not that many of you come here on the weekends but im going to try to give my hands a wrest this weekend.

if you have been following this blog you'll know that ive been sufferring from a strange form of carpal tunnel that my workers comp doc simply calls "tired hands."

secretly i have also been sufferring from an odd form of blogaholism. its freaky. even when my wrists scream in pain, i just put a bag of ice on them, take a quickie little break and get back to the job.

problem is, i have been assigned to a desk job lately which only compounds the problem because the xbi is a great place to work, but im out of sick days so i have to suck it up and work through the pain.

my wrists are better than they were last week. but my paying gig is about as much as i can handle and i am hoping that if i just unplug the damn home computer and not even be tempted to use it this weekend -- which is harder for me than you think -- then maybe i can come back on monday ready to rock.

i hope your weekend is refreshing.

things i hope to do on a weekend of no computer:

read the bible some
add some decorations to the crib
drink at a dark club with some hotties
read the bible some more.

hasta, babies

# | |

tony, the new tv season is approaching
if you were a network exec in charge of programming
and you wanted to rip off "The Osbourne's"
who would you choose?



paris and nicky hilton
without a doubt.

but the real question is, who would you choose?

# | |

if i even whispered the truth in here you people wouldnt think that i was at all cool. however the way that meesh and moxie insist on quoting me the truth will creep up to bite me in the ass, so i suppose i need to let out a few dirty secrets before they get revealed in less than attractive ways.

lets start today with the top 10 tv shows that i watch regularilly.

1. The Howard Stern Show
2. Big Brother 3
3. American Idol (pictured)
4. The Simpsons
5. Baseball Tonight
6. Soul Train
7. Live with Regis and Kelly
8. Meet the Marks
9. BET Tonight
10. Project Greenlight

but on Sunday I will certainly be watching the Anna Nicole Show.

# | |

hi tony

hi anna.

i won again.

you sound surprised.

i am a little surprised.

get used to winning, you have a heart of a champion.

i do?

something under your shirt is nice, i thought it was your heart.

do you miss me, tony?

terribly.

do you want me?

definitely.

come and get me.

gotta go to the company bbq tonight, anna.

poo on your bbq.

too late, they invited the counting crows, it's already pooed on.

i miss you.

you better.

i cant believe you're only an hour away from me and i cant have you!

comrade, carlsberg is like 3 hours from hollywood, even on a good day.

still, i feel so close to you.

that's just the vodka talking.

don't you want to hear about my match?

not really.

come on, i won 1-6 6-2 6-1 over Conchita Martinez!

the spaniard?

yup.

what happened in the first set.

i did like you told me to, i rope-a-doped her.

how did you do that?

i made her run around in the hot sun. i let her win the hard points but on the easy ones i made it more of a game than i needed to.

like how?

i could have slammed a point home, instead i hit it in a place where she could return it. we volleyed. A LOT. and i just stayed on the baseline and made her work for it. by the second set she was exhausted and i kicked her ass in that one and in the third.

anna!

just like you said.

so how will you repay me?

oh, you'll see.

give me a hint.

when you get home tonight there will be a package on your doorstep.

what will be in the package?

some things that im sure you'll like. including some pictures of me in some outfits that i will wear when i see you next.

you're the best anna.

no, you're the best tony.

yeah. i know.

waiting: for the perfect pill

# | |

if you read this page a lot, which a surprising amount of you do, you will notice that i don't talk about the weather much.

i talk to my mom every weekend. karisa talks to her mom every day! maybe i would talk to my mom more if she didn't always revert to talking about the weather.

when i hear the conversation drift to meteorology it's the equivalent of someone yawning and saying, "an-nee-waaaay," i'd much rather they do as rene often does and just say, "love ya babe, bye," and hang up.

there are a few exceptions to this rule. jillian barberie can talk about the weather any damn time she wants.

you might know her from fox sunday football where they have figured out a way to get her to talk about the weather in the cities that will host football games later that day.

it's really just a scamola to get her on tv in front of a bunch of horny male viewers so that they can see her prance in front of a weather map in the latest of todays sluttier fashions, but you don't see me complaining.

in fact if i inadvertently got sidetracked with CBS's pregame and miss jillian's little dance, that's when you hear me curse that i don't have Tivo.

Jillian is also on "Good Day LA" my new favorite morning show that comes on right before Regis & Kelly as well as "Good Day Live" that comes on right after Regis & Kelly.

there she sit on a chair that has pillows on it so that you can see her belly even though shes sitting behind the table.

i like that.

she is there to talk about the weather but they usually give her other things to read off the teleprompter and she convinces people to take in stray dogs as well.

i think that's nice.

the other person who can talk about the weather any time she wants is ben's little sister kate who writes her ass off each and every time she scootches up to the keyboard.

spending the summer in minnesota, birthplace of bob dylan, today kate takes time out of covering rock music and devotes some space to mother nature, which is indeed different and more interesting in the midwest than it is in this climate controlled oasis of hollywood.

enjoy the gangbang of thunderstorms while you can, dear kate.

and don't forget to catch some fireflies on your midnight romps barefoot through your daddy's lush backyard.

i hereby promise to go to more than one Clippers game next season

# | |

this camera comes out in a month

it can take over 4,000 pictures using just two AA batteries retail price: $420


equally nice is the fact that these sites linked me recently:

mon petit chou
fowlka files
santamaradona
a nation turns its back and gags
dvlsgulch
unbillablehours
fat nathan's fat head

# | |

naomi cant keep her mouth shut and it's starting to piss me off.

these freaking supermodels have been summer subletting the apartment upstairs from my hot neighbor, who it turns out is a modeling agent and apartment swapped with the ageless beauty this summer. normally i like to keep my drapes open in my bedroom because i have a very temperamental plant that my pal ann ferris got me back when i lived in frisco with layne and hilldale and hickey and hornberger and it was the first plant that i managed not to kill.

so sometimes, when im changing someone will walk past the window and i don't think anything of it, but i guess i was re-reading "dot con" the other evening and naomi got a glance and my girl got on larry king the other night and starts telling all my secrets!

