling and talking french and then the mayor said some things in english and pat whalen was the best man and he was laughing so i kept laughing.

then we all walked down the main street of joncy a beautiful parade. matt had on this crazy yellow jacket looking like buddy hollys cousin in law some guy was playing a violin, layne was playing the guitar. people were singing.

made it to the church and that was entirely in french and way better than most services that ive been to.

probably cuz it wasn't full of lies.

after church we went to the pre reception drink off at a nearby school. only a few of us knew it was a drink off so i placed pretty high.

piled into cars and drove out of joncy to where the mayor lives. his castle was the best one. three stories, big, yet homey. in the backyard were several big tents where we would eat and drink and dance into the wee hours.

the camps were equally divided between emmanuelles euro friends and matts dirty american pals. the girls were beautiful intellects on both sides but the menfolk from matts side were decidedly scruffy and crude, like moi, especially with the neverending barrels of wine that grew from the trees of the countryside of west joncy.

layne kissed matts teenage sister. a fight broke out. it was settled with a highly entertaining breakdance battle. ken had to kiss matt. then everyone kissed everyone. then dougie gyro hijacked the wheels of steel and we danced til the dawns early light.

rode cows to grandmas castle barn, hit the hay, and have yet to wake from that beautiful dream.

tabloid: was there

   Friday, July 26, 2002  
guest blogger: tony's blog

hi, im tony's blog. thanks for checking me out.

one of the benefits to BloggerPro, which is used on this site, is that it has folders for Future posts and for Drafts.

unlike Mozart, tony writes down notes, and organizes them and gets everything together before he lays the smack down. but because he's kind of a ditzy freak, sometimes he forgets what he put in here and then on a whim deletes everything.

like examining the contents of a young boy's pockets, i thought you all might be interested in seeing what he has stored away in the Drafts folder of this blog.

voici:

emo band name: Courtesy Flush

dear sir,
this blog is not a whorehouse. if it were somebody would be getting paid. the best thing in the world is when you can get hot chicks to write about sex. dont blow it for the rest of us.

short interview with a Bud can:
hi.
whazzzzup.

blog experiment
dont update untill three real comments are left to previous post, or $20 gets paypaled.

songs i cant get out of my head:
"hot in herre" by nelly, "beyond belief" by elvis costello and "holiday" by weezer

Weezer
Weezer (1994)
Holiday

Lets go away for a while,
You and I, to a strange and distant land,
Where they speak no word of truth,
But we don't understand anyway.

Holiday.
Far away, to stay.
On a Holiday.
Far away. Lets go today, in a heartbeat!
Heartbeat! Heartbeat!

Don't bother to pack your bags, or your map.
You won't need them where we're going.
We're going where the wind is blowing,
Not knowing where we're going to stay.

Holiday.
Far away, to stay.
On a Holiday.
Far away. Lets go today, in a heartbeat!
Heartbeat! Heartbeat!
Heartbeat! Heartbeat!

{quietly}
We will write a post card to our friends and family in free verse.
We will write a post card to our friends and family in free verse.
{Background Mumble: In the word with carrol at, jot her in his pilgrim land
and this road will never die...}
We will write a post card to our friends and family in free verse.

Lets go away for a while,
You and I, to a strange and distant land,
Where they speak no word of truth,
But we don't understand anyway.

Holiday.
Far away, to stay.
On a Holiday.
Far away, to stay.
On a Holi!

{Lets go away/Far away}
{Lets go away/to stay}
{Lets go away/On a holi...}
{Lets go away/Day, far away}
{Lets go away/to stay.}
In a heartbeat!

i dont think she really likes to blog, and should just fess up: rabbit
 
Dearest Ashley,

Okay, I don't really care what's true or a lie. It's all true in my mind, and that is the only reality that matters.

I am in lust with Jennifer Jason Leigh. So, what is the truth on how I can meet her and seduce her into being my love slave?

She'll thank you for hooking us up. You'll thank me for getting you to hook us up.

Tony won't thank me, but I'm cool with that.

All my love,
wKen

Dear wKen,

You have awesome taste dude. And no I'm not just saying that because I've been known to be a JJL lookalike. She just rocks.

Here's what I did to meet Jennifer. I found out when there was going to be a four-day film tribute to her in Hollywood that she was to be attending. I went. We met. And twice at that. She was awesome.

If I was a lesbian, maybe I would've tried to seduce her. But I'm not.

If you do get to meet up with Her Radness, I would suggest not being too aggresive. She's really shy + that could freak her out. Just play it cool.

Tell her you liked her dog Otis in "The Anniversay Party." Her dogs are important to her, so that will get you brownie points.

Good luck!


Ashley,

I've got a question for you.

As a gal how long does it take you to decide if and when you will sleep with a perspective suitor?

I know there all sorts of factors that play into this,
but i am only looking for abll-park figure here. Minutes after meeting? Hours? after the first kiss? Weeks?

thanks
Nunya,
http://mrknowitall.blogspot.com

Dear Nunya [loved the midget story by the way],

Well, I have found that I am somewhat of a weirdo. My tastes + behaviors don't seem to fall in synch with those of other girls my age.

But here's my take on the whole thing. It's a lot easier for me to start with knowing if I'm even going to kiss this person. That usually is determined immediately after meeting them if they're cute with a good personality. If they're not so cute, but have a good personality, give it a couple hours.

As far as doing the deed, I am never 100% sure if it's going to happen until it actually is. There have been people I've decided I would with, + then never ended up going through with it.

So if you've got someone you're persisting [+ hopefully for wKen, it's not the lovely Jennifer Jason Leigh], get beyond the first kiss + then just see. Make sure the oppurtunity is there b/c if she's considering sleeping with you, she needs a shot at it. That will increase the possibility of it happening by like 94%.

Good Luck to you too!


Are you really glitter-dipped, or is it radioactive glow from all the nuclear bomb tests of the 1950's?

Steven A. Adams

Hi Steven!

Well, seeing as I was born in 1982, I have to say that I am just naturally this sparkley + it is not a result of any testing that occured in the 50s. My parents weren't even alive then actually.

Thanks for asking!

* * * * * * * * *

If you have other pressing questions about me, drew, jjl, tony, no doubt or francesca lia block, feel free to click my picture above and write me.

also, if youre too shy for all of that and you just want to buy me something from my wishlist, i guess that will be okay too, and tony doesnt get jealous at all.

