the art is back as per requested by coulter

so my request of him is, now, bring back the rock.

even while taking a hiatus, tsar is the best band in america.

and if i were to write something for blogcritics dot com, it would be to praise my friends of hollywood who delivered not just one great anthem on their self titled debut, but three: i dont wanna break up, calling all destroyers, and teen wizards.

thats the triple prong attack, ladies and gentlemen.

when you have the ability to release on the public three real life teen pop trash glam rock rock rock hits that could easily fit on any summer teen flick blockbuster why wouldnt you? hollywood records, owned by disney, have a few movies that come out to exploit these fine young gentlemen, dont they?

but, oh yeah, thats right, hollywood records has never broken a band in its history.

the closest thing they had, as infamous as it might be, were the insane clown posse, who, perhaps because of their sloppy and very public drop from the label, went on to sell millions overnight, cultivating an intensely bizarre cult following, which, unfortunately is slightly different from the conservative beliefs of the house of mouse who dont have any freaky frenzied fans themselves, of course.

hollywood records knows how to release movie soundtracks, but they wouldnt want to be tsar on any of those, not with tsar's spacy ambience and heartbreaking choruses.

save the soundtracks and monies and videos and world tours for bbmack, who, i keep hearing, play their own guitars!

cuddly And talented?

yes tsar looks gay sometimes.

but tsar isnt gay.

if i was a teen boy homophobic i would probably hedge my bets but trust me, theyre just doing that to get the ladies, see?

and strangely it works.

everyone needs to go download tsar, listen to it, and tell me truly what they think, in the comments.

i'd seriously like to know your opinons.

thank you.

# | |

things i learned this week by tony pierce

1. my esp is pretty good, i thought there was a disturbance in the tragic kingdom, and sure enough, ashley was finished with me.

2. say that Repulicans are racists, and suddenly they dont want to flow funds to the busblog (i was only just kidding, friends... mostly).

3. i do have the willpower to kick my dirty little smoking habit for a full work-week and not want to jump off a bridge.

4. being 108 years old means that you have to warm up every day before softball practice, not just a mere 30 minutes before.

5. carlisa and her sister are super cool and excellent softballers.

6. Toi Hollywood makes an excellent Tom Kha Kai, and its spicy when you demand the chefs to prepare it thusly.

7. The voters of American Idol are all teen white girls who dont wanna give a sista a break.

8. Rabbit can totally get away with only posting once a week to ten days and people still love her.

9. A. Beam can totally get away with not posting for weeks and weeks, and people still love h_ _.

10. Blogcritics.com is super rad without me and they should probably take my link off their left hand column.

11. I really don't have to be professional to be a paid journalist here in LA.

12. this chick is pretty fucking funny.

13. it's really awesome to have ken and matt back.

14. no-talent radio morning shock jock ripoff artists really can get fired for finally putting something interesting on the air.

# | |

Hi, National Scrabble Champ!

ferme la bouche, pussyass female dog.

pardon me, champ?

festering cur. rapscallion. whiner. fraud!

tap tap. is this thing on, im talking to you, fella.

yes, tony my ears are fine, my eyes are fine, my fingers are adroit my brain is alight, my soul is sick and my nose is awake, i can smell you from where you sit and your stench is quite droll and revealing, i am not impressed with your fiction, your page, your lies, your cries, your tears, your fantasies, your howls, your jests, your malaise, your pleas for monies nor the amount you receive. you get everything, mr. busblog, and nothing satisfies you. you are a big fat black hole, a fuck noir. you take and take and do not give. you type and spell poorly and use run-on sentences and you haven't updated your scrabble word of the day in several months now and you dare speak in my general direction? if i had a Zippo i would light a fart and blue flame your eyebrows off.

dude, what the hell crawled up your ass?

you disgust me. you have everything at your disposal, friends, money, fame, looks, heritage, soul, humor, spirituality, talent, virility, hair, masculinity, finesse, grace, endurance, wit, sarcasm, deception, girth, resiliency, courage, innocence...

i wouldn't say girth.

tony, i haven't been with a woman that i haven't had to pay for in over 45 years.

friend, we all pay one way or another.

still...

do you have any idea how much Diet Coke ashley drinks? or my phone bills? i have to win this weekend's $115 million lottery jackpot just to break even!

touche, but i stand by my argument that you should not be holding any pity party while you still have stank on your pinkie.

being scrabble champ doesn't help you pull?

negatory.

maybe its that winning attitude.

i will not be your whipping boy, mr. pierce, and i refuse to be the butt of your so-called comedy. i just want you to know that theres a million men out there who would trade places with you in a new york heartbeat and you need to remember that before you type up your screams off the balcony for it falls upon deaf ears and only makes you appear selfish, unappreciative and morose.

ok, buddy, the thing is...

the name's Joel.

ok, joel, with your vocabulary i bet you could talk up a girl real good. women can be wooed by their ears. and if you can win these tournaments more often--

they're only held once a year.

then what you need to do is just set up a table in the park like the chess guys do and challenge people to games.

no one dares play me.

then make up quickie games, like "10 minute Scrabble Game $10" you could make $60 an hour.

ahem, that is against the International Scrabble Rules, also I do not gamble at Scrabble, also as a Quality Assurance Manager for Raytheon I make upwards of $75 an hour, before overtime, of which I get plenty.

fine, joel, fine. so you have money, you know your way around the dictionary, just go out with a woman, woo her with that crazy charm of yours, have her close her eyes, and start talking dirty to her. the chicks love dirty talk.

perhaps you have a point there, tony.

that's what im here for.

well, i might give it a try.

you know, sometimes, joel, you just have to say what the fuck.

ive been saying wtf for a long time, tony, although not in that context.

maybe you should try.

seven letter triple word scores to you, my new friend.

right back at you, nerd of the week.

hey would you put up that picture of meesh when you post this, i know you're going to post this, you're going to post this, aren't you?

i would be more than happy to put up the picture of meesh. it was nice of her to send me the image, i wouldn't want to be as selfish as you suggest.

spectacular! ok, bye!