i swear to you, america, im just an average man.

and size doesn't matter anyway, ask half the girls who wont do me any more.

in the last few days ive been playing a "what if" game with one of my co-workers during lunch. libras love this game, ask meesh. the other day my coworker, who is also a libra, asked me "what if, like in that tom hanks movie 'cast away,' you had a wife who took a trip and ended up in a plane crash. she doesn't return for years and everyone thinks shes dead. you have a funeral for her and then remarry.

years later she gets rescued from the island and comes to find you happily remarried. what do you do? do you break up with your new wife or do you tell your old wife that you're now in love - like they did in the film - and continue with the new wife?"

i said i would have to keep both of them.

she said, come on, be serious.

i said, i am serious, and any woman who would know me enough to marry them would know that i am serious. my old wife shouldn't be punished for being in a plane crash. why should she be without her husband? and the new wife shouldn't have her husband ripped away from her. and biblically you can have more than one wife, so this seems to be the perfect solution.

so yesterday my co-worker asks me, "would you do anna nicole smith?"

to which i replied that i was in college when anna nicole made her Playboy debut. most people don't remember that she wasn't even nude in her Playboy debut. from what i could figure they discovered her and she was so hot that they said, fuckit, we don't have enough time to get a whole photo spread put together, but we can certainly get one great picture and throw it on the cover.

which is what they did, and she was one of the sexiest cover shots that ive ever seen them do and i fell in lust immediately.

personally i love anna nicole. i love how she seems stoned all the time, i love how sexy she is. i love how she looks sexy no matter what her body looks like. i love her white trash sensibilities and her absolute honesty. i love that when she had money she leased marilyn monroe's former hollywood hills house and filled it with marilyn memorabilia and locked herself up in it.

i loved how she went on howard stern yesterday morning and said that she hasn't had sex since her former husband expired and that she masturbates all the time. i love how she said that shes basically a nympho who would give it to her next boyfriend ten times a day and would probably kill him too.

but, i told my coworker, i could not have sex with her because before she married the billionaire texas oilman senior citizen, she had been previously married to another man and then divorced. and the Good Book is very clear that its not cool to mess around with divorced women.

my coworker, who is totally catholic said, "no way."

i said, yeah, which is why i don't return mariah's calls and now, j.lo's.

my coworker, who goes to church every sunday, said, thats the silliest thing ive ever heard.

and then the batphone rang so we hopped into our car and flew off down wilshire.

kevin has flowed a buck into the snoop dogg fund four days in a row. surely someone wants to join him in this race. surely.

today: is our annual xbi summer barbeque and im gonna finally talk to this hot chick who has been smiling at me for months. wish me luck!

# | |

# | |

sonny has been over a lot since i cant use the computer after work, sorta sucks but what can i do?

today he said, dude, did you see bro steppin to your girl like you aint even standing there?

english, sonny, speak english to me.

meesh has it on her site, nunya business has it on his site...

meesh isn't my girl!

she should be.

she lives all the way up in oxnard!

an hour. fuck, for that shit, i'd walk.

no offense sonny, but if you did walk from here to oxnard you'd walk past about 5,000 other hot chicks who wouldn't have you either.

maybe not me, but she'd have you.

impossible.

omg, tony, look what is posted on her site right now. it's you spewing the most unbelievable stupid shit and her eating it up. its nearly disgusting.

not as disgusting as moxie and jim treacher.

don't change the subject.

this is a stupid subject.

what on earth has invaded my best friend tony pierce?

go home.

because whatever is in the skin of my buddy just said that talking about hot chicks is a stupid subject.

go get some beers or something, order a pizza.

don't you like asian chicks any more?

shut up.

don't you like tall girls with long hair any more?

say one more thing, sonny and im going to smack you.

got something against marketing directors at a computer company?

come here so i can smack you.

and shes a libra! your gay ass air sign requirement is filled.

stand still, im going to throw this shot glass at your eye.

some guy is going to pop in simply red and swoop on the hottest chick you ever met and you're not going to do shit. i cant believe this.

shes in the top three. i never said number one.

you used to be my hero, tony pierce.

i wish you had told me back then, i woulda kicked your ass.

if its the turtleneck thing. i will buy you a fucking turtleneck if that's what's holding you back.

great, now all i need is a mercedes sedan.

moxie will loan you her porsche.

think so?

no. but maybe people will start flowing you bucks for your snoop de ville.

kevin holtsberry has flowed me a buck for three days straight.

# | |

i love it when people leave notes for ashley that say im no good and i shouldn't be trusted.

i love it because then i know that im not the dumbest person alive. they are.

how on earth are you going to give advice on a relationship about two people you've never even met?

and why would you?

what if me and ashley would have ended up being super close friends for the rest of our lives, but both decided not to because some loser housewife in the woods somewhere didnt "get" who im all about and told ashley to "be careful" and she took that as to "not trust" and the entire relationship stumbles and falls?

ive been hanging out with me for 108 years, lady, and i don't get me either, but i do know the numbers and the numbers say that if you are in a romantic relationship with me for even six months you have a 95% chance of being my very good friend for ever.

theres a lot that i "don't get" in life.

i don't get why half of these girls like me, but they do. i don't get why theres nobody like me, but there isn't. i don't get why people write and write and nothing good ever comes out of them, i don't get why pot's not legal, i don't get why drinking is, i don't get why kroq finds it necessary to shove good music so far up our ass that its not good anymore.

on paper, a guy with a loser job, no money, no car, no future, and no aspirations other than running a major league baseball team should be getting absolutely no play from the ladies.

and on paper, ma'am, im sure that your laundry list is even worse.

which is why, thankfully, life isnt played out theoretically in the mind of the creator, it's improvised on this great stage. where even an old loser like me and and older loser like you can actually have interesting people hop on top of us and wake the neighbors.

so step off.

