The Replacements
Tim
Sire Records

"Swingin' Party"

Bring your own lampshade, somewhere there's a party
Here it's never endin', can't remember when it started
Pass around the lampshade, there'll be plenty enough room in jail

If bein' wrong's a crime, I'm serving forever
If bein' strong's your kind, then I need help here with this feather
If bein' afraid is a crime, we hang side by side
At the swingin' party down the line
At the swingin' party down the line

Pound the prairie pavement, losin' proposition
Quittin' school and goin' to work and never goin' fishin'
Water all around, never learned how to swim now

If bein' wrong's a crime, I'm serving forever
If bein' strong's your kind, then I need help here with this feather
If bein' afraid is a crime, we hang side by side
At the swingin' party down the line
At the swingin' party down the line

Bring your own lampshade, somewhere there's a party
Here it's never endin', can't remember when it started
Pass around the lampshade, there'll be plenty enough room in jail

If bein' wrong's a crime, I'm serving forever
If bein' strong is what you want, then I need help here with this feather
If bein' afraid is a crime, we hang side by side
At the swingin' party down the line

# | |

The Replacements
Let It Be
Twin/Tone Records

"Sixteen Blue"

Drive yourself right up the wall
No one hears and no one calls
It's a boring state
It's a useless wait, I know

Brag about things you don't understand
A girl and a woman, a boy and a man
Everything is sexually vague
Now you're wondering to yourself
If you might be gay

Your age is the hardest age
Everything drags and drags
One day, baby, maybe help you through
Sixteen blue
Sixteen blue

Drive your ma to the bank
Tell your pa you got a date
You're lying, now you're lying on your back

Try to figure out, they wonder what next you'll pull
You don't understand anything sexual
I don't understand
Tell my friends I'm doing fine

Your age is the hardest age
Everything drags and drags
You're looking funny
You ain't laughing, are you?
Sixteen blue
Sixteen blue

# | |

The Replacements
Hootenanny
Twin/Tone Records

"Lovelines"

Slightly overweight girls need sex also
Send your note and desires
Means of contact P.O. Box 8941

Baby you have been along
I'll read another
As soon as it comes around

Feeling pressure?
Call Lovelines

JD if you need a fishing partner
please let me know
Visitors welcome instruction
5 generation mess you give for naught

Hey Ellen
Mark says hi
Tom what else can I say
I love you very much
I'm glad we're together
miss you a lot
Love kitten

Ooh yeah ooh yeah Kitten
Ooh yeah ooh yeah

Lurkin' lizards lyin' in the tanners
under an oral fix
waiting for the return of the crawling kingsnake
John Lee

okay
grin & bear it

Fantasy Phone Swingers' Hotline
Pure silk, pure seduction
G-strings in petal pink
Hell

Attract some women
scientific formulated
spray the conductive male hormone
yo, turn the lights off

ooh baby, let's turn a page

Person-to-person
And it's all a bunch of shit

Wednesday, October 13th, 1982
volume 4, number 79

# | |

The Replacements
Sorry Ma, Forgot To Take Out The Trash
Twin/Tone Records

"I'm In Trouble"

I gotta hide, I gotta run
Try suicide, well that ain't no fun
Oh you won't ever say that it's so
You're in love and I'm in trouble

Spend my cash, waste my time
Take out the trash, not this time
Well you won't never say that it's so
You're in love and I'm in trouble

I'm in
You're in
I'm in
You're in
Trouble

I'm in
You're in
I'm in
You're in
Trouble
Trouble
Trouble
Trouble

I gotta hide, I better run
I'll try suicide, no no no that ain't no fun
You won't ever let me go
You're in love and I'm in trouble
Yeah

# | |

The Replacements
Stink
Twin/Tone Records

"God damn job"

I need a God damn job
I need a God damn job
I really need a God damn job
I need a God damn job

God dammit
God dammit
God damn, I need a God damn job

I need a God damn girl
I need a God damn girl
I really need a God damn girl
I need a God damn girl

God dammit
God dammit

God damn, I need a God damn job
Right now right now

An honest job, if I can find one

# | |

sometimes a hot chick from the neighborhood will knock on my door and cup her hands around her eyes and peer through my windows to see if im home, and sometimes i answer and sometimes they take advantage of me and sometimes i even like it.

normally i resist the temptation because i really don't want anything from them, and as much as a good fling might make for a good fling, i have rarely met a hottie who understands this concept and after a while they start to make themselves comfortable and wear out their welcome.

but today i feel ornery. austin powers would say randy, rene would say naughty, and the king of pop would say dangerous.

friday night and i planned on drawing a hot tub, snipping some rose petals from the bushes and sprinkling them around the floor and light candles like "when doves cry" and turn the music on low and recuperate this old body of mine.

ive abused it. ive worn it out. ive taken advantage and im sorry, brittle bones.

you've carried this mixed up soul around for over a century of rock n roll and ive never done the damage to you that ive done this summer and im sorry.

but murphys law says there will be a ding dong at the doorbell and rosalita doesn't ring twice. she might have a friend in from out of town, she might have a cousin, she might have an ememy. she might come alone. things start off nice, we'll hug, we'll chat, she'll pop open a dr. pepper and pour it in her glass and see if i have any french bread which i wont and she'll look at me pleased.

french bread means brie, brie means wine, wine means i have had company, and shes a jealous neighbor

and im an unapologetic man.

she'll try to be sexy, but she doesn't need to try, she just needs to lean over.

i have a friend who has a bell on his night stand and he tells his girlfriends, of which he has many, fucker, that since we live in uncertain times, he would prefer it if they rang the bell when they wanted what they wanted.

he told me that the other night he had a woman over who knew this procedure and walked into his room and "tripped" and knocked over the bell.

oopsie, she said.

but make no mistake, my life is nothing like his, and his is nothing like yours, and instead of a hot tub, i'll probably twist open a cold beer, flip on the tv and pass out before ten only to be awaken by a rerun of night court, completely sleeping through the little tap tap at the door.