# | |

meesh emailed me some self portraits to cheer me up, she says shes having a good hair day. i dont think that girl has ever had a bad hair day in her life.

women have the strangest ideas about things. i will never understand why it is that they make themsleves up so that other women will approve. i will never understand this whole obsession over weight. or the Golden Girls.

but maybe i will one day, and im sure that if i do i can credit it to the likes of my pals kitty and sk smith (pictured) who were kind enough to post a super long chat they had the other day where they go through a laundry list of topics that starts with a dead hamster and concludes with sarah being called a "flatassed white girl."

i have had the pleasure of taking in the passing glance at both of these young ladie's posteriors-- it was a glance, dan, i swear-- and of the two, kitty has no grounds to call any other white girl flatassed, she is one of the skinniest girls around.

anyway, the only thing better than two old chums sharing their insights, is two super cool super smart very attractive young women being silly making up words and talking about underwear shopping.

back to meesh, our friends at pantrogsblog on monday posted a very nice unreleased picture of the reigning Miss Oxnard on an incredibly good hair day

now that the carpal is healing i might actually get to doing a review of links that i missed during the week and posting them on the weekends.

yeah, just what i need, more shit to do on saturday.

# | |

the hard part about dating killer girls is that it kills when they leave you.

ashley came over last night cuz i wasn't answering her calls or her emails and when she called me at the xbi the operator wouldn't let her through until she remembered that i didn't really work there.

"there is no tony pierce that works here," the operator said.

"i know he works there, oh, sorry Sonny I. LaVista, this is so stupid, may i speak to Agent LaVista then. aaaahhhh!" ashley sighed. she thinks its all a game.

"hello?" i said. no one calls me at work.

"hi avoider," she said.

me and ashley had very few fights during our year and a half together. if we did they got settled pretty fast. the key to fighting with me if you're a chick is to hold my hand and take me to the bed room and hold me and make me whisper. otherwise it will be nuclear war. and lord help you if you try to fight with me via email. you've never seen such writing.

so ashley got in her new car, took the 405 at 5pm, over to the 710, over to the 101, exited at the secret offramp and made it up to my bachelor pad in the griffith park hills right as the pizza guy was leaving. she had on a super short miniskirt, ponytails and a bellyshirt. he said, "are you coming to see tony?" she said yeah. he said, "shit, can i join you guys?" she said the right thing, which was, enjoy the fat tip im sure he gave you. and knocked on my door.

after a few minutes we were cuddling on my couch watching my favorite show, hbo's behind the scenes look at the despised dallas cowboys in training camp, a few minutes after that we were doing things they don't show on hbo, and an hour after that she was saying that all of that was a mistake, and that's when i knew it was really over between us.

it had been too much of me pushing her away and being cold on the phone and distant and semi-rude. i was always sweet whenever we would be together but it was hard for me to open up every night on the phone because i didn't want to lead her on and i wanted her to be open to other guys and now that she found a vegas boy who paid attention to her, i suppose she felt confident enough to get rid of me, her backup boy.

"i just don't feel the same," she told me. "i love you, but i don't looooooooove you anymore."

in 108 years of rock n roll, ive heard that one before. perhaps you have heard it too. i oughtta make a fucking tshirt.

i know im not the easiest person to be with. it's all fun and games at the beginning, but i can be confusing. i don't try to be. sometimes i get scared. and for the most part ashley did just what babes should do, just kiss me and say, "i know tony is really in there, im gonna rub your lamp and wait for the genie to come out. oh, i see something is stirring, not sure if that's a genie or not."

probably the thing that did me in was her relationship with her first boyfriend ever. shes so idealistic about it. they both love the same music and a lot of the same ideals and when i was twenty i thought that it was those sorts of extraneous similarities that make a relationship work, but now i know it's super basic generalities like: are you into me, do you want me, can you talk to me, do you trust me, do you want this to work out?

if both people are like, hell yeah, to all of those, All of them, then it doesn't matter if shes into rock and you're into rachmaninoff, the differences will be good things and you'll make beautiful music together.

of those things i think the two most important are trust and communication.

trust, not like, "is this person gonna bang the next ho who says he's cute," but trust meaning, "i don't really understand that theory, but i'll go with it, cuz he seems to believe in it."

often i think that relationships are like spelunking in a super dark jaggedy cave filled with sleeping monsters. do you want to get out of there? do you want to enjoy the journey? are you into talking each other through it? do you trust that the other person knows what the hell they're saying when they say "50 feet ahead is a hole, when you feel the slime jump as far as you can in the dark to the right"? and are you sure you want to be doing this with me?

i totally enjoyed jumping through he murky darkness after the slime in the dark with the daisy girl from another world.

a few weeks after breaking up with chris i took a flight to vegas to meet ashley for the first time and i was scared to death that the nineteen year old glittergirl would not at all be into me. i can be somewhat entertaining on paper, or in a chat, and sometimes on the phone, but in real life i don't have any cue cards, writing staff, or delete button to help my shit out, it's just me.

she was a blonde glow. a poof of hair and smile and cuteness and girlieness for days. it was ten pm when i picked her up at her daddy's house and she was as bright as the sun running out of that mansion and into my rental car. i shoulda brought my sunglasses.

weezer's "dope nose" came on as we left the second security checkpoint of her gated community and headed towards the dairy queen and normally i don't eat very much, but i remember not eating hardly anything because ashley looked so much better in person than in her pictures, which was shocking since she had given me hundreds of pictures during the four months that we had been chatting.

am i happy that shes moving on with her life?

of course.

do i secretly hope that she will figure out that you can love someone and not looooooooove them and be able to come over some dark and stormy night and molest them in their sleep with the christmas lights flashing and the boom box blasting and the books falling off the shelves?

what do you think?

did i cry last night? did i ask her nice to spend the night with me, no monkey business, even though it meant that she would have to wake up at 6am to make it back to the orange curtain to get to her new job? was she sweet enough to say yes even though she hates waking up any time before 2pm?

am i still the luckiest man in the world?

well for the answer to that question, and many more, i guess you'll have to stay tuned.

same dork time.

same dork channel.