i don't understand a lot, lady, but i don't go to the person who's squeezing your ass and whisper in his ear, "be careful with that one," because it would be worthless. that guy knows whose ass he's squeezing, and ashley of all people on this planet right now, knows about as much about modern day tony pierce dot com than anyone and she may come across as fairy princess with her blonde locks in the clouds but thats just her little game. nobody's putting anything over our daisy princess, especially me, the one who has tried to kick her out of this relationship a zillion times.

do i date girls? yes.

am i honest about everything i do?

no.

am i honest about everything i do when i talk to ashley?

definitely.

i can look you in the eye and have you ask me any question there is. you can smell my fingers or dna my bedsheets. i trust you, whoever you are, that you have ten times the skeletons in your closet than i ever will have because the only closets i have hold my computer or my clothes and i expose myself in both of them because secrets are for cowards whose motto is "be careful in love."

the only thing ashley needs to be careful about is limiting her possibilities. if she wants to come up to hollywood and catch a movie and hold hands and goof off and see the stars, i am totally up for that. if she is doing it to avoid the scary world of dating pimply faced co-eds of UC Irvine who think Korn is the next Zeppelin, then i cant blame her.

but at some point she is going to stop showering me with her glittery attention and that day will come soon enough, concerned one(s), and it will be me who is the loser in that transaction.

and then, hopefully, everything, will once again make perfect sense

to all of us.

now fuck off and don't ever waste another thought about what ashley and i should be doing. odds are you have your own miserably pathetic household to ruin.

check out: ashley's auctions

# | |

greg vaine is a master of art, just like his tshirt says.

the inventor of the modern hootennany, one of the top three lead guitarists in all of los angeles, and a distinguished gentleman, greg directed me in my film debut, convinced me to join him in my first real band, and takes better pictures of me than anyone.

anyone other than ashley.

just look at how he shows off in his latest portrait by giving a tip o' the hat to one of my favorite artists by including a mirror in the upper left perfectly framed so that it shows a different perspective.

subtlety, my friends, is the calling card of genius.

everything that ive been able to do well on this blog ive stolen from greg. all the people who think im the man cuz i interview myself? greg was the first one to do it flawlessly. plus he's way better at fake names.

while he patiently expects his first born, he has sealed a deal to show his latest collection of paintings here in Los Angeles.

August 31 is the opening reception and you can expect a great turn out of local musicians, artists, and beautiful people of all kinds.

i cant hardly wait.

20: ashley is 20 and gives 20 reasons why she lusts me.

# | |

interview with meesh
by tony pierce

meesh: hey, m'here

xxsosaxx: good
xxsosaxx: how was your dinner?

meesh: mmmm, so good, Hot and Sour soup

xxsosaxx: make it yourself?

meesh: yeah
meesh: it's pretty easy
meesh: what did you have?

xxsosaxx: i make chicken breasts, baked potato and peas

meesh: so all american!

xxsosaxx: if i knew how to cook anything else i would

meesh: I'd love to cook for ya sometime

xxsosaxx: whats your specialty?

meesh: some guy from the personals is trying to chat me up right now
meesh: I have my own specialty I guess, it's fusion
meesh: Asian Spanish Middle Eastern
meesh: California
meesh: alot of fresh herbs and vegetables

xxsosaxx: whats the best way for a guy from the personals to chat you up?

meesh: have a freaking profile
meesh: I'm like, :Do you talk to strangers on the street
meesh: with bags on their heads?
meesh: me, neither

xxsosaxx: good point

meesh: do you?

xxsosaxx: i think guys just feel like theres not much special about them that you could put on a profile

meesh: chat up girls in the personals

xxsosaxx: no, i havent had the pleasure of doing that yet

meesh: there is someone for everyone
meesh: noone is as cool as they think
meesh: or as they are on paper
meesh: except you maybe

xxsosaxx: flattery will get you everywhere

meesh: so it seems

xxsosaxx: i went on a date with the biggest tallest girl in hs cuz she called me cutie all the time

meesh: oooh, call me Sweetheart, and I melt
meesh: it is weird!
meesh: or , baby

xxsosaxx: baby is doable
xxsosaxx: sweetheart would seem too much like humphry bogart

meesh: yeah, well there was this one guy, who said it
meesh: the first guy to ever say it

xxsosaxx: did he say it slowly and ironically or smoothly?

meesh: smooth
meesh: mmmmmm
meesh: usually with the puppy dog eyes
meesh: and an I'm Sorry

xxsosaxx: how tall are you meesh?

meesh: 5' 10" I think
meesh: last time I checked
meesh: hopefully I am not shrinking
meesh: taller in the winter
meesh: you?

xxsosaxx: the same

meesh: yeah?

xxsosaxx: im telling you, we are strange mirror images
xxsosaxx: except my side is cracked

meesh: your side?
meesh: I am kind of milk chocolately

xxsosaxx: youre the gorgeous graceful wonderful side

meesh: I am a Libra, I am always both sides
meesh: you should know that
meesh: it is a constant struggle

xxsosaxx: what sides are you struggling between recently?

meesh: I try realllly HARD
meesh: i GUESS i WOULDN'T SAY STRUGGLE, i LIKE EXPERIENCING THE EXTREMES IN FEELINGS
meesh: oops caps
meesh: It makes you feel more alive
meesh: from great sadness comes great joy
meesh: I am glad to just be feeling at all

xxsosaxx: cut off your feelings, did you?

meesh: do I?
meesh: do you?

xxsosaxx: you say that youre glad to be feeling
xxsosaxx: yes

meesh: are we in therapy?
meesh: :))
meesh: I would say

xxsosaxx: im not in therapy but tons of people i know are

meesh: no I mean you and I now?

xxsosaxx: oh
xxsosaxx: na

meesh: we are our own support group!

xxsosaxx: oh, ok then
xxsosaxx: but libras are bad at being shoulders to cry on

meesh: No, ok, I will say that I prefer to be in charge of how I feel, and act, and what I do, and that is not always possible in a relationship, inevidibly, you have to give up control
meesh: capiche?
meesh: you think?