# | |

ashley doesnt like it when i talk about politics. shes not the only one.

she wrote in and said that if she took a picture of she and her sister in catholic girl skirts would i just shut up and write about her.

i said, bribery and flattery will get you everywhere.

she enclosed the following picture and told me that i am the sexiest man she's ever known.

::sigh:: if only she loved me for my mind.

ashley is finishing up her summer vacation in las vegas this weekend. the family took a quick trip to sunny palm springs followed by a spur of the moment excursion to the happiest place on earth and then back to vegas for more heat. ashley loves it hot. i do too.

this weekend her daddy's gonna buy her a car, which is going to be an interesting situation because that means that she will probably be making more trips up to see me than what has been the norm.

in my quest to help her find boys her own age, i have suggested that she really shouldnt be calling and emailing and hanging with me as much as she does but she just calls me stupid and tells me how much she misses me.

recently Hef emailed me and told me that he has the same troubles with his girfriends which is why he's up to 6 of the blonde bombshells currently.

"gotta take the good with the bad," he told me, "plod on the best that you can, dude."

i like it when older guys say "dude." it sounds so funny.

there is an old budhist line that goes: what you resist, persists.

this is the first time ive ever pushed a girl away who would have nothing of it.

i cant say it's terrible.

whats also pretty neat is when people borrow from my style. recently ive seen annessa talk to her blog, kool keith interview several of his personalities simultaneously, as well as various others who take pics from reuters and write around them.

imitation pleases me.

pretty much my whole experience of blogging has been quite a happy little journey of suprising discoveries.

people write in and try to narc on others who are "biting" my style, but i think its fine. humans are animals who grow by mimicking. i dont wear my influences on my sleeve, i plaster them right across my chest: bukowski, e.e., sukenick, royko, layne, welch, vaine, jd salinger, spin, maxim, the man show, howard stern.

after a while ones own personality will come through.

maybe next week will be the week that mine will finally make it here.

lets hope it has been worth the wait.

# | |

happy 44th birthday, madonna!

love,

your biggest fan,

tony

# | |

ways republicans can prove that they're not completely full of shit

1. legalize pot - they say that they're pro-farmer, pro-business, not racist, good economists, logical, and with Christian values, prove it. God made all the green plants on the 6th day and said it was good. Laughing and giggling and getting the munchies is good. smoke all the weed you want, you wont die. ask any hippie. legalize weed, stop the war on drugs, tax the hell out of it so that it's 3x the price of cigarettes (currently it's about 10x) and use those taxes to rebuild our cities.

2. abolish school vouchers - simply the most racist thing ive seen in my lifetime.

3. apologize to clinton for that ridiculous impeachment bullshit - that was an embarrassment to our country and many people will never look at rebulicans as serious public officials unless they admit that it was a failed witch hunt and a waste of tax dollars. that was a miserable precedent that was basically, "we lost the election so we will sick the dogs on the President that will start with whitewater and end with impeachment." you should be ashamed.

4. abolish the FCC. those are the public's airwaves. if people really don't want to hear the word "fuck" in primetime, they will tune out. we're not babies. you say you want less government, prove it. and by the way, hbo has proven that the people do want to hear the word "fuck" in primetime.

5. fire alan greenspan.

6. break up Ticketmaster.

7. find Bin Laden - we've believed your bullshit about a strong military. you've gotten all the money and toys and laws and people that you need. you identified him as the enemy. find him, prosecute him, do it on pay-per-view, give the money to The Great Ghetto Project (to be explained later).

8. stop this impending baseball strike - once again, republicans swear they know a thing or two about business, and this is a dispute among millionaires, if you cant figure out how to make it so that millionaires can make money, then what exactly can you claim to be good at?

9. Create the Great Ghetto Project: people think that Republicans are racist and only concerned with helping out themselves and other rich whites, prove those critics wrong. If America is a big apple barrel with a rotting bottom that needs repair so that the whole barrel doesn't collapse on itself, then repair the rotting parts. I say start with the ghettos. Everyone knows where they are.

Use your alleged business genius and create popular television programs that people will will fork over $20 to see on pay-per-view. i have a few ideas, naturally, to get the ball rolling.

the first show will be called "Titties for the Cities." now the first thing you'll have to do, of course, is stop making the word "titties" illegal to say on television, but once you abolish the FCC that will be easy to do. What this program will consist of will be a parade of hundreds of beautiful young women from all over the world who will walk onto a stage, lift their shirts and say whatever they want for 30 seconds, this will be a one hour show. it will raise millions if not billions, mostly because celebrities interested in helping america's poor will also lift their shirts in support.

"Public Execution Live" - public executions are not cruel and unusual punishment. they just aren't. put that shit on tv, rake in the millions.

"Lie Detector Debates" - hook up political candidates to lie detectors, put them under super hot lights, give them 2 minutes to answer questions, after 2 minutes their mics go dead, have the lie detector on the split screen. this very well might be cruel and unusual, but it might also just help this country return to glory.

take the monies, hire all the poor who wait outside of Home Depot who want jobs, hire all the people on welfare, train them using licensed contractors, and then block by block rebuild the ghettos until there aren't any any more. have Martha Stewart supervise. put that shit on tv too.

if you cannot rebuild our cities, you aren't public servants. you can put additions to your mansions with mexican workers, you let mexicans and blacks be nannies to your babies, now let them learn a trade and rebuild their communities.

10. Give Blacks, Mexicans, Native Americans and public school teachers a 100% relief from state and federal income taxes. The teachers don't have to pay taxes for as long as they're teachers. The minorities get 12 years of relief in the form of a punch-card. Each year they choose not to pay taxes they go to the post office and get their card punched. if the IRS comes to their house, they simply have to show their punch card and the IRS has to go away.