Daisy Kisses,
Ashley*
 
guest blogger: anna kournikova

tony says he's back, but he's not, his wrists are still a little sore. he did a ken griffey and returned too early but its all good in the hood because im your favorite commie tennis star anna k, saving the day, sippin on grape shasta, and my voice sounds sweet cause it hasta.

tony hardly ever lets me speak for myself, which i was used to behind the iron curtain but i thought that things would be different in america, but i guess i was wrong. all the men here try to make me watch my mouth which is why ive dated so few americans.

currently, its true, im dating enrique eglasias. not because i want to, really, i mean, he's cute and all, but mostly because i want to be tony's girlfriend but he's obviously got so many planes in his landing pattern that theres hardly any room for those of us who are circling the airspace and im running low on fuel and enrique, how shall we say, fills me up. sorta.

but tony is my true love. hes the only one i really love. i wear the outfits that i do for him. i pout because he likes it. i wear my hair long because he loves long hair. i tell him i love him but he has such low self esteem it hardly ever gets through to him, so when i do have some time off and i find myself in Hell-A i wear a tshirt that my mom made for me.

its a little belly shirt with a red heart on the front that says, "my name is anna" and on the back theres another red heart that says "and i love tony".

i made that cuz he likes to twirl me around to let it all soak in.

when i stay with tony at his apartment it's great because he never wants to go out. i love just lazing around his house flipping through the tv channels ordering thai and chinese and pizza and all the things that i cant really get my hands on in dusseldorf and sydney and mexico city. we kiss. A LOT. hes a great kisser. i read in "Jane" the other month that one way to find out if a guy is a great kisser is to watch him eat. if he's a messy eater then he's good in bed. ooops i have them all confused. ok, i don't know how to tell if a guy's a good kisser other than to kiss him.

tony's a really slow eater. guess what that means. ;)

but the best thing i like about going to tony's house is watching movies with him. he's got such great taste in movies i cant even believe it. sometimes we'll just wake up, make love, i'll cook some breakfast, he'll check his email and then we'll just watch one movie after another. he's bound to fall asleep but i don't mind telling him what he missed. he's almost like a heroin addict the way he passes out all the time, but i have my little special way of rousing him from his zzzz's.

i also like to change clothes while he naps and fix my hair different and not tell him. his memory's so bad that sometimes he doesn't even notice.

god i love to mess with that kid's head.

ok, well, gotta go. im doing pretty good in my tennis. not that you care.

yesterday i beat Wynne Prakusya in the second round of the Bank of the West Classic 7-5, 6-4 in Stanford, California. it's so beautiful here.

this is the second match in a row that ive won which is pretty good for me cuz i admit, ive pretty much sucked lately.

today is gonna be pretty busy for me, which is why im procrastinating this morning. tonight at 7:30pm i have to go against Venus Williams (ugh) in the singles quarter finals. and then right after i have to go play doubles.

who the hell schedules this shit?

anyhow, love ya. thanks for always thinking of me.

tony, hope you feel better soon.

happy anniversary: kitty bukkake
 
guest blogger: Dawn Olsen
Truth, Lies and Digitalcams

First there was�.

Dawn: Wow, I..can�t..believe..I..am..talking..to..Warren Zevon!!
WarrenZevon: What was your name again?
Dawn: Dawn. Do you have a blog? I bet it would be so cool if you did.
WarrenZevon: A what? Hey could you, um, give me a little more personal space please.
Dawn: Sure, sorry about that. Wow, I..can�t..believe..I..am..talking..to..Warren Zevon!!
WarrenZevon: What was your name again?
Dawn: Uh, Dawn?

And of course�.

Dawn: Matt�Welch. Wow, I..can�t..believe..I..am..talking..to..Matt Welch!!
Matt: Um, yes you are. How are you doing?
Dawn: Really great. You are just as cute in person.
Matt: Um, thanks? And you too. (looking around feverishly for Emmanuelle)
Dawn: Matt�Welch. Wow, I..can�t..believe..I..am..talking..to..Matt Welch!!
Matt: Hey, it�s great meeting you too. I think I see Doc Searles, talk to you later.
Dawn: Ok, bye Matt.

Sadly�.

Dawn: Tony Pierce. Wow, I..can�t..believe..I..am..standing..next..to..Tony Pierce!!
Tony: Hi Dawn. It�s really nice to meet you.
Dawn: [gawks obnoxiously]
Tony: I really enjoy yours and Eric�s blog.
Dawn: [still gawking]
Tony: Okay, I am going to go and talk to some girls now. Great meeting you.
Dawn: [still gawking] can�t�speak�too�stunned.

Then another�.

Dawn: So you are Nigel Dick. What do you do?
Nigel: Oh, just some video stuff, probably nothing you have heard of.
Dawn: Try me?
Nigel: I don�t really like to talk about work.
Dawn: Come on, please, just a hint. Anything on MTV?
Nigel: Maybe. Oh, looks like the pizza is here. Boy am I hungry. Nice talking to you.
Dawn: Bye Nigel.

Can�t forget�.
Dawn: So Os, do you have a blog too?
Os: Nope, just hosting and technical stuff.
Dawn: Wow.. you host and know technical stuff. YOU ARE SO COOL.
Os: Sure. If you say so.
Dawn: So why don�t you have a blog? I bet it would be SO COOL.
Os: Just not interested.
Dawn: You really need to get a blog, it would be so COOL. I will blog about you and everything.
Os. Um, maybe. I have to use the restroom, nice chatting with you.
Dawn: Oh.My.Gawd. I..Can�t..Believe..I..Talked..To..Os!


As you might expect�.

Madison: So you are Dawn Olsen of Up Yours. I love the name of your site. I have always thought that was a really funny name, you know, if you are having a bad day you can just say �Up Yours.
Dawn: [staring and thinking, �um she is really pretty and I saw Eric staring at her and he was checking out her butt.�]
Madison: [some other witty and funny stuff, being polite and nice]
Dawn: [more internal dialogue, �This girl is really smart, Eric said so. What�s his fucking problem? Always the pretty, blonde, skinny ones. I feel kind of drunk and wobbly. Is that pizza over there?]
Madison: Well it was nice chatting with you. Love that site name.
Dawn: You too, I�ll check yours out. [and keep a freaking eye on you girly]

Somewhere between drunk and loaded�.

Dawn: So who the hell are you [slurring words and touching people a little too much]
Martin: Martin Devon
Dawn: And�.?
Martin: PatioPundit
Dawn: Oh, yeah, I know who you are. You are that Patio guy. I like your blog.
Martin: I like yours too, irreverent humor.
Dawn: [did he just say I was irrelevant or something? Where did I leave that glass of wine]
Martin: Nice to meet you, keep up the good work.
Dawn: [did he just say I was a jerk?]