xxsosaxx: i wrote a poem where i said, the only way to fall in love is to fall

meesh: So many times, I was not in control of what was happening to me,
meesh: you know, it is good to feel stable
meesh: relationships are turmoil
meesh: hopefully not everyones

xxsosaxx: have you ever been in a smooth one?

meesh: yeah, a little over a year ago
meesh: it was surprisingly smooth
meesh: that is why it was sooo fucking hard when it just evaporated in front of me!
meesh: nothing is certain
meesh: is it?

xxsosaxx: death

meesh: taxes

xxsosaxx: pee

meesh: speaking of..
meesh: want an Amstel
meesh: ??

xxsosaxx: sure

meesh: mmm, Smallville is on
meesh: notice how I am always like mmmmmmmmm...?
meesh: I am a sigher

xxsosaxx: thats nice
xxsosaxx: its sweet

meesh: when I eat, too man
meesh: my ex could not stand it
meesh: he is crazy though

chat with someone: and email it to me

# | |

Roaming correspondent Steve Adams reporting in. Of all the celebrities and groups pushing an environmental agenda, there has been one group totally left out of the debate: the Druids.

True, they were stupid enough to build Stonehenge to tell time when all they had to do was send someone to Switzerland to buy a watch, but I think it�s unfair to hold this against them. They have been charged by Mother Earth, who is one bad mother shut-your-mouth, with defense of the Earth. I decided to ask a Druid priestess about environmental issues. However, all I could get was a Druid priestess in training.

woohaa2k1: Hey, can I ask a couple of questions

druidess_in_training: ummmm...i guess

woohaa2k1: good. My name is Steven Adams; I'm a columnist

druidess_in_training: ok...hi

woohaa2k1: lol, hi

woohaa2k1: so before I start, what are you: a witch or Druid?

druidess_in_training: druid

woohaa2k1: ok, I gathered so from the name, but people use the name superstud18 when they are fat and 40, so I have to be careful

druidess_in_training: lol..understandable

woohaa2k1: How long have you been involved with being a Druidess?

druidess_in_training: 11 years

woohaa2k1: awesome, so why did you go down this route?

druidess_in_training: because it made sense to me...wicca didn't make much sense

woohaa2k1: Yeah, those Wiccans are a little nuts.

druidess_in_training: a little nuts?!

woohaa2k1: so what do you do for a living?

druidess_in_training: i'm a home mom....basically the goddess of the abode

woohaa2k1: well, I think we all like goddesses

druidess_in_training: lol

woohaa2k1: so what do you have to do or read to be a Druid?

druidess_in_training: study study study...meditate meditate meditate....work work work...and then study some more..lol

druidess_in_training: not the easiest path I assure you

woohaa2k1: so what is the result, what does being a druid mean? What does one do as a Druid?

druidess_in_training: druids protect and study Mother Earth...we are seen as the guardians, the song singers, the keepers of tales, the bookkeepers, among other things

woohaa2k1: so you probably do a lot of environmental activism

druidess_in_training: i would if i had the money...lol

druidess_in_training: i did chain myself to the tree outside my door when the city tried to come and hack it down though

woohaa2k1: amen, log all you want out in the forest but leave me oak alone.

druidess_in_training: well..the tree in front of my apt. isn't an oak...but it's still pretty and it likes me

woohaa2k1: well, mine is oak and I will sic Capt. Planet and the Planeteers on anyone who tries to take it

druidess_in_training: don't blame you

woohaa2k1: so�you for the Kyoto Protocol?

druidess_in_training: Kyoto protocol? sorry..don't watch TV much. What is this kyoto protocol thingy?

woohaa2k1: Ohh, it's a U.N. resolution limiting green house emissions. It limits the United States while the third world countries continue to pollute.

druidess_in_training: hmmmm..that doesn't make sense...if one nation should be forbidden to pollute everyone should

druidess_in_training: course i don't like the pollution anyways

woohaa2k1: well, the theory is the U.S. is the biggest polluter

woohaa2k1: which isn't true, but still

druidess_in_training: so....if the us stops polluting...then everyone else will be the biggest polluters...so they all should stop

woohaa2k1: well, the U.S. is the cleanest country

woohaa2k1: we are careful with our pollution

druidess_in_training: true...but in my opinion there shouldn't be any pollution

woohaa2k1: well, there is no way around it. Besides, volcanoes pollute more than any factory can

druidess_in_training: this is also true...but that is Mother's work...she would only do that if it needed to be done

druidess_in_training: to create a change

woohaa2k1: very true, but I believe our mother knows how to take care of herself

woohaa2k1: like the hole in the o-zone

woohaa2k1: the hole isn't there

druidess_in_training: this is also true...she heals herself...when we let her

woohaa2k1: I think she heals herself no matter what

druidess_in_training: yes...but she would heal herself faster if we just let her do her work...of course that is why people like me are around...lol

woohaa2k1: very true

woohaa2k1: good luck, may mother Earth bless your garden.

druidess_in_training: awwwww ty so much

woohaa2k1: thanks for your time

druidess_in_training: anytime dear

I am Steven Adams saying the power is yours.

loving: dawn interviewing maddie

# | |

how you doing, tony?

how you doing, tony?

ive been better.

how are the wrists?

fucked up.

i see youre still writing.

i see youre still eating.

all that happens to you and youre still a funny boy, huh?

i know you didnt call me boy.

thats right, you moolans get a little irritated with that word. sometimes i forget that you're more than just a punk. you're a black punk.

is there something i can help you with, soprano?

merely wanted to pay my respects and see if i could offer my assistance to the invalid.

you break my wrists, destroy my apartment, and steal my Tsar cds and now you come to the scene of the crime to "offer assistance?" i dont want your freaky assistance. i dont want to ever see you again. i paid you your money. and your interest. i gave you moxie's cell phone number. i put up those pictures of ashley. with all due respect, i believe that ive lived up to my side of the deal.

as a matter of fact you did, tony pierce. you did.

so why are you here?

like i said, im here to offer assistance.

why do you keep saying that?

let me put it another way. i like your style. you took your punishment like a man, you paid your penance, you showed courage, and youre playing through the pain.