The purpose of this is to apologize for slavery, and apologize for stealing the land that our nation is now residing on.

If you cant fix the economy, use the military, take government out of our airwaves, encourage smart people to be educators, save baseball, and protect our country from terrorists, then what is the GOP really about other than getting in the way of Liberals. you've gone to the best schools, you've had the best opportunites, we've even allowed you to steal an election. so now do something and quit talking about it.

Do these things, conservatives, and i will know that you are not full of shit.

you've got two years. you really only need one.

your pal,

tony

kudos to peggy and daniel for the flowage. thank you thank you thank you!!!!

p.s. this is the last political post that i will make this year. there are plenty of other places to go for this bologna. most people like to talk about this, i like to actually see things happen. i say we get shit done and quit talking so much.

home + main page + flow the busblog

# | |

new game for your ass this game is called the Hits game.

really simple to play.

starting from now till sunday at midnight it will be your job to get as many hits as you can to this site.

have a link that says "OMG! nude women selling abacusses!" or "George Bush Actually Doing Something" or "Bin Laden Found Shuffleboarding". doesnt matter. just get them here.

the top five sites that link to me will get linked on the left hand primo slot in order of hits received.

also, as a bonus, i will do a good feature on each of the five sites and their authors.

void where prohibited.

and like the presidential elections, cheating is allowed.

anything goes.

have fun!

in other news, i have had the rare opportunity of catching a glimpse of the next episode of the Anna Nicole Show, and it is by far the best one yet.

if you like america's new sweetheart and her adventures through tinsletown, you will love this episode.

as in LOVE.

are you in a happy mood today, clickers and lurkers?

what about you comment people?

as for the comment people too chicken shit to leave their names and email addresses after they try to diss me, have no fear, i have your IP addresses and i will be making the rounds across this country soon enough and when i do you will get a friendly little visit where i will teach you some manners and remind you of what your momma should have taught you years ago regarding the Golden Rule.

if you have a mean, jealous, stupid comment, sign your name, that way people might just think that you have the faintest clue.

otherwise we'll just assume that youre some chicken shit pimply faced teenboy hopped up on code red mountain dew bored from being rejected all day from cam girls who refuse to netmeeting with you envious of the strange luck of yours truly, yet incapable of a decent put down if you even tried. and sadly, you are trying.

so here's what you should do, fella. keep beating off to pop-up xxx ads of barnyard girls that look like your sister. keep being lame and repetitive. keep writing dumbass things in the comments section that only make me look like shakespeare in comparison, and for once in your life *pretend* to be a man and after you say something totally predictable and lame take a chance and leave your name and a link to your incredible web site so we can all bask in your brilliance of creativity wit and scary insight.

or just go back to lurking, squeezing your zits, and being a young republican.

you are nothing but fuel for my wildfire of vengence.

signed,

tony pierce dot com

# | |

tiger woods?

tony pierce, what's up with UPI?

oh you mean that article about bloggers?

don't you mean that article about white journalists who have blogs?

uh.

tony, where the brothas?

tiger, that article was a fair summation of about a dozen of the most popular blogger out there.

all i saw were mentions of all the usual suspects: layne, welch, rabbit, emmanuelle, reynolds, postrel, andrew sullivan, lileks, kaus, michael moore, drudge, and alex beam.

alex beam isn't a journalist.

ok, you got me there. but still, what is revolutionary about Blogging isn't that everyday people get to read journalists, its that everyday people get to read everyday people.

like who, tiger?

like you, tony.

p'shaw.

ok, then like charles johnson, who was written about a little in the article.

i agree with you there, here's a long haired guitar player from the valley computer expert who has The go-to website for all your arab news.

i thought he was a bass player.

whatever. in my opinion all stories about blogging should begin with his little green footballs. it is the epitome of a normal guy with an extraordinary interest who can take the news and discuss it in an intelligent way on a well-designed site visited by millions.

your site gets millions, tony.

then i would talk about eric and dawn olsen. two non-journalists who came to the party relatively late in the game and became huge blogging stars. eric writes about music and politics, dawn talks about jim treacher.

what's so special about that?

i just told you, they're just a normal married couple with two entirely different come-froms and interests who have two totally different sites who have risen to the top in a short period of time simply by being interesting. incidentally, it's dawn's birthday today.

happy birthday, dawn.

happy 25th birthday, dawn!

how many other married couples are blogging, tony?

welch and emmanuelle, layne and crane, greg and molli.. im sure there are others.

any brothers and sisters blogging?

you mean besides ben and kate sullivan? do they count, they're both journalists?

ok, sorry, my bad. i love them though. so let me tell you another problem i had with the article. everyone was white.

most bloggers are white. you need a computer to blog. and free time. and money for hosting.

more reason to include you on the list, my brotha.

whatever.

other problem with the upi thing, everyone was in their 30s.

wrong again, tiger, emmanuelle and heather aren't a day over 25.

ok, well, why don't these "serious" articles ever talk about the forefathers of the modern day blogger, the cam girls, who, by the way, are still kicking ass design-wise and traffic-wise.

i don't think that's true, tiger.

tony, remember when welch gave kudos to lil green footballs for getting over 500 comments on one of his posts?

yeah, but you have to admit that's quite an accomplishment. metafilter is a frickin "communitiy" and if theres 100 comments to a front page post, that's a hugely popular thread.

well, your girl Chelle got 500+ comments the other day, and nay was averaging over 50 a post before she put up her message board, which immediately crashed due to popularity.

well who doesn't want to look at cute teen girls getting naked on their cams?

ha ha, that's funny. you know they don't get naked.

yeah, i know.