Lastly�

Eric: So Dawn, are you having a good time? I can�t believe all the great bloggers in one room. This is just so much fun.
Dawn: [sighs heavily] Ken Layne�s not here.
Eric: Yeah, that kind of sucks. Oh well, all these other great people are here.
Dawn: I know it�s great, they are all so nice. But Ken�s not here. I wonder why?
Eric: Maybe he was busy. Don�t worry about it. We�ll meet him some day.
Dawn: I don�t think Ken likes me.
Eric: Probably. [looking around] Hey, um, my drinks empty, talk to you later.
Dawn: Okay bye Eric
Dawn: Wow..I..can�t..believe..I..just..talked..to..Eric Olsen.

thinking: kate sullivan should write every day

   Thursday, July 25, 2002  
i have the weirdest life. right now theres a girl barely out of her teens snoozing away in my bedroom. im sitting here at the xbi garage waiting for my flying car to get whatever it is thats causing this horrific grinding sound, and on my handheld i get a message from meesh that she wrote me last night telling me that her story is done, that she has accepted my assignment to write about her so-called life and has agreed to put a little hot sauce into the salsa by inviting fiction's fancy friend Erotica.

so here's the first part of a very very very long and detailed peice by our pal from the central coast.

be sure to come back after youve taken your cold shower and leave me a comment or two of gratitude.

guest blogger: meesh

It was a long, hot summer day, the kind of day where you are almost grateful you are in an air-conditioned office building.

It was Tuesday, but might as well have been Monday, and Monday might as well have been New Years Day, I was in such a daze from partying and breaking up with my no good, musician boyfriend for the last time that weekend.

I was sticky and tired, but my snapdragon was on fire from the heat and lack of stimulation.

I could feel it throbbing beneath my jeans and kept fidgeting in my big leather office chair so that I wasn't pushing on it.

I needed a good workout and a good scrub. My hair was dirty and I was in dire need of a facial.

I stopped at home to change into my workout clothes and thought about who I could call for a fuck.

(continued here...)

   Wednesday, July 24, 2002  
guest blogger: mr. know it all

Tony,

Sorry to hear about your carpe diem. that sucks, it's time to "hire" an intern. OK, so i wrote this for my own blog, but can put it on hold until i hear back from you for a bachelor party.

"Two words boys and Girls -Midget Stripper"

Do you know how hard it is to find a midget stripper? Let me tell - it's harder than you think. Yeah we've all seen the movies and that MTV special about "little people" but how many midgets do you know personally? Now of those midgets how many do you think would be willing to take off their clothes for a bunch of guys at a bachelor party? Yeah - those odds are bad.

Even in a town like LA, you would think it would be easy, but apparently there is only one working midget in town (and she wasn't calling us back). I scoured the Internet and found a guy who specializes in "dwarf talent" based out of Ohio, which is a little out of our way. I talked to a guy in NYC who told me that if I were to find one, it would cost a pretty penny.

A little more searching and I stumbled across a chick who posted a request on some midget porn message board searching for the same thing a couple of months ago. I emailed her and we talked. She told me the lengths she went through to line up a midget, but she was never able to hook one up. I'm not about to give up on this shit! This is one of the best bachelor party ideas I have ever had (you know because that's my day job - bachelor party idea guy). That, and said bachelor is a little frightened, although intrigued, by midgets.

I dug out the phone book. You know those old yellow things people used before the Internet. I started calling all the escort and stripper services. None of them had a fuckin midget or knew of one for that matter. A couple of the "escort service people" (isn't that the same thing as a pimp?) were helpful enough to point me to a couple of leads, but others acted like I had just insulted them. Give me a fuckin break - if I were looking for a full-grown stripper you wouldn't be giving me attitude.

Finally I was put in touch with a casting agent that deals with "little people". I told her what I was looking for and she said "she couldn't help me". I asked if I was talking to the right person, because I was told that person specialized in midgets. She said "I do - I have 30 little people that I work with, but none of them would be willing to do that kind of work." Ok, lady I haven't seen a casting call for a new Charlie and the fuckin Chocolate Factory movie- don't you think you should run this by some of your "actors". God knows there are enough out of work "actors" in this town who would probably be down to shed their clothes for a couple hund�. Another dead end.

Finally SHE called back. The one working midget stripper in LA. I talked to her she said she'd be willing to do it for $450. Jigga what!?

I asked her if I could pay by the pound? (Not a funny joke to little people) Fuck it, I figured we'd talk about price later. She sounded like she was "on the nod" and I was happy just to be in touch with an actual midget stripper (who's also a porn "star").

So after a little wheeling and dealing we worked out a deal for her and her full-sized stripper friend to come to our little soir�e. Every time I have talked to her it sounds like she is on smack, so I'm hoping she shows. I guess for the kind of money we're shellin out, she'll be there with bells on.

Tune-in on Monday for a full midget update. Same bat station, same bat channel.

I may even have a pic or two.

Nunya D. Bizness
http://mrknowitall.blogspot.com

loving: that ashley is here. and she will be guest editing for the rest of the week including "sexy saturday" where this blog will feature sexiness too hot for the working week and promptly take it down before sundown on sunday. whats that ashley? oh, lets just let her speak for herself.

hey everybody! If you're anything like me, you get frusterated with Tony's "lies", "fantasies", + "make believe stories". Wanna know what's really up? Email me by clicking my picture with any questions you have [about me, Tony, Drew, The Brady Bunch, No Doubt, Buffy, Incubus, Matthew Lillard, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Las Vegas, whatever] + I guarantee you 100% honest answers. Be sure to let me know if you want your name signed after your question! Daisy Kisses, ASH*
 
whoa nelly, i never thought that i'd get so much email

thank you good people for your nice comments and emails. i even got a basket of fruit at my desk today from the interns in the mail room.

so many emails, so many questions, which i will answer here.

why so much nudity on your site?

to piss you off.

did the doctor give you any drugs for your carpal tunnel?

just aspirin and some pills so that the aspirin wont hurt my tummy. but if you snort em and chase em with beers you see stars for a few seconds.

did you get any while you were out?

no, and im disappointed. everyone knows that flowers cheers up the soul.

how much of your blog is real?

all of it.

did you really meet meesh? she didn't mention meeting you.

no, i made that up. shes far too cool to hang out with me.