SO?

so we could use someone like you. and we think you'd appreciate the freedom and the benefits of the position.

we? oh, we. uh, no. no, thank you.

little stevie is going on tour with bruce for an extended period and there will be an opening at the bada bing.

mr. soprano, the offer is generous and i am flattered, but i am very happy with my present employer.

thats not what my people tell me.

your people are mistaken.

yes, it appears that they are.

good evening, mr. soprano.

yeah, see you around, super agent.

best website by a legal teenage girl: chelle

# | |

call me crazy, but the more i read about the convicted congressman the more i like him. not only does he poo-poo the charges of bribery and corruption like it aint no thing, but he loves to curse and point fingers, and look at how shamelessly he sports that sweet rug!

eric olsen said that when he met me he saw that i have an old soul. i have always believed that too. and even though im not so sure that i will make it to be a senior citizen (due in part to my body and mind falling apart, which is why i am burning out as opposed to fading away) i always said that if i went bald i would shave off the rest of my hair and don a partying toupee or afro-wig.

and i cant wait to wear leisure suits and jumpsuits with white shoes and weild my cane at whippersnappers and short skirts.

i would also like to wear a pinky ring as i retire.

on a different subject, last night i had the pleasure of chatting a little with meesh, a former Miss Oxnard, if i am to read her bio correctly.

in our conversation she mentioned how nice it is to have a teensy little crush on someone at work. i asked her what her dream man would wear on their first date and she started with slacks, boots, and made her way up to a turtleneck. i added, "500E ?" and she squealed. guess im out of luck there.

here at the xbi where i pretty much keep to myself, i have met a few friends and developed a handful of mini-crushes. one of the friends i say hi to in the halls works in the IT department and i was washing my hands in the mens room this afternoon and i said, "old chap, would you mind telling me about the availability of the knockout tomboyish redhead in your department."

"good lord, man. i have read of your acheivements of the past, but that is a nut that no squirrel will crack, you see, she doesnt date gentlemen."

i said, "no."

he said, "yes."

i wispered, "scandelous."

he said, "it's a loss to us all."

i said, "please send her my regards upon your next encounter."

he said, "i will tip my hat to her in your name."

and despite what Professor Volokh says about switchhitters only being 3-5% of the population it sure seems like those numbers are growing in the ultra fem ranks that cross my path.

pardon me while i look for someone to blame.

meanwhile, let's all welcome sara k back to the world of daily correspondence as she educates us on the beauties of austin texas.

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I got a 007 watch and it's a one and only

"Kudos for acknowledging "The Wild ...," "Greetings ..." and "Nebraska" as the gems of the Springsteen canon.

However, it takes a real fan - or, man - to admit that "Darkness ..." and "The River" are wildly disorganized and truly horrible, three albums that, at most, yield four good songs."

- Brian M.

I don't know what they're drinking down there where Brian is calling home, but i hope it tastes good.

The River was Bruce's double album of 20 songs released in 1980 at the peak of his creative output. It yielded him his first number one hit, "Hungry Heart," mass critical acclaim from the title track and tunes like "Point Blank" and "Drive All Night" as well as light-hearted fun numbers like "I'm a Rocker" and "Cadillac Ranch" which are still staples in Bruce's live show whenever he wants to keep his audience on their feet.

Four good songs total between the six sides of The River and Darkness? Hardly, here are nine awesome songs on The River alone, in order of appearance: Hungry Heart, Out in the Street, The River, Point Blank, Cadillac Ranch, I'm A Rocker, Stolen Car, Drive All Night, Wreck on the Highway.

Meanwhile Darkness only has two clunkers "Something in the Night" and "Factory". Please try to convince me that the title track, "Badlands," "Adam Raised a Cain," "Candy's Room," "Racing in the Streets" and "The Promised Land" aren't six classic tunes. Genuine American rock anthems of struggle, turmoil and compromise in an attempt to do the right thing... that also happen to rock.

Darkness is the electric guitar record that Dylan never got around to writing, and if it doesn't float your boat, theres something wrong with your boat.

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yeah, baybee

there arent many things better than barely legal twin japanese girls in schoolgirl outfits
but being linked in people's blogs come mighty close.
here's a couple of sites who have linked me in the last few weeks that i have yet to thank:

jina.blogspot.com
the unknown news
skywriting
rick bruner
fussy
avid
what she really thinks
the underpassing
and, of course, biscuit


if you or someone you know has linked me this month
and would like to be acknowledged, please feel free to leave a comment.
also, thanks to all the nice people who bought me beers yesterday. they were good!!!!

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today is the official bruce springsteen hype day and for that i reluctantly jump on the bandwagon because i love bruce, even now as he is losing his magic.

bruce hasn't released a complete album since 1984s "born in the usa," but it's cool. even that record was produced so poppy and sappy that i cant even really listen to much of it, and i don't know the last time i played it all the way through. fortunaely super strong songs like "im on fire" "bobby jean" and "no surrender" still hold up big time for me and remain classics. and i would love it if he would rerecord "dancing in the dark" darkly.

and even though its so cliche to say, what i really love is his older stuff like "darkness on the edge of town" and "nebraska".

"born to run" is almost like staring into the sun, tunes like "jungleland" and "meeting across the river" are a little too much nowadays, but "shes the one" and "backstreets" still give me a chill.

and "thunder road" remains one of the few songs that ive happily committed to memory after long drives on the freeway in the dark singing to myself.

"a screen door slams, mary's dress waves... and like a vision she dances across the porch as a radio plays... roy orbison singing for the lonely.. hey that's me and i want you only..."

"the river" is the first record that got me into the boss. i was a kid listening to the rock and roll station when he released that one to much hype and i heard "point blank" on the fm and it nearly blew my mind. this was when songs like "another one bites the dust" was being played when billy squire's "stroke me" wasn't on. so when hilburn goes on and on about the gritty stark production of the river, he forgets that bare bones was in. springsteen had the hard core lyrics and earnest delivery. huge difference.