and why didn't UPI write about the older bloggers like Doc Searls and The Daily Pundit?

those guys are just prematurely gray.

and what about the people who make super beautiful sites like Riley Dog, and Looby Lu and Floor Pie and 5ilver?

what it makes me think, tony, is that these newspapers and reporters really don't take blogs seriously, they treat them like a cute little fad, or a tool for freelance journalists to archive their work.

otherwise they themselves would have blogs?

exactly. ironically, very few people ever write about Ev, the inventor of Blogger, 's blog

but would it still be cool if the mainstream had blogs?

the mainstream does have blogs, that's exactly my point, and that's what makes them so interesting. you discovered moxie, a normal single young woman trying to get over her past love and re-join the dating pool. when it's well-written, like hers is, that's good stuff.

what about molli writing about going through her pregnancy?

what about sara moving from frisco to texas?

what about a pretty depressed anorexic young woman eating cups of ice?

what about the true life stories of Miss Oxnard? speaking of which, where do you find these people?

they find me. but tiger, reporters aren't going to write about that sort of thing. how do you explain it? why would it bring about any interest?

it's interesting, tony, because it's real. reality tv is the biggest thing right now. blogs are reality tv that's unedited written by real people who aren't in it solely for the money. unlike the networks. bloggers even have a neilson ratings of sorts. if people want real, theres nothing more real than reading about sara discovering her new neighbors in austin, the bugs.

hell, it's so mainstream even celebs have blogs, like moby's and rupaul's rule.

totally.

tiger, i gotta get on a bus and go to work now.

ok, tony, but what are you going to do about the fact that you never get written about in these big articles? if Time decided to write about Bloggers, Instapundit would make the cover, not you.

Instapundit deserves it, he's the man.

but what you do is so much more difficult. plus you've popularized so many different aspects of this medium, photo essays, interviewing inanimate objects, selling links on your blog on eBay, suckering the blog world into getting you 100 new links in a month, and im sorry but i don't think that Instapundit ever got 2 million hits in 4 days.

i bet he did.

i bet he didn't. and if he did, then maybe you two should be on the cover of Time together.

gonna miss my bus, tiger. keep dating those white girls. but i wouldn't put me and Glenn on the cover, i would put Glenn and Ev.

i disagree. but nice work being the #1 Tony on Google. maybe you should be on the cover of Ebony then.

I'm holding out for Jet. btw, i heard that you were the #4 Tiger.

can you believe that shit?

sucks to be you, i guess.

would you mind writing about me a little and helping my number?

i'll see what i can do for you, bro.

much love to eric and chris who both stoked the blog with a solid buck. im wondering if that thermostat will break $300 before friday? jersey guy would say no, but his mom wont let him on the computer till he cleans his room.

# | |

anna suddenly doesnt like canada she lost yesterday to Virginia Ruano Pascual 7-5, 6-1.

she called me and then hung up without leaving a message.

i was playing softball.

we won 15-6.

when she finally reached me she didnt want to talk about tennis.

i almost pulled my quad running around second, i told her.

are you in love with karisa? she asked.

i was stupid, i said, ignoring her, which is what you should do when girls are being girls. i didnt jog i didnt run, you should always run around the field first then stretch then sprint then jog again.

'cause you sure did kiss her ass. she pouted.

i mean, i know i dont look 108, but tonight i feel about 75. my left leg. my arm's fine though. and i almost thought i broke my foot when i crossed home.

do you even love me any more, tony?

no, im no longer in love with you. i told her.

when im on the phone i pace. people used to make fun of me until i saw the thelonious monk documentary "straight, no chaser." a fellow libra, monk would pace and walk in tight little circles and talk to himself. he talked to himself when he played too. even if you have a crappy stereo if you get the verve recording of "alone in san francisco" you can hear him approving of certain runs or well struck notes.

i play monk any time i can at the department store.

and when i do i talk to myself quietly.

you dont?!

how old are you, anna?

twenty one.

ok, i change my mind then,

i still love you.

brezney was right, the real thing has arrived. kate sullivan is now writing for the new times la, and today unveils her new column.

# | |

Libra Horoscope for week of August 15, 2002

The Real Thing has arrived. Maybe not the Ultimate, Climactic, Last-You-All-Your-Life Real Thing, but who knows?

Even if it is just a temporary Real Thing, it's still got a lot of rich transformations to give you.

I'd like to inquire, therefore, why you have not yet let it fully into your life?

Is it because it has a superficial resemblance to a counterfeit "Real Thing" from your past? Or, in a world teeming with false promises and spin doctors and crafty sales pitches, are you finding it hard to recognize a truly genuine article?

Pinch yourself, Libra.

- Rob Brezney from Free Will Astrology

i dont know what any of that means, but maybe it will cheer up meesh, who appears to be down in the dumps about some damn thing or another. all i know is that its keeping her from blogging, a terrible affliction that has stymied the elctronic growth of some of my favorite bloggers this summer: a. beam, rabbit, dolce, reesha, layne and welch, to name a few.

fortunately we have Blogcritics, though, which just might have too much information! not that thats possible.

one blogger who continues to plug away is Richard Bennett, who today comments on a senate bill that just passed that will help, if ever so slightly, men who have been unjustly accused of fathering children from women that they dont even know. as i found out the hard way, even if the DNA test proves that billie jean is not your lovah, you could still find yourself having to pay for a little kid who doesnt even look like you.

i'd kiss the feet of my lawyer who got me off the hook, but i think her boyfriend would get jealous. perhaps she would like me to do some light dusting around her hot tub?

and finally today, sorry but i have to star in our first xbi softball scrimmage this evening, a lovely lady who recently flowed the busblog paypaled my ass and asked if it was enough for a sexy little tale about "a good girl with high morals on an excursion abroad and runs into someone willing to corrupt her."

dear, any amount of generosity towards the busblog slush fund is enough for such a tale, and i promise you that before friday you will have just what you seek either on this blog or on the main site. so stay tuned, and people, send in your requests with your bucks and your dreams just might come true too.