# | |

props to kurt who stoked the busblog exactly $6.66 in the name of Ozzy, and i can get behind that.

In fact, I invite each of you to be as kurt, how many people can we get to donate $6.66 before the month is over? my guess is six.

a gentle reader wants to know some questions about the Replacements, specifically "why did they name their record 'Tim'?" and "whats up with the crazy graphics on the cover of 'Tim'?"

he also questions why i would include the lyrics of "kiss me, on the bus" on this hallowed page, and is curious to why a lot of mats fans love that song so much.

i dont know why they named it Tim
i dont know whats up with the graphics, i suppose you gotta put something on the cover
i included the song lyrics of that tune because this is the busblog, and that is a great lil diddy about being on a bus.
and i think that fans like that song so much because it's sorta sweet.

also, for all the people who liked the words to "If Only You Were Lonely" you can download the mp3 here.

this just in from my man Russ who writes:

Tony,

Love your blog, but can't flow you a buck at the moment so I'll pass on this small tip.

The thing to get at Foo Chow is Fried Eel. Most of their food isn't so hot, but the Fried Eel rocks. It is a regional delicacy from the (who'da guessed it) Foo Chow area of China near Taiwan. Also, the Mu Shu pork is decent. The rest of the dishes are well... you've been there.

Russ

# | |

The Replacements
Tim
Sire Records

"Kiss Me, On the Bus"

On the bus, that's where we're ridin'
On the bus, O.K., don't say hi, then
Your tongue, your transfer,
your hand, your answer

On the bus, everyone's lookin' for it
On the bus, I am lookin' for it
And everything ain't O.K.
I might die before Monday (I might drive home one day?)
They're all watchin' us

Kiss me on the bus
Kiss me on the bus
If you knew how I felt now
You wouldn't act so adult now
Hurry, hurry, here comes my stop

On the bus, watch our reflection
On the bus, I can't stand no rejection
C'mon, let's make a scene
Oh, baby, don't be so mean
They're all watchin' us
Kiss me on the bus
Kiss me on the butt

# | |

the best kept secret of hollywood is the Sunset Junction street fair held each year near the end of the summer.

last year Tsar played and Elliot Smith and some other bands whom i dont remember because this street fair goes really long into the night and the roads are closed and the freaks come out and if theres a party where they have ferris wheels, henna tattos, clowns on stilts, and chicken on a stick then im in.

plus this is a street fair in hollywood, friends. the amount of people-watching is unmatched, and that goes for any street fair in america, and ive been to them all.

this year the headlining musical acts include Sonic Youth and Mudhoney on Saturday and Sleater-Kinney and Pansy Division on Sunday. I think Mary Wells and Chaka Kahn will also be performing, but since Los Angeles only has one newspaper, and its online arm only bothered to give a one paragraph pre-write on the coolest happening this weekend, then i may have to rely on you, my good readers, to clue us all in via the suddenly barren comments section.

Sunset Junction: $6 "donation" - thats what im doing this weekend.

# | |

i know i might come across as a tough guy with no feelings, no heart, no pride, impenetrable, filled with insight and joie de vive with telephones ringing all night so much so that the batteries die forcing the girls to drive to the bachelor pad, use their master key and climb in bed with me in the wee hours startling me and then soothing with a gentle caress and sleep-inducing hug.

but it's not like that all the time.

sometimes i do get hurt and i sleep alone and i don't pick up the phone and i wake up hot chickless with a saki hangover a sore quadricep and too many radios blaring commercials with only the solace of a tall glass of pulp free minute maid and the promise of a long hot shower to the dulcet sounds of led zeppelins "your time is gonna come" flowing from the sony sports boom box and my tears like the sand of last nights softball game slide down the drain of the yellow painted bathtub collect in the sewers of hollywood and parade into the deep blue pacific where they belong.

i don't like to be treated as second best.

especially when i was always there for you.

its not easy to live my life and ive been rejected now some half dozen times this summer and im glad its fall.

all year long i look forward to the summertime but what for when we all live in southern california where it never rains and only the pages turn on the calendar while the weather stays exactly the same.

i don't like being said maybe to while they pretend that the maybe part of the maybe actually exists. maybe i'll get this proposal done this week, maybe i'll clean up my closets, maybe my dreams will come true, maybe my princess will come.

maybe is the lie that the devil whispers when you look from the stands at the cheerleader girl who may or may not have a date to the dance and at halftime you build up the courage to approach her next to the grandstands while the marching band plays and you ask her if she'll go with you.

maybe is the lie that she tells you.

and i have no idea why i want to be seen as number one on the lineup card playing shortstop and always given the green light to steal, but i want that and i feel i have earned it and if i haven't i will steal it back rightfully or i'll join the yankees and make you wish you'd never dissed me.