"greetings" and "the wild, the innocent, and the e street shuffle" are gems that i keep in a special place. totally fun, happy records that i never tire of.

post-born in the usa the only record that i really liked was "live 75-85" which did a decent job of capturing the live shows, which, of course, are impossible to bottle. a friend of mine once said that seeing springsteen was like going to a really great baseball game. its big, loud, everyone's happy, and you don't need a scorecard to recognize all the players.

later she would say that seeing U2 was like going to a great church.

lately springsteen's shows have been a little too much like church: somber, forced, ritualized, predictable, fewer and fewer spontaneous miracles, little cleansing after the service, attendance because we "should" not because we're dying to.

but the boss is back with his old band. he's back with his wife, his pals, his fans, and all the hype that he deserves. he's an american icon, like it or not. he's been the poet laureate of rock who keeps getting his ass kicked by the poet laureate of folk.

in a perfect world, bruce would ask me to produce his new record and i would say, first thing i want you to do is throw out any song that john cougar or tom petty could do better than you. next thing i want you to do is write this next record like its your last record, and not in a sentimental way, but in a way that will resonate for generations to come. live up to the hype, bro. bring back the passion of "mean streets" the fun of "rosalita" and the passion of "im on fire". i'll let you do one folk tune, but it's got to be as good as "johnny 99" or "atlantic city" but lots of people have to die in the song and it has to be set in the old west.

i want to hear clarence blow the horn, not doodle. i want him to compete against the guitars, not provide ambience. i want to hear nils do a guitar solo that makes me think, ok, that's why you have four guitars on stage. i want to feel the might of the mighty max weinberg. i want to hear a song that i will be forced to memorize again.

these are the demands, i am sure, that weigh heavy on the shoulders of the patron saint of asbury park, but i wouldn't ask these things if i didn't think he was capable of achieving them.

wanna see the bruce springsteen that i think of when i had his poster over my bed for 10 years? go rent "no nukes" and watch how he played guitar on his back atop the grand piano. i know he's older now. but he's not aged. neil young sure as hell proves that you can rock with gray in your hair.

rarely do i buy cds any more from the store, but today i will buy the rising, and im sure i will be disappointed and im sure that i will not want to hear the stories of the tragedy of 9/11 that bruce allegedly based a lot of this new material around.

but it's cool. the boss doesn't need my $15 but he deserves it. and any time he puts out new music i'll be right there searching for even a nugget of those magically rocking past glory days.

celebrating: the engagement of coulter and heather.

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i get interview requests all the time usually i turn them down. i ain't got nothing to say.

sean penn, though wanted to interview me for Bikini.

i said, isn't that magazine kaput? he said, might be, i don't know. anyway, how you doing?

shitty.

really?

no, not really. i just had a good lunch with my boss's boss. really inspiring.

name some of my movies that you liked. sean penn asked.

shit, man. i like most of your movies. racing with the moon, bad boys, fast times, colors, even that one that you directed, the one with the guy from american beauty.

"hurlyburly."

totally. loved that one.

ive been noticing that you're not getting many comments? what's up with that?

i really don't know, sean. i guess people are busy.

people seem to be leaving notes for everyone else, like moxie and meesh and dawn.

well, they're all hot babes.

vodka pundit gets tons of comments, so does lil green footballs.

doesn't matter, sean. part of being your own thing is you cant compare yourself with the others. some talk about politics and discuss. i don't really discuss with the readers here. i just write stuff down and hope they like it.

but dude, they're not even buying you beers.

dawn flowed me a buck, that was nice. she shouldn't have. she broke the rule that says no one who has met me can flow the buck, but its cool. shes a nice woman.

did you see her naked on her blog this weekend?

no, sean, i don't look at naked women who are married.

none?

well, i try not to. in fact i wish that they'd label the porn at the video store so you'd know that none of the actresses are married.

it's a sin to look at married women having sex and not unmarried women?

yeah, i think so. its sorta adultry in my warped mind.

ever do coke, tony?

no, im too hyper.

i think you shoulda done coke with meesh that night, bro.

sean, there was no coke there, meesh was just trying to be scandalous.

ever do an asian?

ive had sex with a couple asian young women. two, actually. one was chinese, one was half japanese.

how was it?

like i have to tell you, mr. shanghai surprise.

i was married then!

all women are unique and wonderful, sean penn, you know that. for example my friend carlisa and her sister and her friend just launched a new fashion line and---

karisa, i thought she was polish.

no, carlisa. different girl entirely, same dot com, but different girl. carlisa got a college scholarship to play hoops back in the day.

what's their line called?

Pink Cookies.

get out.

i swear.

what do they sell?

airbrushed tshirts, cool stuff like that.

i don't wear airbrushed tshirts, tony.

me neither, but they're cool girls. i spent last halloween with em.

what did you dress up as?

an fbi agent.

you ass.

ha. yeah, i know.

rabbit's been down for ten days: will today be her return?

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feeling like a hundred bucks, exchanging good lucks im feeling better now. someone approached me, i shamefully hid my powdered hands, and they said, "hey did you know theres a stick hanging out of your ass?"

and she pulled it out and whew, do i feel a bunch better.

how long could that thing have been in there? weeks, at least. here it is the middle of summer. im getting summer loving from all over this magical town. i get to watch julianne barbarie twice a day, howard stern, my house is clean, my body is clean. my hands are fucked but i can still type to you. all is good. all is good.

but still, fellas, you can buy me some beers, and ladies, you can email me your fantasies.

the american economy still has a stick up its ass, but no one on capital hill really wants it removed or they'd legalize pot.

simple as that.

those fuckers, i swear, they call me up at all hours all the time to solve their problems and it wouldn't bother me so much if they'd only listen to what i have to tell them.

the other day this marketing company called me up. they have a client that makes underwear for teenage boys. they wanted to put together a survey that they could give the kids to figure out what they should call this line of underwear.

i said, kids don't care what some madison avenue marketing yankoff calls the tidy whities, they just want them. they don't even buy them! their moms buy their underwear! im ten thousand years old and my mom still buys my underwear and socks.

they said, tony, heres a bag of money, what questions should we ask these kids so we can find out what we cal the underwear that will have skateboards and footballs and cool stuff like that on the boxers?

i said, forget it. you guys just want to make work for yourself. ask me. i am eternally 15 years old. 15 year old boys, like the men that they grow up to, have lil nicknames for their lil fellas. name the undies accordingly.

in order to have a "hip" name, i told the marketing geniuses, you have to have equal parts hip-hop culture and suburban nerdiness. mixed together properly you have a crossover hit that, if funny, will appeal to the demographic you allegedly desire.

call the undies: Jimmy McSchwing's. its a name that the kids will chuckle at, due to its subtle naughtiness. and the parents will ask for by name until they realize the harmless crudeness. but basically, the company who goes for it and has the courage will win. big time.

they claimed to understand. but i knew they didnt.