# | |

chris c. writes in to applaud me for not wanting to get it on with my good friend karisa. chris needs to hold his applause.

i am a man and she is definitely a woman. and quite attractive. attractive in a way that most cameras fail to capture. karisa's also attractive in ways that photography could never document. shes smart, funny, talkative, free, open, wild, handy, booksmart, streetsmart, musicsmart, adventurous, magical, and has great taste in automobiles.

with that said, not every excellent girl is the right girl for every boy.

karisa loves to be out and about. she runs up giant hills, dances at hollywood clubs, drinks at dive bars, drives to vegas, and hang glides when it's not too windy.

me, i like to sit at home with my shirt off and click through the innernet or watch television.

i like rum, she likes champagne.

she and i might be super excellent friends, but it wasn't a match made in xxx heaven.

when i was younger and more idealistic i used to think that all it took was desire and any girl could slightly change to fit my needs, or that i could change if only she would give me the chance.

but as ive grown ive seen that that's not what people should do.

the Good Lord has given us millions and millions of possibilities just in this city of angels. why try to change someone who is perfectly excellent already? and why would you change if you're pretty good yourself? why not accept the priceless gift of friendship and camaraderie and be grateful to have someone around who likes to go places with you and doesn't mind hanging out on your couch a lot either?

the babes who want to sit at home and bang you when they're not on the computer or trying on new lingerie will come knocking soon enough. trust me they will. they're out there, of course they are, do the math.

i have met girls who i don't think would make great girlfriends for me but we had an uncontrollable animal magnetism where we had to rip each others clothes off immediately and get down to business.

i have met girls who i liked to talk with on the phone, and then in real life there was no lust connection, but who would make great friends.

then ive met girls who i neither wanted to bang or bond with who could make the cover of any magazine around.

and ive also met girls who's hearts were so irresistible that i didn't care that they weren't into me, or that i wasn't into them, i knew it was right and i was pulled in like the tractor beam in Galga.

and a scarce few times i have met a young woman who was just as much into me, in every way, as i was into her. and our likes and dislikes matched, and our astrology matched, and our wants and needs matched, and gabriel blew his horn, and rip taylor threw his confetti, and the skies parted and the naked cherubs floated down strumming their harps while the spirits tossed rose petals.

in my 108 years, those spectacular matchups have happened 4 or 5 times. im way ahead in the game.

which might be a hint from the Creator that theres a reason for strong friendships with excellent people.

and its not just to have someone to whine to during the dry seasons.

me and karisa don't do much whining.

gets in the way of all the laughing.

thanks: to laura and carlisa who each flowed the busblog $5. gracias, senioritas!

# | |

me and karisa went to the troubador last night hopefully by now you know i have the greatest friends.

karisa just got back from a tour of new england and key west where she got her self a deep dark tropic tan. like she needed it.

we got to the show early. hardly anyone was there. we discussed the new sam adams label, we agreed that we don't like it one bit. why would you take the happy smiling proud sam off the label? karisa says its because people in cali don't want to see an old guy from beantown on the beer bottle.

i say i want to see him.

she says no one is like me.

i say no one is like her.

very few girls wouldn't bitch and just hide out in the back of the club analyzing the bartendresses many tattoos and smile and laugh and catch up as Jude hit his high notes and Pirner did what no musician should ever do live in concert: play every song from their new record while ignoring their glorious catalog of previous hits.

fucker.

asswipe cut his hair, lost his band, picked up the first three nice people that he could find, whipped out his trumpet, and proceeded to punish those of us who showed up at his show.

so me and karisa drank so many sams that they had to break into the ones way in the back of the walk in fridge, the ones with the classic olde labels, so we drank all of those too.

karisa has a funny way of making me want to do shots. when i say "let's do a shot." i usually mean, "let's have a shot of rum." karisa takes it as, "let's do a half dozen kamikazes."

so kamikazes it was.

she wore my favorite beastie boy tshirt, a long skirt, big boots and even though she said that she cut two inches off her hair it went way down her back. she looked better than ever.

me, i wore my favorite cubs shirt, olive cords and black vans.

im very lucky to have good friends who stick by me through thick and thin.

and its great when they can keep up with me at the bar.

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my man eric boso sent me this coupon and i put it on this blog because i like to give back to you, my friends.

don't know what to buy at half price?

may i suggest the best record that you don't have? tsar.

one of my friends say that i boss you around, my sweet internet readership. she says that thats why nobody flowed the busblog yesterday.

thats right, a shut out.

at this pace i'll only raise $500 of free money. whoa is me. if only i was a hot chick. if i was a hot chick i would sell my panties and make boatloads of moolah. i would sell my old shoes to the fetishists, i would sell handwritten erotica sealed with a lipsticked kiss sent in a perfumed envelope right to your dirty little barren mailbox.

i think thats why the good Lord made me a boy.

He wanted me to hustle for my free money.

fair enough, here's something that you wont see in any other blog, i bet.

Seven Word Concert Review by Tony Pierce:

Dave Pirner with opening act Jude
Troubador, West Hollywood
8/13/2002

We shoulda seen Kittie at the Whiskey.