was there really a big glass table of coke and meesh kissing two girls while you watched? why didn't you join in?

yes there was, yes they were. i didn't join in because i wasn't invited. plus i think they did it so that i would watch.

what's millie jackson like?

shes like, as simone said, lil kim if she was a better singer from the '70s. i Highly recommend it. especially as the night is speeding past you and the hot babes are making awesome conversations.

do you eat cereal? if so which ones?

i like the specialty cereals. like the Simpson's cereals. like Homer's Donuts... im also eating the Star Wars cereal and the new Cap'n Crunch chocolate weirdo cereal. i love them all.

when will baseball go on strike?

they will go on strike 9/15 which is ok for fantasy baseball. but lousy for real baseball. it sucks. i hope they all had stock in WorldCom, i hope they all slip in the shower. i hope they all get carpal tunnel. i hope they get dissed by hot girls in jean skirts who slam the back door after telling them to fuck off. i hope they get the runs and have no tp.

did you see moxie's nudie picture?

yes. i think she looked hot. i cant wait for the next one.

what new cds came out yesterday so that i can buy them from you and stoke you?

nothing really good came out unless you love Boyz II Men. maybe you should just paypal me $20 if you feel like going nuts.
 
happy birthday
to you

happy birthday
to you
happy birthday
dear j.lo
happy birthday
to you.
 
guest blogger: tony pierce

hi everyone. im back. my thanks to all the guest bloggers. finally went to the doctor yesterday about my carpal tunnel.

mr. pierce.

mr. doctor.

what seems to be the problem?

i think i have carpal tunnel.

where does it hurt?

my fingers are tingly, my arms are numb. like they're asleep. the bones feel like they have arthritis. i want to crack my knuckles. electric zaps go through my arms like in Tron.

does it hurt when you do this?

yes, but i don't do that.

when did these pains start?

about 2-3 weeks ago.

did you experience a lot of stress 2-3 weeks ago?

some.

is that when you changed the masthead of your blog to those scary crows from that van gogh painting?

you read my blog?

you're the best blog around.

wow.

tony, the body and the mind are linked. the one influences the other. what you have is not carpal tunnel it's what i like to call "tired hands" you write and type but you're not saying anything. you're a writer and a good one, so your anxiety will either manifest through writer's block or "tired hands."

but i don't have writer's block.

that's why you have tired hands.

so do i need a few days off? maybe hit the beach?

no. you need to look at what areas of your life are causing you stress and you need to get rid of it. let me take your blood pressure.

but i don't really have much stress.

sure you do, get rid of it. your blood pressure though is amazing. you may be the most mellow person ive ever met.

i told you.

do you take alcohol?

a have some rum when i write.

drugs?

never.

keep drinking, and you might want to take a toke of the wacky tobaccy once a day before dinner.

can you prescribe that?

no, that proposition got over turned.

why do we even vote any more if they're just going to overturn what we vote?

no more stress, tony. practice.

ok. sorry.

you might even start doing some yoga.

yoga's for girls.

women live longer than men.

no, they are old for longer. if a man dies at 75 and a woman dies at 85, those 10 years are not the ones i will be envious of. 10 years of pissing in a diaper? no thanks.

still, yoga will help you.

why are you squeezing my boobs?

men get breast cancer, im checking. relax.

well you're the most interesting hand doctor ive ever met.

and im serious, i want you to relax. quit chasing the girls so much. find sweet ones who wont fight with you, who'll be nice. think about air sign girls.

when can i write again?

does writing stress you out?

no, i laugh like crazy when i write. it's insane. i also sweat.

i want you to write as soon as you get home. write all the time. but don't just sit there at the computer. write and laugh. laughter's the best medicine. write about anna more often. then get up and walk around. you may even want to walk outside.

so smoke pot, drink, do yoga, and write.

do you watch porn?

not really.

watch porn three times a week. make yourself happy. work at it.

this is crazy, i must be losing my mind.

no, you're losing your anxiety. life is meant to be a happy waltz. not a slam dance. when was the last time you had great sex?

not long ago.

what made it great?

it was wild, perfect, it lasted a long time. we were on the same page. it was wonderful.

was it loving?

not really.

make love next time.

yikes.

don't be afraid to. be willing to. you're a double libra on the scorpio cusp. you're full of love. love. you're a terrible fighter.

love?

love.

wow.

now put on this wrist brace so you wont forget our talk.

loving: that welch is back
 
Hello, guest blogger Steven A. Adams filling in for the debilitated Tony Pierce.

There is a big controversy concerning cam girls who only show their cams to a select few.

Actually, I�m just ticked that no one will show me her cam; there really is no controversy. In my search for the best cam girl story in the world of cam girl stories, I decided to visit the trailer park of the cam girl world: Yahoo Chat, West Virginia.

Trailer park cam girls, just like their counterparts in the real world, are not afraid to be exhibitionists. Muumuus, tube tops, and 1980s hairstyles top the list of fashion statements made by these trailblazers. But none of us, not even Tony Pierce, can understand the minds of these high-tech rednecks.

To let us into the secrets of a trailer trash cam girl, we talked to Supa_sexy_bi_22_swf, 22, of Upper Arlington, Ohio.

Woohaa2k1: Hi, I'm a reporter with tonypierce.com, can I ask a couple of questions

Supa_sexy_bi_22_swf: what?

Woohaa2k1: I'm doing a special report on cam girls; do you consider yourself one?

Supa_sexy_bi_22_swf: no not really, y

Woohaa2k1: well, because the little icon next to your name shows a TV

Supa_sexy_bi_22_swf: ok so it does

Woohaa2k1: so you're an amateur cam girl

Supa_sexy_bi_22_swf: whatever you wanna call it. What do you want to know?

Woohaa2k1: well, first: do you get any enjoyment from giving away your right to privacy?

Supa_sexy_bi_22_swf: I am an exhibitionist. If I wanted privacy id click ignore.

Woohaa2k1: well, that's good. How do you pick who gets to see the good stuff? Is it an eeny-meeny-miny-moe sort of thing?

Supa_sexy_bi_22_swf: nope. I have friends that I talk to all the time. They get the good stuff, no one else. If I don�t want someone watchin my cam. I kick 'em out

Woohaa2k1: Well, where's the exhibition if only your friends get to see, they already know you?

Supa_sexy_bi_22_swf: I get new friends all the time. I have hundreds of thousands of friends, people I talk to if you will.

Woohaa2k1: How doe one get so many admirers?