# | |

took the 20 to santa monica yesterday after work west down wilshire. the 20 line is the one where the busdriver was spit on two weeks ago by a chap who then tried to climb aboard a week later. the bus driver wouldn't let him on. driver said, don't you remember me? you spit on me last week. rider hops atop the bicycle rack on the nose of the bus and the driver floors it. needless to say the man falls off the bike rack hits the street, bus rolls over him splitting him in half. payback is a mofo. fucked up thing is the bus driver will probably do 15-20 for murder two.

i got off on sepulveda, walked south past me and chris's old apartment, past santa monica blvd, past sports club la where the beemers and escalades and turbo benzes get valeted and the stars do their pilates. next door is sportmart where i exchanged my too tight softball pants for pinstriped perfectly fitting baseball pants.

walked back to santa monica blvd, caught the big blue bus #1 (now just 75 cents) to bundy to transfer to the 14, check the little sign that tells you the times the bus will arrive, and i see that it's past 730pm and no more busses will arrive, so i flag down a taxi and tell him "sunset and barrington" and excuse myself as i change into my baseball pants and cleats.

i don't know what country my taxi driver is from, but when i asked him how his day is going he looks at me like thats the stupidest fucking thing i could have ever asked him, and i blow it off thinking its a 5 minute ride from santa monica blvd and bundy to the softball park in brentwood.

wrong.

mohammed decides to take a huge fucking loop around brentwood, hitting wilshire, creeping towards westwood village where i tell him to take a left on sepulveda along side the veterans cemetary making the crazy loop onto sunset.

when we finally arrive the meter says $17.25, i say, "that's nice, but that was a $10 fare, tops" i hand him a $20 and tell him to give me $7 back. he apologizes and hands me my change.

i take a taxi about once a month. i figure i don't pay a car payment or insurance or gas. now that i'll never have to rent a car again to see ashley, if i ever see her again, i can "splurge" and hail a cab a few times a month and still be way ahead. but what do you do when the cabbie completely goofs while keeping the meter running?

hopefully this entry shows you what you should do. and if it worked for me, a guy with baseball pants on, im sure it will work for you.

got to the field and carlisa and her sister were there. such great people. we won our game, they both played excellently, broke a few hearts, and then they decided that they wanted to go to Rock n Roll Thai - Toi Hollywood near sunset and vine. they ask if i want to join them. accompany two super hot fun sisters for thai food and beer and saki in a restaurant that plays excellent punk rock and stays open till 2am?

sure, why not.

we shared larb, pad thai, tom kha kai (xtra spicy), killer brown rice, and some glassy noodle chicken stuff that was completely uninspired, but we drank and laughed and drank and ate and drank and talked about their new business, Pink Cookies, and carlisa said that any of my readers who want to order custom tshirts, sweatshirts, etc. just mention the busblog and she'll give you a special rate on her already low low cost.

pink cookies is the official designer of the xbi softball team jerseys. which is why we will look so badass.

# | |

caption this, please

# | |

me and lily eat lunch every day when im not on a stake out. the carpal has prevented me from being in the field which is retarded if you ask me because typing up paperwork and writing to you really isn't helping my condition. but whatev.

the queen of fashion sensibilities, lily is a dispatcher for the xbi. she is our eyes and ears when the shit is going down. she has police radios, satellite surveillance, shes monitoring the bugs, she's coordinating the agents, she's organizing and communicating to a dozen people at any given time, and she does it so effortlessly its truly amazing.

she and i are both libras, and i know that i can come across as mr. cool under pressure guy, but sometimes i do get scared out there. not scared about myself cuz i don't give a fuck, but scared about for the victims or the soon-to-be victims in some cases, and i feel that if i don't do my job right that i will indirectly either get them killed, shot, or mutilated in some way. so she has the best way of soothing my nerves.

she'll turn off all the crosstalk into my earpeice and just start talking about rock music.

the last time i was out there deep deeeeeeeeeeep in the shit and alone cuz my new partner was lost, fuckhead, she started whispering in my earpeice about the leader of Redd Kross steve mcdonald's newest project of covering the White Stripes's new record song by song.

i coughed once which means "negative" or in this case "bullshit" and she said no, no, its true, he does every song adding bass to the guitar/drum attack and he has it available for free download on the redd kross website and has called the project Redd Blood Cells, which, of course is a play on the title of the White Stripes cd which is called "White Blood Cells"...

her voice and her topics are always soothing to me. i need a bit of distraction because most of the time i am doing things that no grown man should be doing, and sometimes i have to just stop thinking about it and just do it and her stories, like that one, were inspiring to me.

especially after she finishes by saying, "see if steve mcdonald has the chutzpah to add bass to a perfectly good cd, great cd, if you ask me, then you can bust down that door and save that near-death woman and her family."

the door in question was a foot thick and no one knew what was behind it. all the kings horses and all the kings men and none of our toys could tell me if it was bad guys behind there, or her and her family, or a nice fat booby trap, or a hungry pit bull, or a one way ticket to hell via a shotgun.

but since i am here typing this to you... or am i? then i suppose you know that everything went smoothly and sometimes it is okay to underestimate your enemy because theyre uneducated punks and we're professionals who do this shit for a living.

as i was driving everyone home, i wondered if Redd Blood Cells was just a beautiful lie because if it was not, why hadn't i heard about it through Kate Sullivan's Rock Blog, which i adore, since she is the number one White Stripes fan that i know? and then i remembered it might have been because she's busy ruling the galaxy and helping add to the already potent posse over there at the LA New Times, who are seriously giving the LA Weekly a run for its money.

anywho, i like the picture of Lily above because it shows how different we are, she is very very asian, loving the sushi and coke out of the can which she prudently brings from home, and i am the undereating american who barely touches his meals chosing the store-bought sandwich and fountain drink.

later lilly leaked that lennat tipped her off about the redd blood cells dealio and deserves all the credit and none of the blame.