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people often ask me what i do for a living and usually i say something obvious or predictable and that's because i like my privacy, as im sure that you like yours.

born to wealthy industrialists my trust fund was busting at its seams by the time that i graduated high school but instead of hanging around the suburbs of chicago, i high tailed it to the beaches of california the day after i received my diploma.

yes there were friends and family that i left behind, but for all of its values and realness and predictable charms, i felt stifled and oppressed by the underlying conservative overtones of daily life in illinois.

first thing i did was get a job. i had never had a job so the only place that would hire me was at mcdonald's. fine.

since that job i have had dozens, and i tell you right now, that job was the hardest that i ever suffered through.

three words: you have time to lean, you have time to clean.

i cleaned the toilets, the floors, the tables, the chairs, the parking lot, the grill, the fryers, the fences.

when the sun went down i took down the flag.

a month later they let me in the kitchen.

when you start in the kitchen you just don't get to start making big macs immediately. first they put me on the fried goods: the filet o' fish, french fries, and mcnuggets.

hard to fuck up dumping a bag of frozen stuff into grease and hitting a huge button. when the incredibly annoying beep starts blasting, hit the button again and lift up the "food".

if you were making filet o' fish, this would be a good time to put the buns in the toaster, when they were toasted, add a shred of lettuce and a squirt of sauce. wrap it up and tell juan you've got four filets up. he will say thank you.

everything was thank you.

tony, we need a bag of fries and then another bag of fries. thank you.

thank you, rudy.

once you got over to the grill they would say, gimme 12 burgers and 6 macs on the turn.

burgers required you to turn them over.

if you turned over a row of burgers, that usually meant that you were finished "dressing" the buns, and you were removing meat from the grill that was done.

which meant that there was now room on the grill which meant you could fill that with 8 quarter pounders with cheese, 12 burgers, or 6 macs.

i loved that fucking job.

for about 4 months. then i got burned out big time.

i did get the phone number of a sassy young mexican girl named jeannie.

i took her on a date in my cadillac. i had a cadilac that was willed to me from my dead rich industrialist grandmother.

jeannie was the first girl that i went on a date with in california and i was seventeen driving a caddy working at mcdonalds.

i cant remember what we did but kroq was playing the smiths "how soon is now" depeche mode's "master and servant" and wham's "wake me up before you go-go."

mtv played billy idol, bruce springsteen, prince and madonna.

a few of the fellas at the mcdonalds crew were excellent breakdancers and i told them they were so fucking stupid, but soon i bought some parachute pants, chinese karate shoes and a baggy newwave white muscle shirt, my black leather jacket had many zippers. i might have gone dancing with her at the Odyssey before it burned down.

i don't remember that date being bad, but i don't remember ever going out with her again.

anyhow i pulled my money out of the market after the first black monday hit in 87 when i was in italy on vacation unable to do a damn thing about anything. i put most of the cash into the innards of a stuffed mule and mailed it to the united negro college fund.

the rest i kept for myself put it into a savings account at 3%. the banker said bonds were safer and way more profitable for that size of a deposit. i said, at mcdonalds we had a saying that the customer was always right.

later i would take some of that money out of savings and buy the mcdonald's that once hired me.

currently im a substitute teacher for the la school district.

and i volunteer at the children's hospital down the street.

believe it or not, but they need people to hold the newborn babies. nurses used to handle this chore, but nowadays hospitals cannot afford their valuable time for such mundane tasks. so the volunteers sit in rocking chairs with masks and scrubs and little bottles and if ever i have experienced a win win situation its during those hours.

when im done i get back into my elvis outfit and panhandle out front of the mission.

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tonight im going to see Dave Pirner at the Troubador with a super cool chick. im lucky as hell.

that's plan a.

plan b is seeing Kittie at the Whiskey, and if there is a feeding frenzy of ticket scalping going on at the famous west hollywood club, then we'll turn a quick profit and head down the strip to see the three metal babes from canada.

i adore metal, which is why i liked the edge that Pirner's former band, Soul Asylum added to their sloppy Twin/Tone gems of days gone by.

when i first got into the Replacements i would get any record that was released from the minnesota indie label. so husker du, run westy run, the goo goo dolls, and soul asylum vied for my attention and of those bands, when i wasnt listening to the Mats, i would put on soul asylum, especially Hang Time, one of my favorite records ever.

when the Replacements moved over to Sire, soul asylum got booted from label to label finally ending up at Columbia where they put out grave dancers union with such hits as "runaway train" "black gold" and "somebody to shove."

it wasnt bad for a sellout. but it wasnt the diverse meaty switchback mayhem of "made to be broken" or "while you were out" or even "clam dip."

afterwards we're going to go into the desert and look at the meteor shower and listen to some mixed cds that i made and maybe talk about the middle east.

i hope dave still has his long hair, and his ripped clothes. im glad he lost his actress girlfriend from california.

i hope he didnt lose his ability to lay it down like so many others have who play their telecasters.

loving: blogcritics.com

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caption this, please

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people often ask me what i do for a living and usually i say something flippant or ridiculous and that's because i like my privacy, as im sure that you like yours.

but last night at work i met someone who recognized me from this blog and afterwards we went out for drinks and she convinced me that i shouldn't be so paranoid.

i play the piano next to the escalator on the second floor of a fancy department store near beverly hills.

there. i said it.

i got the job from the musicians union after the dot com laid me off.

i couldn't believe that i landed the job so quickly and easilly, but apparently professional musicians hate working at this particular department store because the belief is that even though the store has a spectacular reputation for customer service, the actual customers, however, have a notorious reputation for being demanding and rude and never satisfied.

in my interview i said that i don't mind loud, mean customers, in fact i prefer them, because at least they're telling you their problem. i said that i didnt like the quiet passive aggressive customers because then you can never fix their concerns.

the store manager seemed to like this and asked me to play "Piano Man" which i did and i was hired on the spot.

there is no tip jar atop my piano. i have to wear a tuxedo with tails. it's black. i don't sing. i don't banter with the customers. management prefers it if i just smile and nod and keep playing. by all means keep playing.

after a year of this gig i am getting a bit tired. people do shout requests as they ride upstairs, which i like to oblige. the kids are the worst though. all they know are nursery rhymes which are fun sometimes unless their hot moms try to use me as a babysitter, plopping their heirs at my piano for me to entertain.