Schwing is what Mike Myers and Dana Carvey said on television on SNL when they were talking about a pretty girl.

Mc is simply funny when added to a funny word.

jimmy is what the hip hoppers call their schweens. "dont forget your jimmy hat" equals "dont forget your condom, friend."

i could hear a lone pencil tapping on a shiny oak table in a meeting room.

so then i said, "and if you want to bring back the american economy you'd legalize weed, letting the american farmer finally have a legal cash crop that he could grow and sell at a reasonable profit."

more silence.

"and if you really wanted people to come out to the baseball games, you'd have Snakehead fish races in between innings."

your check will be in the mail, the yuppies announced, and turned me off the speakerphone.

permalinked: to my first Salon blog

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im not in the best mood. normally i put on a happy face when i write in you, blog, but today i can't fake it. and normally, i don't fake it. normally i feel blessed with my situation here in the richest country in the world. normally i feel lucky to still have a job, and hot babes to date, and close friends to hang out with, and fancy electronics to entertain me.

but today none of those things seem to lift my spirits above crabby.

aaarrrrrrgggghhhh.

i never talk about my job here, but today i will. im terrible at my job and everyone knows it. there are all these rules and i cant get them straight. its the main reason the fbi kicked me out. i kept breaking the rules. i didn't mean to break them, in fact i'd look at the huge book and find what im supposed to do, and then it turns out that im not really supposed to do that at all. fucking sucks.

this year ive been in the xbi is pretty much the same. i keep unintentionally screwing up and i keep thinking i'll be transferred but it never happens. now im stuck because i have to make this huge proposal but i cant do it because my hands are fucked up.

typing, oddly, doesn't hurt my hands, but using my mouse at home brings me to my knees in pain. now i have these blisters in my palms, its terrible.

want to depress a bachelor writer? put incredibly obvious blisters on his palms thanks to the super unattractive wrist braces supplied by the workers comp doctor. now i cant feel up the hotties or make photo essays of me and ashley's weekend.

i don't know what to do about these blisters, so i put athlete's foot medicine on them. a few years ago me and chris went to cancun. we climbed the mayan pyramids. i was teasing chris about her fear of heights. it was rainy and slippery on the super steep pyramids so you had to put your hands on the stairs as you climbed them up and climbed them down. next day my oh-so-sensitive hands were covered in fungi. i put socks on my hands when i went to bed.

today i have this foot powder on them. i already look like a nerd. nothing i can do about that. now i look like ive been playing pool all night.

i need a new job. screw saving the world. the world doesn't even want to be saved. i just want to write. even in the most uncomfortable moments of my life i have the urge to write. somewhere in there i think that some of this might be amusing or interesting or entertaining to someone. merely suffering to myself and keeping this bottled up does nothing for others. this might make you feel a little better about your lot.

tried to call ashley last night to tell her that i appreciated her visit and i was sorry about all the times i was a big idiot but she was on the other line with her true love.

downloaded some of the new springsteen last night. remind me never to get married. it totally kills your art.

the best rock music is a mating call, a lonely wolf howl in the night at the moon, a call to arms, a battle cry.

the sound of a middle age man treading water is what i heard from my computer last night and i ask you all, wheres rosalita? come sit by my fire.

heres how you can make me happy today if that is what you'd like to do.

fellas: put a few bucks into the tip jar. consider it buying me a beer, cuz for sure that's what i wish i could have right now.

ladies: guest blog for my ass. any topic will do. tell me why i should keep watching sex in the city even though all the male characters (and their mothers) are idiots. tell me about your first kiss. tell me what a man should do on a perfect date. tell me what you'd do for me if we were on a first date. tell me what web sites you like and why.

me, im going to go back to the job and try to figure out these rules. i swear i try hard when i work. i swear!

and i also promise you that these sorts of downer posts will remain few and far between.

wishing: doc searls a happy 55th birthday!

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one reason i wanted ashley to date boys her own age is because eventually she would figure out that im a fucking freak and the last thing that i would want her to think is that all guys are like this.

if she was dating a guy 19-21, all they'd want from her is sex. simple.

i think it's way easier for girls who are 20 to think that all guys ever want is sex.

when i was at the age where all i wanted was sex, i also wanted to be the manager of the chicago cubs. predictably i didn't get either.

but now poor ashley (pictured, with Losty) has to figure out how to please a guy who has had his share of carnal pleasures, has heard all the best music that will be recorded, has seen all the freaky things that hollywood will ever deliver up, and has pretty much done everything that he has wanted to do...

for the slight exception of managing the cubs to a long overdue world series championship.

so how on earth can she please me?

often she says im never satisfied. and on many levels shes right. last night we rented my favorite movie of all time, the blues brothers, and like a trooper she sat through it with me.

ive gotta say that even though the movie was made before ashley was born, it held up well and she gave a few courtesy chuckles and asked when i wanted to go to bed.

i said, im not sleepy.

she said, who said anything about sleep.

today it was my turn to compromise. i had to listen to kroq all day waiting for the new no doubt single to play so ashley could call in to win a fabulous prize. how listening to kroq 106.7 for 8 hours equals watching john belushi and dan akyroyd for 2 hours is beyond me, but many things are these days, like what are hot twenty year olds doing still hanging out with me more than a year after she must have realized that i ain't all that.