# | |

"alabama whirly" writes in and says:

Sorry I am just catching up with your blog. I have been reading Weeks of your writing each day and now im all caught up. Praise Be to the Archives. :)

I will read books by anybody. I like to go to Border's (do they have those in Los Angeles?) and just curl up with my decaf cap and read Jackie Collins or Tom Robbins or whatever strikes my fancey. And I must tell you Tony Pierce I do not know how you are not a published writer! Sometimes I think that you are really tuned in and sometimes I think you are so insightful and how is it that you don't have any books out? Why do you just give it away? And please, why do you like Howard Stern? Someone as cultured and educated as you come across being surely can't admire someone as crass and blatantly offensive as him? ugh.

But I forgive you because you make me laugh. And even though I am not 20 years old (sorry about Ashley, she is a cutiepie) I think you would find me attractive (most men do) but so few can make me laugh. You could teach my male friends a lot. You make me laugh out loud all the time. Keep up the great work. I tell anyone I can about you. I am so new to this whole "Blog" world, so forgive me if it's "uncool" to ask these types of questions, but please explain your appreciation to HS.

Thank you for all your hard work, I hope you get discovered soon.

- Alabama (My favorite character from the movies "True Romance".)

****

dear alabama,

i liked that movie too. and probably not for the same reasons as you, i liked whoever that chick was who played her, i liked her sorta messed up teeth.

as for howard. first off, you don't need to apologize for asking any questions. and lots of people email me and ask me about these things so its cool.

other than his adoration of lesbians, which most men share, and his completely refreshing honesty, i like howard because i relate to him. i have never felt all that good-looking, and i love that howard can have girls like him because he's funny. ive never understood why women like that, but it's great to see it in action.

i also like him because he has the job that i would love to have. he gets to get on the radio and tv every day and just talk to people in his little dark cave clubhouse. and when i mean talk, he gets to dig down very very deep into their very personal lives and go for it. he never seems nervous about asking those questions. im sure he is sometimes, but he never shows it.

there used to be a time when he would just go off and yell at people who deserved it. i loved that because i could never do that. i especially like it when he yells at his boss. not even at my old job where i hired my boss could i yell at her. i love that he's self-effacing, that he was a very loyal husband of 20(!) years, and now he's been a loyal boyfriend for 2.5 years.

i love that he gets bands to play in his studio, that he likes trashy tv like American Idol, and that he's a recluse in real life and just likes to hole up in his apartment after work. i can totally relate.

i love how loyal he is to his co-workers. he's been with that core group for nearly his whole career. Jackie the Jokeman left this year over a money dispute and everyone says that Jackie was asking for way way way too much. i think he was offered a million and he wanted a million and a half. some say howard gets $15 million so maybe jackie was right to be pissed, but he sure aint making a million now.

but i think the most underrated thing about howard is that he has a strange knack for making the most unlikely people into big stars, starting with Stuttering John, to Beetlejuice, to Hank the Angry Drunken Dwarf, to a list of other semi-retarded people who he laughs at And with, who are now far more successful thanks to howard seeing something interesting in them. anyone can take celebrities and make them interesting, but how he does that with guys with cancer and stutters is fascinating.

i like how he has guys "evaluate" girls who say they want to be in Playboy - it's American Idol but with bodies instead of voices. he has this guy who is much harder on the girls than Simon is on the singers. it's funny, and its more telling, actually about what some guys think about women as opposed to showing the flaws of the aspiring models. when Ralph takes a laser pointer to a totally smoking hot girl and says, "see that right above your hip bone, that teeny little buldge, do some squats and get rid of that." what it means to me is that ralph is insane and it also means that some guys are really that insane too. but what's sadder is that ralph still gets lots of girls which means that lots of girls love that sort of scrutiny! psycho.

the best parts of howards interviews on celebrities is not the questions that he asks, but how the celebs answer them. some get pissed off. rarely does this happen, but its fun to watch them squirm. some just play along. like dustin hoffman just totally plays along and it was fun. some spill their guts like kelsey grammer, who i never liked until he got on howard and was totally totally honest. howard had Rosanne on and he called up Tom Arnold and they started fighting. that was classic.

he had on one of Hef's girlfriends and was asking her about having sex with Hef and she didnt know how to lie about it which showed us all that she really wasn't having sex with hef. do you know how great that was for me? it made me think, fucking a, if hugh hefner, who is putting this chick up in the playboy mansion, giving her all the money she wants, buying her all the clothes, taking her everywhere, cant get this girl to have sex with him, then its not so bad when i cant score a babe. infact i really like hef more that he lets her stay his girlfriend cuz it means that he really just likes watching movies with her and hanging out with her.

i also like that howard is open with his feelings. he used to get sad a lot. i never really believed that if you had a bunch of money and a good job that you liked and you were good at that you would be sad. and i think his marriage made him sad, and somehow that made me feel better about my life.

hope that answers some of the questions for you.

photo by kitty b., an outtake from her trip to Trashy Lingerie's movie casting call.