its then that i go right into Debussy and scare the hell out of them. they start to cry, they leave, i go back to playing show tunes and smiling at the trophy wives.

because of our location we get a lot of tourists. i love tourists. probably because it reminds me of all the times that i got to travel to foreign lands. i have lots of patience when it comes to tourists because my heart is with them.

usually they request the Beatles, or Cole Porter, but sometimes they ask for obscure anthems from their homeland. when they ask and i don't know, i put on a sad face, pout my lower lip and break into "new york, new york" which usually distracts them.

people like to sing along.

god, do they ever.

most people cant sing. i cant sing. odds are you cant sing. who knows how to sing who's shopping for $45 polo shirts at 11am in a department store? nobody.

but people go for it anyway.

if i see that someone is singing i will slowly segue into an unsingable song like van halen's "jump" or zep's "stairway to heaven". the big boss doesn't like zeppelin, he says its devil music. he will give me a frown if he hears me playing "stairway" which i think is perfect being situated right next to an escalator. but these jokes, as subtle as they might be, are usually lost, and like the notes, float up up up and disipate into the central air.

ladies like to talk to me when i play. i think it's the tuxedo. i like the ladies. the older the better because they appreciate it the most. the younger ones are just lonely and need some. i don't have any to give them. im just trying to get my $15 an hour.

if an old lady seems sad i'll play something upbeat like "we're just wild about harry" or "bicycle built for two" or if i really want to go nuts, i'll play a flourishing version of "im coming out" by diana ross.

people fight in department stores. when they fight they pretend that no one can hear them. everyone can hear them. i certainly can.

"love will keep us together" is something i like to play when i hear couples fight.

ive been asked by management not to play that during those occasions, several times.

songs i wont play: "short people," "bring in the clowns," "yesterday."

the first will probably offend someone in the store. the other two usually make people cry. tears do not equal sales.

when it comes down to it im really only there to help stimulate sales.

and someone for the cosmetic counter gals to smile at.

hey good lookin

whatcha got cookin

so that's my job. everyone has one. if you see me you can smile.

please don't request "piano man" for even though it got me the gig, i have had to play it every day for passerbys and when i get depressed at work i like to bust into a little philip glass until people start shooting me looks.

but please don't stalk. or stare.

its not fair.

this post is dedicated to my girl anna who won in montreal yesterday 6-3, 6-1 in the canadian open over Saori Obata of japan in the first round.

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tony, do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?

i certainly do not!

very well, you may take a seat. state your age.

108.

date of birth?

10/22/1894

who did you vote for in the last presidential election?

nader.

nader?

like i would vote for bush?

what about gore?

he sleeps with the head of the pmrc!

the pmrc has very little power.

but they put stickers on cds.

so?

thats censorship.

no it isnt.

well, i dont like it.

how are you liking this shit we're wading in.

i dont like that either.

which do you like least, tony?

this shit we're wading in.

no further questions.

my bad.

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people say i have bad ideas. it's true, i do.

for charity, people should go door-to-door giving out kisses for a buck. how great would it be to hear a knock at your door, have a nice girl out there willing to kiss you if you gave her a buck for MS or some shit?

baseball, in order to give back to the community should have Win A Car Mondays. every monday you buy your ticket to the game, and during the 7th inning stretch a player reaches into the hopper and pulls out a ticket stub and announces the winner and someone drives home in a brand, new, car. if the average ticket price to a game is 8 bucks you'd only need to sell 3,000 more tickets on those Monday nights to cover the car. and if your team cant attract 3k fans who are solely interested in winning a new $24,000 car, you have serious issues. (also imagine how much beer, hot dogs, and crap an extra 3,000 fans will gobble.)

at least one presidential debate should be held on pay-per-view with the nominees hooked up to a lie detector. charge $20, give the proceeds to the 5 poorest public school systems in america. might just be the biggest pay-per-view event ever.

distribute free condoms in malls, gas stations, and at fast food drive thrus. people should be able to have sex without dying these days. free AIDS tests should be held in every hospital. hospitals can afford it. tell me they cant and i'll show you a lying hospital.

the first sunday of each month should be Fuckit Let's Be Cool day. after driving the freeways of LA for the last two weeks, i can tell you that this day is well over due. people should be required to give hugs, throw up the peace sign, and compliment others at least three times that day. maybe hand out little stickers that you can put on your clothes that say, "Someone Approved of Me," "A Stranger Thinks I'm Nice," or "Juan Thinks I'm Cute." Either design the stickers at home, or buy them in mass quantities at the liquor store. Then the rest of the month people can go back to ignoring each other and being pricks.

big time marketing companies should co-op space on popular blogs so that creative young eccentric personalities can buy a cadillac and hit the road traveling around this great country meeting strange and unusual peoples and kissing their daughters in the name of art.

either that or some middle of the road hotel or motel chain should pay me to drive around the country to personally review each property that they own while i secretly blog about america in my quest to find Miss Bloggy 2003.

shes out there somewhere, and im stuck here in hollywood,

alone.

suffering

miss bloggy-less.