Supa_sexy_bi_22_swf: well. You gotta look good. for one. and I aint a dog and you gotta play well with others... and I'm bi. so that covers that and you have to be friendly

Woohaa2k1: gee, sounds like you've got all bases covered and you hit a homerun

Supa_sexy_bi_22_swf: naaa. Sometimes I mess up and get a really bad looser in there. I weed out the ones I don�t want watchin me

Supa_sexy_bi_22_swf: u like me don�t ya.

Woohaa2k1: At this point in my single life I like anyone, so let's not drag me into this. I'm just an objective reporter.

Woohaa2k1: do you get a power rush from being able to choose who watches and who doesn't?

Supa_sexy_bi_22_swf: I�m a dominatrix by nature. Got a big show tonight, so I got to go get some rest.

Woohaa2k1: show? what do you do?

Supa_sexy_bi_22_swf: gonna get my pussy ate by my b/f on cam. Just joking

Woohaa2k1: good, because this is a family website I'm writing for (not really)

Supa_sexy_bi_22_swf: lmao

Supa_sexy_bi_22_swf: I was joking when I said that bout my b/f

Woohaa2k1: I know, I can read. I didn�t become a writer by pointing at pictures; I�m not dense.

Supa_sexy_bi_22_swf: For the most part I sit here and make faces at the cam and suck on suckers. ya know.

Woohaa2k1: I understand, I like suckers as much as the next person

Supa_sexy_bi_22_swf: hehehe

Woohaa2k1: have you discovered how many licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie roll pop?

Supa_sexy_bi_22_swf: well the owl says three. but I beg to differ. It took me 568 licks without biting. lmao

Woohaa2k1: That's why most owls are endangered species; they�re stupid

Supa_sexy_bi_22_swf: and they bite. lol

Supa_sexy_bi_22_swf: I don�t bite I nibble. hehehehe

Supa_sexy_bi_22_swf: I gotta go hon.. I work at night. gotta rest now

Supa_sexy_bi_22_swf: bi bi

Woohaa2k1: I get it

Supa_sexy_bi_22_swf: do you

Woohaa2k1: yes you bisexual

Supa_sexy_bi_22_swf: bi bi now cya later

Woohaa2k1: bye

Armed with this type of information, even the fattest, horniest, bald-headed, nacho-eating 45-year-old can get his lustful passions fuel by a fine and foxy trailer trash cam girl. This is tonypierce.com guest correspondent Steven A. Adams saying good masturbating.

Steven Adams is a sports writer and columnist for the Parkersburg News and Sentinel, whose blog can be found at http://theunsilentmajority.tripod.com.

   Tuesday, July 23, 2002  
guest blogger: Sonny I. LaVista

coulter drops me off after bowling with os and the gang and drinking modelo from cans at the auto bar. i have the best friends in the world.

walk to my flat and who do i see sitting nicely on my porch with an open can of tuna feeding Losty? rosalita.

unlock the door and she follows me in. the cat wants to follow us both but keeps working on the tuna. perfect. i shut the door and turn on the lights.

rosalita has a new game that she likes to play with me. its called, "is this cheating?" perhaps tony has told you about her, shes a beautiful girl. all the girls in LA are beautiful, but rosalita and i have this sort of magnetism that is indescribable.

i guess its describable. we want to rip each others clothes off every time we're around each other.

not only do we want to rip each other's clothes off, but i want to rip off my own clothes.

she and i both have significant others. hers is semi-famous, mine is a stewardess. neither are around much. so sometimes its nice to be tempted as all hell.

so rosalita looks around my place. she hasn't been there in a while. she has those low rider jeans on. shes a puerto rican from nyc and knows how to work it. i love it. but what i love the most is shes an exhibitionist and loves to hear me talk dirty.

me, i love talking dirty and i love that it seems like no matter what i say to her she smiles. she loves to be looked at. she loves to be sensual. i know her boyfriend, i like him. the last thing i want to do is do him wrong. but damn, dude, your chick is on fire.

i ask her if its cheating if i hold her hand. she says yes. i say is it cheating if i check her out, she says, check me out all you want, and proceeds to spin around a little and clack her heels around my hardwood pretending to be interested in the books way up on the top shelf.

i ask her if its cheating if i get real close behind her like this. she doesn't say anything. i see her close her eyes and smile. i smell her neck. soap. i say can i drag my fingernails down your back? she says mmmmmm. i say is it cheating? she says, mmmmmmmm.

i have to get out of my clothes and into my jammies. its late. ive been drinking. she says no. no undressing. i say, can i take a little toke off my bong? she says no, i want you right here with me.

im dying people. this girls lowriders are killing me. her bellybutton keeps eyeing me. she and i have never done it before but weve done the dirtiest things youve ever seen two people do and not touch. im suprised tony hasn't told you, fucker cant keep a secret to save his life.

she sees some extra strength tylenol on my floor that i dropped. she says, do you keep these things on the floor so that the girls have to pick them up?

i say, no, they're there cuz im a slob.

she says, let me ask you again, do you keep these things on the floor so that...

and she bends at the hip keeping the legs straight, keeps the feet planted, knees locked and just lowers her back making the ass the pivot point and nabs the tylenol and raises back up stripperlike. rosalita claims to have never stripped, but that move brings up serious doubts.

we retreat to the attic where i have my computer. i want to see if tony ran my guest blogger column. he didn't. ass. not even a "thank you. try this instead." just nothing.

rosalita goes to tony's links page and clicks some of the links and starts reading kitty bukkake. she says she loves bukkake. i say pardon me, she says, "omg, shes so funny."

i say, oh i thought you meant you like the act.

she says, what act.

i say, the porn genre, bukkake.

she says whats that?

i say it's porn. she says, show me.

lucky for her i have lots of porn on my computer. we go through a bunch that says its bukkake but its not. this is where i made my big mistake. somehow looking at this smut with her doesn't turn me on, its just fun to watch it with a super hot babe. but her, it turns her on like crazy.

we never even get to the real bukkake and she heads to the ladder to climb down back to the first floor and i say, where are you going? she says, if i watch any more, then i will cheat.

and i hear her clomp through the house, open the door, and shut it.

i check my messages, hottest chick i know called apparently right as i was leaving to bowl. damnit.

and once again, im alone, drunk, horny, sitting in front of a computer full of smut.

stoked: that a.beam is back
 
guest blogger: paul f.

Funny, i just got off the phone with my friend Tiger. Thought you might want to do some cutting-and-pasting.

Sorry that I'm not writing about lesbian sex, bukkake, or hanging out in Philly. And you really don't want to see me wearing a plaid catholic girl skirt.