# | |

chatted with my little brother last night. i haven't talked to him in a long time. im a terrible brother.

i asked him if he read my blog. he said, yeah, every day. he's a good kid.

i asked him what he liked and what he wanted to see more of. he said he liked the anna stuff and he wanted to see more of my real life. he said he wanted to see like photo essays of an average day in my life.

i told him my life isn't nearly as exciting as he thinks.

he said, come on, summer is over, how many girls did you sleep with this summer.

i said, one, two, three, four, five, six. but i only had sex with four.

he said, right there! write about that.

i said, no way, people wouldn't understand. its not as easy as that. people would be confused. im still confused. plus, numbers lie.

so last night i was talking on the phone with my first girlfriend ever, mary, who ive known since i was 15. we were having a great conversation and now that she's going through a divorce i could finally tell her that i still love her and ive always loved her, and i always will love her.

while she was married i never felt comfortable telling her that because, well, i wouldn't want some dude saying that to my wife if i was married.

plus, i mean it in a sweet way, not in an oh my god, my life is miserable without you way.

her voice still makes me melt. and it is great to have such a great honesty with someone who was raised a mile away from me and shares lots of the same very midwestern beliefs.

in the middle of it karisa came over to return my battery charger for my camera that was left in her truck. she had just run through the hollywood hills, she had a sweatshirt on, running pants, and a longsleeve shirt tied around her waist, hair was pulled back and i have to tell you, even in that state she is incredibly beautiful. it's amazing.

so hopefully she is going to live up to her promise of going to Best Buy so i can return this mavica that ive had for a while and exchange it for a better one because i think the camera sucks. what shes gonna do is go in there with me and im gonna say, see this hot girl? look at the crappy pictures that this expensive camera takes of her. and i will take a picture, it will suck, and hopefully Best Buy will swap us out.

in the meantime, above is a picture from the His & Her Hair store on Wilshire that i walk past on my way to work each day.

didnt smoke for the third day a row.

no fucking problem.

peter flowed the busblog $2, which is real great since we've been shut out for the last few days. thanks peter!

# | |

The Replacements
Boink
Miraclo/Glass Records

"If Only You Were Lonely"

Well, I walked home from work
And I was tired as hell
Another day's come and gone and oh well
Somewhere there's a drink with my name on it

Well, I ordered a scotch as I bust through them doors
Spilled half on my jeans
The other half on the floor
When I saw you standing by that video game

Well, I ain't very good
But I get practice by myself
Forgot my one line
So I just said what I felt

If only you were lonely,
If only you was lonely too,
If only you was lonely
I'd go home with you

Twenty push-ups this morning, that was half my goal
Tonight I'll be doin' pull-ups
On the toliet bowl
And somewhere somebody's throwin up

Well, I broke the seal on my door
And I poured myself to bed
The whirlpool spinning around in my head
There was liquor on my breath
And you were on my mind

And I'll be dreamin of that smile
Without a care in the world
If only you were lonely,
If only you was lonely too,
If only you was lonely

I walked out of the kitchen
I was tired as hell
Another day's here and oh well
Somewhere there's a smile with my name on it.

# | |

hey tony down here. my name is jacques, the headless warrior of xi'an.

two thousand years ago i was an army guy for emperor qin, a man who i think you would have liked a great deal.

very loving and friendly and a bit wacky, he wanted to honor his men and instructed the most famous sculptors to cast our bodies in terracotta making sure that our faces and bodies were exactly as they were at the time the Christ was alive.

he took those lifesized sculptures and had his men arrange them all around his tomb as if we were to protect him for eternity.

i guess no retirement plan for us, huh? hehe. yeah, ok.

in 1974 there was a terrible drought in Xi'an, the city had once been the center of culture, politics and religion but all of that had since moved over to Peking.

anyhow, two farmers, digging for water stumbled across one of the warrior sculptures and after the archeologists finished counting, they unearthed over 6,000 completely unique army men most of whom were in primo condition.

most of the scientists assumed that my head was missing due to nature and the pressure of rock and dirt over two centuries, but it's not so. i was decapitated for being a pussy ass sally getting all heartbroken over a sweet little lass from bejing named roxanne.

i wept and wept over her for years and finally i was approached by the commander of my squadron who asked me if i was sad. i said very much. he said do you wish to die? i said the pain is terrible. he said if i chop off your head will you be happier? i said, i don't know how worse off i could be. so he unsheathed his sword and sliced off my head and i went back to protecting the emperor.

we have many paths that are available to us, prince of bloggyland, at each step we can enter the woods or stick to the straight and narrow. the woods can be dark and lush and mysterious and dangerous. they can also contain some of the ancient treasures and lost wonders that will only be discovered by the strong and adventurous.

the woods also contain fierce beasts, quicksand, malaria, hungry hungry hippos, and vermin of enormous size and courage.

however, sometimes dumb luck can bring about grand tidings like what that dumbass farmer found and now he signs autographs and poses for pictures with australian tourists while smoking a pipe.

choose wisely. the fates have smiled on you in many ways. although i know you have the courage to tame the jungles, its my advice to stick to the beaten path as luck is your middle name and no one can turn a dunghill into a three ring bonanza of earthly delights like you can.

now move along, i think i heard roxanne's sweet laugh.

# | |

hi drugs and alcohol

you rang?

me? no.

oh, thought you did.

no, wrong tony.

youre the one who's teenage princess doesnt want you any more, right?

temporarilly.

wow, youre really in denial and youre not even drunk yet.

just trying to stay positive.

haha. yeah, good luck on that one.

its not easy. but im a libra. we bounce back pretty fast.

let me ask you this, what would your hero do?

Jesus? probably pray. then do the math, that theres 3 million people in LA, half are women, half are the right age, half of them are hot. half of them are available.

so like 125,000 single hot babes in LA?

not counting orange county.

yeah, you probably shouldnt count that county, since now theres one more available babe there.

are you trying to make me depressed?

who, us? depressants? what about your other hero, charles bukowski, what would he do?

drink.

he would, wouldnt he?

then maybe go to a three dolla ho.

didnt he always seem happy?

in a drunken bum loser homeless man way, yes.

and isnt there a lesson there for you?

yeah, kill yr idols.

she doesnt want you anymore.

most girls dont.

she'd rather get sloppy with a teenboy.

finally she listened to me.

theres no hot chicks in LA who want you.

none?

you tell me, when was the last time you got any?

this weekend.

liar.

i shit you not.

a fluke, im sure.

arent they all?

dont you want some rum?

yes, please.

dont you want some sticky green bud?

definatley.

how about some x?

no fun doing x without someone you can kiss.

how about some pain killers?

they make me dizzy.

how about a nice cold frosty one at a strip bar?

i have to save up for aruba.

taking a hot chick?

i was gonna suprise ashley.

nuh huh.

yeah.

god, that sucks.

yeah.

so what are you gonna do?

im gonna ask this sweet girl at work for her number.

but youre having terrible luck, she wont give it to you.