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a long time reader of the blog frustrated with the unstable comments situation today, wrote me an email to let me know that she wasnt just lurking on my page, and wanted to share her dreams with me.

i was touched.

tony,

sweetheart. i just got back from maui where all i did was lounge by the pool, tearing through "dot con" and thinking how awesome your friends are. thanks for loaning that book to me. gawd!

i don't know my story. i am in a weird mood myself lately.

yes im sporting beautiful pink toe nail polish. skirts. open toed shoes.

i think its the planets.

and i really like my hair a lot better now that it is highlighted.

and it is good to be back.

and i missed you. and i missed l.a.

and i want to only do fun things now.

and i want to take kick boxing. and learn to play bass.

i want to go to tons of concerts and go out to fun restaurants.

i want to go ice skating and to the batting cages and to see the dodgers more.

i don't want to be bored and uninspired. i don't want to worry about money.

i don't want a baseball strike.

i don't want to miss my friends/family as much.

that is my story.

in a nutshell.

i also want cleaner boyfriends. they are so dirty that i don't know what to do with them!

i want to go to the formosa soon.

i want to dance more.

i want to drink less.

i want to swim in the ocean and to try surfing.

i want to eat lobster all day one day.

nothing but.

i want to eat lunch right now.

i am going.

i have to start somewhere!!! ;)

hasta!

p.s. i liked your interview with the model. is she for real or did you interview yourself? if its real it made me sad. no more sad things this summer. k?

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hey sara,

no i didn't read the article about baseball.

baseball is fucking with me and im in denial about it all. part of me wants them to strike because the cubs are out of it, and certainly another strike will rid us of the wicked witch of the midwest bud selig, and maybe some of the other terrible owners, and if we're lucky baseball will completely tank and go out of business for a few years only to be revitalized by new owners who actually care about the sport and its oh-so-forgiving and patient fans.

i do not see how strikes and threats of strikes are less-bad for the game than whether or not pete rose bet on baseball.

i do not see how gentlemen, most of whom came from less than fortunate circumstances, can take away entertainment from people who might not ever make $2.3 million in their lifetime, $2.3 mil being baseball's average salary.

i do not see how the president of the united states can allow the national pastime to stick its head up its ass in front of children and women as if alls good.

i do not see how every pundit, commentator, announcer, spokesperson, reporter, and broadcaster in baseball cant be yelling at the top of their lungs, "this is so much bullshit, this is so much bullshit, this is so much bullshit."

no, i don't read about "labor" disputes concerning baseball. i also don't read the obits, i also don't read about the war in the middle east, i also don't look at my bank account, or the police blotter, or the monthly health report of all the restaurants that were closed due to vermin. these things depress me and the only way that i can get up and walk to the subway station each morning is the belief that there is a reason to continue this grand parade. and i don't find that inspiration in gloomy news of greed, evil, and ignorance.

what makes me happy is when people leave comments, paypal my ass, fill out simple questionnaires, and take lil hikes with their wonderful spouses to newspaper offices of yesteryear and take pictures and write about it.

i really do have the greatest friends.

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chris came back from amsterdam on friday. she let me borrow her car for the two weeks that she was away.

i picked her up at the airport, spent the night at her place, then on saturday we went to my favorite movie theater (The Vista in Los Feliz) and saw "Signs".

i don't know why anyone wouldn't want to stay friends with their ex-girlfriends. it was so great to be able to hang out with her. she brought back many gifts from her travels for me. lots of chocolate. she has many stories that i wont reveal here about her trip, but needless to say, i would have loved to have traveled with her there.

so, "Signs" ... as you know i don't give away things in my movie reviews, so don't worry if you haven't seen it yet.

Howard Stern said that it was scary as hell. it wasn't what i would call scary as hell.

everyone is calling M. Night a genius. geniuses have great endings, and not many loose ends. M. Night has so many loose ends from this movie its bizarre.

i have typos and loose ends and mistakes and junk on this blog all the time, but it's a blog! i didn't spend $45 million bucks to make it. for if i had i would have spent like $30k to pay someone to clean up those mistakes especially if many of them are central to the main conflict.

people need to tell guys like M. and guys like Speilberg and Woody Allen and all the others that people call geniuses and someone needs to cough *bullshit* in the meetings from time to time because there is a huge amount of bullshit in this movie that made for an unpleasant experience for Chris, who called bullshit in The Sixth Sense halfway through that film.

oddly, as critical as i can be, not only did i enjoy the Sixth Sense, but i also enjoyed Signs, despite its gaping holes of believability or common sense. why? i don't know. M. Night hypnotizes me through his movies. the pace is so calm and light. he's very funny in this movie. lots of tiny little happy laughs. we like this family, we really like the kids even though they're more like adults than the adults are - which makes no sense.

do i recommend this movie? no. i would rent it, but i would really see it on an airplane. did i enjoy myself? yes.

but i might have just been really happy to be with my best friend, the girl i proposed to 15,000 times during the 1,500 days that we were together, whose hand still feels great in the airconditioned movie theatre on a hot summer afternoon.

much love to: rick, jody, george, and chuck for stoking the busblog

also, no need to be shy about my interview with the shy model. i stayed up late last night (3am) putting together that interview for you, yes you, the beloved reader of the blog. i should have been resting the wrists that are now tired and sore to begin the week.

what i'm saying is, its' okay to comment on the conversation. it might inspire more non-blog type things.

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http://anorexorcism.blogspot.com
meets http://www.tonypierce.com/blog/bloggy.htm

xxsosaxx: go back to page six, hit refresh
flagrant: who's that girl?
xxsosaxx: no idea
xxsosaxx: i steal pics from all over the web
flagrant: put somebody pretty there
xxsosaxx: ahahahaha
xxsosaxx: on page six?
flagrant: yes
xxsosaxx: hahahaha ok
flagrant: *blush*
xxsosaxx: any requests?
flagrant: an old pic of kate
xxsosaxx: wow, im so happy you liked the others of her then
xxsosaxx: i was afraid youd think it was cliche
flagrant: no, i love her
flagrant: i ate with her once
xxsosaxx: did you really eat?
flagrant: yeah
xxsosaxx: or poked at things
flagrant: it was, get this, mcdonald's
flagrant: no lie
xxsosaxx: yay!
xxsosaxx: what did you have?
flagrant: i remember i had a vanilla shake and she had a mcrib sandwich
flagrant: and she ate it like a starved cat

read more of the interview here

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