A conversation with Tiger Woods:

Yo, Tiger!

Word.

How's it hanging?

Could be better. I kinda blew it on Saturday, huh?

Man, everyone shoots 81. I wish I could shoot 81 on the front nine.

I think the last time I shot 81, I was, what, 8? Ah, hell, who cares? Life is good.

You're telling me, brother. You just played some of the worst golf of your life and you still walked away with thirty-eight grand. Not bad for four days.

You think I shouldn't cash the check?

Heck no! It's what you do. Funny, though. How much is GM paying you to push their Buicks?

Can't tell you that, Paulie.

Don't call me that, Eldrick.

Touche. Tell you what -- every time they run one of those ads, I get a check.

You got The Man working for you.

'Xactly.

And you got a blonde Swedish swimsuit model waiting at home.

Chicks dig the long ball, what can I say?

You know, I think that some people might be saying that you don't think a sista's good enough for you.

That's bull.

Whadda mean?

I mean, come on. Do you see anyone bustin' Derek Jeter's chops because he goes out with white girls?

Derek's goin' out with half the female population of Manhattan. And he was dating Mariah for a while.

Maybe that's what pushed her over the edge.

Maybe. But anyway, it's not like people think that D-man's the great black hope.

Man, people keep forgetting that I'm half-asian, too.

Well, it's not like you're reminding them.

Should I?

Can't answer that question for you. But you're not exactly going out of your way to be progressive.

Nature of the game, man. You think that I should get people riled up because some stupid journalist has a bone to pick?

You could stick your neck out a little. People listen to you, ya know.

They do?

Yeah, they do.

They shouldn't.

Why?

I wear red polo shirts and I can whack a little little white ball three-hundred yards. It's what I do for a living. I play a game. I'm the best in the world at it. And people think that I should be Martin Luther King, Jr. because of this?

Hey, someone's got to say something.

You know, the old saying? Hand, dog, biting? Is being the greatest golfer ever not enough? Is being the first black man--

--there you go with the black thing again--

--OK, first black/asian man to win a major, let alone all four of them, not enough? Maybe I'm not Jackie Robinson, but I got the hate mail, the death threats, all that, too.

So what you're saying--

--is that hey, cut me a little slack. So what if I'm not organizing the sit-ins. I'm here, and I ain't going anywhere. And I'm doing more, just being here, than anyone could be out there banging on the drums.

Well, still, it wouldn't hurt you to express an opinion every now and then. Come one, look what you did to your pal Casey.

Oh man, you're bustin' me for that?

The guy was your roommate, for freaks' sake.

Look, walking in an important part of the game.

Uh-huh. And the Laker Girls were the reason the Lakers three-peated. Hey, all you had to say was one word and Finchem would have folded like a pair of deuces staring at straight up.

Maybe. But remember that hand-dog-bite thing.

You are the PGA, Tiger. You own them. Without you, they're just a bunch of flabby white guys waving a stick at a little white ball.

Not gonna totally deny that. But hey -- I'm not beating anyone up.

True.

I ain't doing the thug thing. You want your kids too look up at someone? They gonna look at the Answer, who's looking at hard time? Or they gonna look at me, a guy who drives a Buick, smiles a lot, is nice to the kids?

Well, I'd rather they look at you.

Exactly. Hey, I gotta go. Elin says dinner is ready.

The girl can cook, too?

Oh yeah. And she cooks with gas.

Swedish food?

Don't knock it 'til you've tried it.

In my dreams, Tiger. Peace to you. Hey once more thing -- it's a red shirt? It's always looked more maroon-ish to me.

Get a new television, man. It's red, trust me on this. Peace to you, too. And send the love to Tony.

Will do.

--
paulf | Some days you're the windshield.
@ | Some days you're the bug.
panix | --------------------------------
.com | <http://www.asterius.com/pf>

   Monday, July 22, 2002  
guest blogger: Miss 677

Good morning class my name is Miss 677 and I�ll be subbing for Mr. Pierce today while he is out recuperating from a nasty case of the carpal tunnel syndrome, one of the last remaining syndromes known to man.

Mr. Pierce and I go back to 1994 when I was 21 and living slash existing on Pine Street in West Philly. Back in tha day when the Internet consisted of some lame chat rooms on AOL, back when I made $6.60 watching TV at Annenberg and getting by on Entenmanns chocolate glazed donuts and pasta.

That shit was a long time ago. Now I make five times as much and a chocolate glazed donut would wreak havoc with my slowing metabolism.

Very good class. I am almost 30. And mad as hell.

First things first � housekeeping items. Yeah, I said housekeeping so now you know I am sitting in an office someplace on the east coast. For the sake of level setting, let�s just hold these truths to be self evident mmmmkay:

For those of you 30 plus, an age not a size: 30 is a big deal. It was too you when it happened to you, so don�t deny it. And just cos yr beyond it doesn�t mean yr above it. It�s scary, whether yr married with kids or single and renting. And for us ladies, we get the extra added bonus of all the biological clock shit commentary slash inquisition (the male equivalent: thinning hair? I don�t know but that shit sucks too).

For those of you basking in your 20s for lo the years to come: Please, player please don�t be getting up in my face telling me its all in my head and that I only feel as old as I think slash act cos I will refer you to my calcium supplements, fine facial lines, random grey hairs, inability to consume more than 3 alcoholic beverages on a school night, the 15 pounds I put on and took off this year and a corporate job of nightmarish proportion that requires me to spew useless nonsensical phrases that demonstrate what a total fucking loser sell out I now am. Are we all singing from the same sheet here? Have we mindshare? Or do I need to net it out for you further?

Class of 1990, we�ve lived through interesting times. Always on the cusp we were: the cold war (we had the fear but didn�t grasp why), HIV and AIDS (we�re all just starting to feel the love then we�re all shrink wrapped and paranoid) the Internet (encyclopedias fed our brains, word processors took it all down), the boom (we were close on this one), and now the bust (oh snap we caught it on the back end). But the thing that did us right: the music.

How lucky was I? Busting in to my older sister�s room so I could listen to Pink Floyd, The Who, Styx, and Genesis records. The lamer part of me spent my weekends trying to tape Pat Benatar and the Go-Gos (cassette player next to radio speaker effort) so I could bring said player and 4 C batteries on the bus and feel like a rock star, shit and groupies and all.