50-50 chance.

how do you figure?

she'll either say yes or no.

no, she might not like guys, she might not like black guys, she might not like you, she might be taken, she might have aids, she might like guys with cars, she might...

50-50 chance. plus she smiles at me in the halls. 75% chance.

if she says no wont you be crushed?

listen, nothing is worse than someone who really really really knows you rejecting you. if someone who doesnt know you rejects you, theyre just rejecting the outside part, the facade, my facade isnt all that impressive.

well, we'll be here if things dont work out.

thanks, drugs and alcohol. you do smell good. what is that?

armeretto.

i love armeretto.

and humbolt purple haired chronic.

wow, you must be expensive.

didnt you say yesterday you found $60 in a book?

yeah.

thats how much a bag costs.

when did you get so expensive?

you call that expensive, that's like a month's worth. $60 is like a couple round of drinks at a bar.

and no hangover.

and you must want to smoke something since you are kicking the habit and all.

trading one addiction for another, nah, no thanks.

you really are a boring ass midwestern christian boy, arent you?

i guess so. never thought of that.

ok, well good luck with the sweet nice girl.

thanks devil water and narcotics!

we love you, by the way.

you do?

yes, very very very very much.

youre so sweet.

yeah. k, bye.

# | |

well it looks like the daisy princess is through with me. she called to tell me that she had a good time in vegas, she met a boy, she kissed him, he kissed her back, he needed a ride to anaheim for a big shindig his church group was putting on, he plays guitar, hes her age, he knows some of her best friends...

and the rendevous that she planned with me that could have happened yesterday, but was ixnayed, and that could have happened tonight now has a relatively low percentage of happening.

am i bummed out?

yes.

am i surpised?

no.

ashley is a wonderful girl who has a lot more to offer than just a smile that will light up a room. we've been super close for going on a year and a half now and she was there when i needed her the most.

shes got terrific friends, great sisters, and an energy that is unmatched.

she has never failed to make me feel incredibly special and super lucky. to her, our age difference was never an issue. even though she says that she never thought that she would ever date a centenarian, she says that i am the exception to pretty much all rules.

i will miss her a great deal.

next to me, not one person has been mentioned or featured on this blog or on my site more than she. regardless of what anyone says about their being more of her on here or less, without her and without her influence on me, this whole thing would be quite different, and i cant say it would be better.

i wish her the best of luck with her man.

in other news, i found $60 in a book this morning.

if this were isla vista, i'd buy a keg.

maybe i'll buy one anyway.

# | |

everyone likes my writing and my blog until the "laser" is pointed at them.

i can understand that.

im a huge George Carlin fan. I think he's brilliant. But i wince whenever he attacks religion, especially Christianity.

But if i stood up at his concert and started yelling at him when he made those cracks, i'd look like an imbecile.

Perhaps I should say, i'd look like *more* of an imbecile, because his act, just like this blog, is a means for one man to express himself in public for the entertainment of a crowd.

Nothing will be accomplished on this page, trust me, no matter how long i continue to keep this thing afloat.

Just like no lives have been changed at The Laugh Factory, i seriously doubt that any beliefs, attitudes, or habits will be changed from reading my unlearned diatribes.

at best, i get flowed some greenbacks, or perhaps a young girl will want to do me.

c'est la vie.

I talk out of my ass and i do it better than most of the jackholes who get paid to do it on fishwrap across the country which is why a few of you are here.

check the facts? what facts? the facts are i have opinions, i state them during the 15 minute breaks that the government requires all workers to have, then i go back to my fascinating life of grading jewels here in my rodeo drive diamond shop.

i hardly doubt that any serious lawmakers even pay much attention to intelligent ideas that are formulated on this information bathroom wall that we call the web.

and why should they?

we continue to vote for these charlatans.

best thing i ever did was vote for Nader. not because it sent a message to anyone, but just like quitting smoking, it got me out of the habit of following the status quo of punching the hole that Tom Brokaw and all the other rich white men talk about on my beloved television. for a brief moment i thought for myself and said, Bush is a fucking idiot and Gore? fuck him too.

and then i thought about sex and then i remembered why i was there and then i punched the hole that said Nader.

and i was free.

the comments section of this blog are here for the readers to tell me how amazing i am, and for them to ask qualifying questions. it really isnt there for people to disagree with me or for others to spout off their points of view. do that on your own boring blogs.

but, i am a proud American. i was born in washington d.c. for pete sake. and even though Voltaire was a terrible french commie non-believer, he did say something that i agree with, something along the lines of "i disagree with what you say, but i will defend to the death your right to say it."

which is why i rarely ban people from leaving whatever comment they choose to leave.

something the FCC doesn't have the guts to do. which is why they suck, and why i disagree with the conservatives who support them. i think people can read something that they disagree with, or find ugly, or find offensive, or ugly, or stupid, or retarded or whatever, and not be scarred.

as someone who likes to write things down, i believe that words have a tad bit of power, but only if the reader wants there to be power there.

dumbshits will never have power, which is why our president is getting his ass handed to him by enemies foreign and domestic.

and since my break is about over, i will close by saying that the only way that i will ban people from leaving comments is if they either reveal personal information of someone who would not like that made public, or if they continue to be totally ridiculous.

more ridiculous, that is, than me.

for just like in many arenas, in that one, i too am king.