just past signal hill on the 405 this evening the magic song was played and ashley darted through my gym bag and found my cell phone and started dialing and redialing and after a few songs it became obvious that she was not the winner. once the contest was over, it became obvious that our sunday was pretty much ruined due to the fact that she couldn't concentrate on anything other than winning the trip to australia.

still heading south to drop off the daisy princess, she turned to me and said, what can i do that would make you happy right now.

now one reason that ashley is still in heavy rotation is because when she says things like this, the skys the limit. and if you know me you know my sky is high and wide. a question like that could begin with miniature golf and end with nine holes of real golf and tons of other variants in between.

this evening i said, "just say something nice to me."

she said, "im sore because your cock's so big."

and trust me when i tell you that even writing down that beautiful lie still brings a smile to my face.

and once again, ashley has proven that i should stop worrying about her so much, because shes far more wise than anyone gives her credit for.

her answer, for the record, earned her a trip to jamba juice and a few rounds of mario cart in her living room.

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blink 182 is on. it's one of the only good songs that ive heard on kroq this morning.

i have stopped listening to pasadena's world famous alt rock station, but they're giving away a pair of tickets to see no doubt in sydney australia and ashley is convinced that she will win, despite all of the karmic signs that point to the opposite. she is making me suffer through the decade stale kroq playlist so she can win these tickets and take SOMEONE ELSE!

now the vines are on, no, i mean the strokes, no, actually its the fuckwhatstheir name? "im in love with a girl" white stripes. ok, why doesn't kroq play something else from them? if they're so cool why not play another song? instead they seem to want to make us hate the song they play it so much shoving it down, here consumer HERE!

red hot chili peppers is on now. "under the bridge." why?

red hot chili peppers have a song on the radio right now that sounds just like this, and its new. the record came out like two weeks ago. why not play that one?

im nervous about their new record.

i hate the chili peppers' records. i cant listen to them. nothing has ever caught that live sound that spastic frenzy funk metal explosion.

they were doing so good with "give it away" and then they start releasing all these damn ballads.

the intellectual heroin boy with his shirt off isnt who im looking to for philosophical love songs.

you wrote one good one, this one. now go back to rocking for me, please.



Red Hot Chili Peppers
By the Way

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guest blogger: kool keith

The air was crisp.

The rain from the previous night had cleared all the smog out of the Los Angeles basin, leaving behind a cool, clear morning.

Dark reached into his left jean pocket and withdrew the white and gold box of cigarettes. Marlboro Lights.

Rion Dark never smoked anything but Marlboro Lights anymore.

He reached into the pack and pulled out a smoke. Two more and then the lucky. Dark started to ponder what his wish would be when he smoked the last, lucky one in the pack. He lit the cigarette and breathed in deep.

Ah. The first hit was always the best.

Looking up, he noticed the tallest building in view.

It was a wide, gray building with the slogan "EQUITY" engraved across the top.

Equity.

The words on the building slowly began sliding across the face of the structure, gradually becoming a snake of letters, the "E" the head and the "Y" the tail.

The equity snake of LA's Koreatown turned to face him.

"Hello, Rion," said the Snake of Equity.

"Hello, Snake of Equity," Dark replied. "What the fuck are you looking at?" That thing in his belly, the one that rumbled when he was really enjoying his
job, awoke from its slumber.

"You are evil, Dark. You are evil out of choice, as well. It is in your nature, yet you could easily overcome it. There is that strength in you."

"I know, you fuck," Dark spoke quietly, yet forcefully. It was the tone used when things were going to get a little ugly. Lets pause for a commercial break ladies and germs, because this fucking snake of equity, oh my God this is good acid.

The acid, the acid was creating the snake.

He hadn't even realized it until then. The tab he'd taken earlier hadn't really kicked in yet. Rion Dark wasn't much for drugs, really. Except for cigarettes and acid. Well, he usually smoked a few bowls during his trips, and he did like to put a drink back every once in a while, but that was about the extent of it.

Dark had never decided which one he enjoyed more. Cigarettes were the constant ally, yet acid was the occasional oh so sweet, thank you darling once-a-month treat. On the first of every month, and here it was, December first thank you very much. Sometimes he had to delay his trip until the 2nd or 3rd, if there was some deadly serious business going on, which was actually quite often, but generally he was able to set up a solid day every 1st to just trip out and let his mind wander. His physical form usually followed.

He was quite a mobile tripper, probably from all the experience. He never drove on the stuff, unless he was truly out of the woods, but he liked to walk the streets, or ride around in taxicabs. Dark was a quiet, thoughtful, tripper. No one took much notice of him.

Equity. He'd have to look it up in the dictionary for an exact definition, but he knew it was a business term for assets. Meaning money. Somebody with a lot of equity was probably a pretty loaded bastard. A building with the word stamped across it had to have truckloads of cash lying around, he reasoned.

Dark would remember this building of equity, thank you very much.

Dark sat up from the stoop he'd been resting on and flicked his cigarette into the gutter. Enough fresh air, time to get back to the party, or what was left of it. The broads had mostly trickled away as the night went on, and it was down to the serious heads.

Fine by Rion Dark. He had enough women muddying up his world.

Suddenly he was thinking about the job he'd been working on yesterday. Old Nelly in the belly had really been a buzzin' then. The guy had only been 5'3, bald, the prototypical little neurotic bookkeeper.

Dark loved watching courage and determination melt into desperation and fear, and all the myriad emotions in between. They had put little Edgar Bryant through hell last night, and really, they had only gotten started. The thought made him feel quite warm and fuzzy inside, and Dark didn't know if that pleased or worried him.

At this point, he couldn't care less. The intercom system at Mikey's front door was smiling at him, the slats where sound came out bent into a shit-eating grin.

Rion hit the intercom's left eye (button, dammit!) and was promptly buzzed up to the dim apartment, where bowls and play-station awaited.

stoked: that doc searls permalinked the busblog, thanks doc

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