Years later, we�ll call them my late teens, I saw the Ramones, the Sisters of Mercy, Public Enemy, the Dead Milkmen, Jane�s Addiction and countless other now non-existent acts live within a twelve month timeframe. I saw the first Lollapalooza as an idealistic saucy surplus wearing 19 year old and only years later caught Nirvana at the Roseland Ballroom. As a DJ at my college radio station, I was on-air when CNN reported Kurt Cobain�s body had been found. No you didn�t?? It�s true.

677�s apex: When she was 16 and saw the Cure/Love and Rockets/ the Pixies in Toronto. She wept. Eyeliner everywhere. She wept cos she knew she�d never feel that way again. And class, me thinks she was right.

Cos here I sit with my lame marketing job that pays for my Volvo (f you too) and downtown apartment reading stories of corporate baby boomer asshole types ruining it for me and my parents. Trying to understand why the fuck O-town gets a TV show and Lance Bass goes to space when the only fing malternative station in Boston wouldn�t play the Afghan Whigs EVER and now they�re gone too. But Eminem gets steady rotation. And the only music I hear that I like slash know slash can sing along to is on some kitschy bone throwing lunch hour horror show.

30 here I come. I can�t eat what I want without acid reflux or drink as much as I used to without other bad shit, and I think my brain has some damage from bygone weeder days. I watch the news and read the paper and gripe about the kids (useless. pointless.) and the adults (tanks middle aged white guys bunny cos that 20K that I earned coming to this (and other) mind numbing spirit robbing job(s) was really only my chump change). Therapy: I long for gap cord overalls ringer t shirts and royal blue nikes and repeat bullshit mantras about my 30�s having the potential to be the BEST and MOST EXCITING!!!!! decade of my life.

Riiiight. At least I�m genX enough to be all whatever and can stare off into space reminiscing about the time I made it to the stage at a Beastie Boys show and had to get pulled out of the crowd by a beefy security guard. Could have pulled me arms right out of me sockets. Yeah and now they�re all divorced and shit too rocking the mid life crisis at the drop of a hat.

Class I�m certain I�ve failed you miserably. Mr. Pierce should be back tomorrow so show him some love and don�t be talking shit about me out in the hall.
 
guest blogger: kitty bukkake

Tony said in his blog today that he, as a rule, does not meet up with people who contact him from the internet. That's not true. I guess it is if they contact him, but not if he contacts them. Tony and I met last summer, almost a year ago.

He emailed me in response to a diary entry, he said:

there's not that many people, really, who know what bukkake is. and what they really truly want to see, instead, is in your diary. so help em out.

Yeah, well, from time to time, I get a "what, no bukkake?" email, but for the most part, Tony was right.

Is this too meta? A guest blog about blogs?

He asked me to write about something sexy. I could tell you the whole story about how he and I met that very same night we started emailing,
but if Tony hasn't already told it, he probably doesn't want you to know.

So I'll say this: after watching 3/4 of the Sex & the City women expose 5/6 of their tits over the course of half an hour last night, I decided that nudity is waaay too much of a Big Deal in America.

I have been thinking about how much I wish I could hang out at a nude beach for a weekend.

I think about seeing the naked landscape. I want to know if people walk differently when they're publicly nude, and if the men get boners all the time. And whether personal space is different.

I hope so. I'm not nude beach material though, and not for fear of being naked in front of strangers--I used to be a figure model.

I just don't think I could handle the beach experience because

1. I sunburn easily and there's no way I want peeling nipples

2. I'd be afraid of creeps (had a little of that in the art classes too but in the workplace there are rules to protect your naked ass), and most of all

3. I am squeamish as sweet FA, and I'd be so scared of getting bugs crawling in my parts. Never mind sand. I'm talking about sandfleas. Screw that.

No pants on a beach? You get the fleas and crabs (not the disease, the crustacean) and dolphins all fighting over who gets to be up in your warm, wet stuff.

I can't even handle having an ant on my foot, never mind a fucking monster in my crack. So I think that's the biggest deterrent for me.

But that all makes me think: why do it at a beach? And why allow creepy people?

How about a private, casual nude party?

Sure, my college days are finally over but so is most of my false modesty and leftover, post-adolescent insecurity.

I'm thinking nude cocktail party at dusk, no bugs, no animals, no creepy strangers, soft towels and cold drinks for everyone, voila, nude party.

And I'm no hippie either, so don't think it's like that, and no drugs, because I hate drugs, and it's my fake party.

And definitely no "show us your tits, girls gone wild!" mentality, because that's not sexy.

But just having them out there, with everything else out there too, is pretty cool. I think.

Nude party. My house. Someday.

wanna help tony and write something for the blog? write it and send it here.
 
meeting meesh

as a rule i do not meet up with people that contact me from the Internet. even if they're super hot babes.

i like the internet because for the most part you will be judged by your thoughts and your thoughts only.

once someone sees you or hears your voice or watches you eat, they start changing their ideas about you. i don't like that.

in a perfect world you'd only be judged by your ideas and how you express them.

our bodies are simply the cars that our souls ride in.

i know im not my hair, yet as it leaves me, i feel worse about myself, same goes when i had zits as a teen. as humans, it's very hard to think differently.

similarly i want to extend the same courtesy to others, and simply reading their words and looking at their design is plenty for me. but inevitably i see their pictures, or they call me on the phone, and the idealism is shattered and my feelings about them change. rarely for the better.

when i heard that s.e. hinton, author of my favorite novels as a youth, "the outsiders," "that was then, this is now," "tex," and "rumble fish" was a woman and used her initials to disguise her sex, i thought it was brilliant because even as a kid i merely assumed that because the narrator was a young boy, the author then, of course, must be a man. and her little misdirection worked perfectly.

j.d. salinger, my favorite writer when i was in highschool also didn't want his work tarnished, so he asked his publisher to avoid using pictures, illustrations or fancy graphics on the covers of his book. this is why when we think of "Catcher in the Rye" we usually recollect the classic maroon cover with gold lettering, even though the first editions had an illustration which salinger objected to vehemently. as he became more successful, his wishes were allowed to become reality.

when aol first came out and brought irc chat to the mainstream, hundreds of thousands of people were once again simply being judged by their words. i was shocked at how well received i was because i could write decently. i didn't have a picture in my profile, i didn't have any personal information on there. if anyone asked me what i looked like, i borrowed a phrase from mr. kfi and said, "better than some, not as good as others."

i also saw how i was making my inevitable "judgements" of people simply by their points of view and how they wrote them.

if some ass wrote "u r f##ing stoopid" it wouldn't matter to me how cool their car was, or the similar interests that they had to me, or if they were a super hot chick in her thong at miami beach working on her deep dark tropic tan.

blogs have now entered into a similar situation. people like a.beam and (when he was anoynomous) the rallying point are my favorite examples since no one knows who "he" is and "he" is simply judged by his words, as sparse as theve been recently, but we like "him" not because of his pictures or position in society, but because of his thoughts. it's perfect.

so saturday night meesh calls me up. shes in town. we've chatted a little bit before that. exchanged photos because i never expected to ever meet her. exchanged phone numbers. and then she betrayed my trust by calling me and saying she was in town and wanted to meet me at the coolest hollywood hotspot on santa monica blvd.

meesh, my friends, turns out, is one of the top five beautiful women ive ever met in my life. her pictures do her no justice what so ever.

tall, dark, not a blemish on her gorgeous face, lovely, happy, sultry, womanly, slender, exotic, fashionable, girlie, fun.

sitting on her left was a young black woman who works at a huge hollywood agency that represents all the biggest actors, directors, writers, producers. she was awesome and looked hot in her blue velvet bustier. sitting on her right was a super cool blonde who i'd discover was born on my exact birthday, her name is simone.

apparently sweet babes are allowed to stay at bars after the 2am deadline. and because i was surrounded with hotness i got to enjoy the benefits and when the bouncer turned on the lights all that was left at the club were the most amazing chicks and a few lucky fellas. it was like what 49ers hoped for after they sifted through the sand and debris while looking for gold.

nuggets of shiny gorgeousness were everywhere.

the only riff raff was me.

we had one more round and me and meesh jetted over to my house to grab some coronas and a bottle of absolut. we then went over to simone's luxurious apartment right off of wilshire, wonderfully decorated and filled with awesome art, rare oriental carpets, incense, all the things you'd expect from a libra scorpio young woman with taste and enough means to bring it to reality.

the four of us partied till 6am listening to cuban mixes, millie jackson, and rufus wainwright. four air signs, enjoying beauty and peace and love and incredible music. everything was mellow and happy and balanced and nice and free.

yes, i am the luckiest man in the world.

yes, all the ladies seemed to like me, mostly cuz i kept my big mouth shut and let them entertain me with their beautiful stories and fabulous spirits.

but no, i will probably never chat with my pal meesh again, she's way too hot and now im super intimidated.

today: is os's birthday.

   Sunday, July 21, 2002  
I kissed a girl
fiction by Madison Slade

On my last day at work, a bunch of my co-workers informed me that we were going out for a celebratory night of debauchery. Always game for a drinky-poo or two I wasn�t about to become the guest of honor in absentia.

So we end up at this club. We were all dancing when suddenly it was just this girl and me. This is the same girl who was chastised at work for weeks because she informed everyone that she saw a bunch of heesh on her drive from San Diego to San Francisco. Heesh was Jane�s way of indicating that she saw many horses in the same pasture. More than one goose=geese. More than one horse=heesh. It made perfect sense to her.

So she wasn�t the sharpest tack in the box. But she was a lot of fun and the boyz liked her.

The musc is good. The boys were cute and Jane whispers in my ear, �I know how we can get the guys here to REALLY notice us,� and before I know it she�s grinding me. I don�t really care, I�m moving across country in less than a week so I grind her back.

The music gets really loud; in fact I�m sure I have hearing loss from that night in particular. So she whispers in my ear again. It was my bad ear, so I yell into hers, �hang on, let me switch ears, I can�t hear you.� So somewhere after I began turning my head her mouth caught mine. And her tongue winded around my own. I was shocked, excited and intrigued.

We retreated from the dance floor and found a dark corner. I sat on her lap and we felt each other up, and kissed some more. A lot more. It was nice to kiss someone whose lips didn�t cover � of my face. It was delicious to kiss someone who didn�t leave saliva dripping down my chin. And no stubble to give me beard burn.

But it didn�t go any further that night.

Just before I left town she and I and her boyfriend went out. He bought us drinks and kissed me on the dance floor. Incredibly, he was an even better kisser than his girlfriend. After last call we went back to his place and I held Jane while he did his thing to her. �Now you touch her,� he said. So I did.

She was kind of drunk in a silly way and as she lay there she told me how when she was a child her parents had a barnyard full of heesh. �Maybe when you come back west to visit we can go riding.�

When I left that night Jane�s boyfriend kissed me again and said something weird. Jane looked at me and said, �Oh him? Don�t worry about that. He�s just mad because you made me come so fast.�
 
MAN 0F SEAS0NS: Damn Tony...I put a link up to your site and I got nothing....NOTHING!
supertsar7: i have carpel tunnel;
supertsar7: i havent put up a bunch of links yet
MAN 0F SEAS0NS: not my fucking problem put up my link
supertsar7: whats your site?
MAN 0F SEAS0NS: Man0fSeas0ns.Tripod.Com
supertsar7: hwo did you hear about me?
MAN 0F SEAS0NS: through 21Pundit steet
MAN 0F SEAS0NS: I offerred to trade Wisdom teeth with you
supertsar7: oh yeah right
supertsar7: wheres the link?
MAN 0F SEAS0NS: its on the page that has the links
MAN 0F SEAS0NS: i think its the same page with the stores on it
supertsar7: ah, ok
supertsar7: i'll put you up in a few weeks
supertsar7: after i recover
MAN 0F SEAS0NS: fucking westcoast lightweights
supertsar7: ok i wont link you then
supertsar7: feel free to take down my link
MAN 0F SEAS0NS: what the fuck? thats unamerican!
supertsar7: not really
supertsar7: we reserve the right to refuse service
supertsar7: to idiots
supertsar7: very american
MAN 0F SEAS0NS: oh...i see...its cuz Im black!
supertsar7: exactly
MAN 0F SEAS0NS: I guess...i dont respect theives either
supertsar7: blacks are theives?
MAN 0F SEAS0NS: all of them
supertsar7: any last words?
supertsar7: im about to bail
MAN 0F SEAS0NS: nope. hope the tunnel gets taken care of...I liked the no tying in baseball thing
supertsar7: ah, thanks alot
supertsar7: later dude
MAN 0F SEAS0NS: piece
supertsar7: hey, can i put this on my page in the mean time?
MAN 0F SEAS0NS: this
supertsar7: yeah, this chat
supertsar7: its funny
MAN 0F SEAS0NS: go wild
MAN 0F SEAS0NS: its america...you're free to do what you want
supertsar7: cool.
MAN 0F SEAS0NS: see ya