# | |

a gentle reader politely asked for another picture of ashley and her sister and im always happy when i can fulfill a request.

last night me and jeanine went over to my old college roommate's beautiful home in venice to celebrate his 25th birthday.

one of the party-goers brought a couple of bottles of Absinthe of which i had a shot to see what all the who-ha was about.

from what i remember, the drink was a favorite among famous artists and writers from Hemingway to Van Gogh and even thought both of those giants ended up a wee bit insane, what a better price for art, so i put the sugar on the spoon, dipped it into the elixir, set it aflame and let it drip into the glass and toasted the birthday boy and his lovely wife.

tasted like Vicks 44.

jeanine helped finish off the blue bottle, which was quite popular at the bash and i understood that although it is not available in america, it is for sale in the Czech Republic. so, if any of my good friends from that region of this planet would be nice enough to send me a bottle or two, please email me and i will be happy to pay for the mysterious drink as well as postage, etc.

last night, unfortunately, i found myself being jeanine's designated driver.

although i did hope that my one shot would bring me the vivid dreams that all the websites promised, but alas, just like every other night, i experienced no dreams.

it could be because i am a smoker.

i don't smoke very much. a few puffs each day. but that habit has strangely influenced my nocturnal visualizations and despite popular believe, i do not dream, something that is quite fine with me.

however, recently i have read some blogs of people who i admire and empathize with who also have habits that they are trying -- some quite successfully -- to kick in the name of their own health.

i have great admiration for these people as will power is something that each of us struggle with.

and because of their courage, specifically their openness to discuss their issues publicly via their blogs, i will join them in my dirtiest habit, that of smoking.

and as of today, i will quit for a month, my stupid little puffs, that really do nothing for me a this point, but it is something that ive done for over 6 years, and it is something that makes me quite angry whenever i am without.

solidarity, brothers and sisters!

# | |

me and chris tried to see the andy warhol show today which was the last day of the run. its been here all summer. we're slackers.

when we finally found the place the line was forever and instead of standing in it we just decided to go to Philippes and have some french dipped sandwiches but on the way there we drove through chinatown and changed our minds again and decided on chinese. this is what its like to hang out with me.

i love chris so much, it's good to have her back, she was away in europe for the last two weeks. it's hard not to think of her as a soul mate because we are so comfortable together and we hold hands and we hardly get mad at each other and she was apologizing for us not getting to see warhol and i was all, ive forgotten all about it, and she said we could stand in line i wouldnt mind, and i said, its forgotten.

so we parked and walked through chinatown looking for the perfect new hole in the wall discovery of a lifetime and ran into Foo Chow, the restaurant that was in the Jackie Chan film "Rush Hour". Because im a freak i cannot resist such a touristy opportunity so we ate there. it was terrible, naturally. the spicy dishes were not spicy. the rice was bad. the coke was pepsi. chris liked the chow mein, but i didnt, and as is normal to chinese restaurants, the service was horrible and we had to ask twice for water and i wont even mention the fact that the egg rolls showed up a good twenty minutes after the entrees.

i did have a great fortune cookie that said, "dont talk about what you will accomplish, it will delay your progress."

still it was great to have lunch with my very special friend who has lost about 20 pounds over the last few months and was looking super good in these tight pants and designer shirt and we told each other that we loved each other a lot and we told los angeles that we loved it and when we got back to my house we had two things that we could do: we could take a little nap, or we could do my laundry and then go to my college roommate Chris's birthday party out in venice.

we decided to nap.

i couldnt nap cuz i napped yesterday all day.

shes in there napping now and im writing you.

hi.

i do have a question for all of you out there. its my moms birthday next month and my sister has arranged lodging in Aruba! from the 22nd to the 29th of September, but tickets seem to be going for $650 R/T from here (LA) to Aruba.

im thinking i would be willing to leave the night of the 19th or on the 20th or on the 21st and spend a few days in Miami if i could find some sort of LA > Miami > Aruba > LA ticket for $300 ish.

Any of you travel-savvy busblog readers know anything about this? Chris flew from here to Amsterdam for $300 R/T, why would it cost me double that just to get to mexico?

anyhow, if you have a sweet hookup that you wish to share with me, you can email me or leave word in the comments box. Gracias, amigos!

# | |

omg, hi free willy!

the name is keiko, tony.

wow, a real life movie star!

tony, you gotta stop talking about politics. nobody wants to hear it, nobody wants to hear it from you, and you're getting bad advice from your readers.

no such thing as bad advice from readers, willy.

those are people who found your site from layne or welch or doc or instapundit and they love how you talk about politics because you write about it in a different way. once they find out that you really don't know what you're talking about or mean what you say, they'll click over to the next joker.

but... but...

but nothing. plus they're just looking for a strong liberal voice to build up and then knock down. don't fall for it.

aw shit. i never thought of that.

and anyway, who the hell cares? only reason people become interested in politics is to make them feel better about not getting any.

yeah, but im not getting any.

when was the last time you got some?

i don't know, month ago?

and then what about before that?

well, a few days before that. its hard to remember. it was a big blur.

see, okay, see, that's what im talking about. right there! forget the red herring of politics, write about the sweet lovin that flows your direction.

you just wanted to say herring.

if robert novak or drudge or limbaugh or any of these blowhards actually got any...

blow holes, don't you mean, willy.

if any of them got any of the tang that you turn away, trust me, they wouldn't be writing about the fucking sudan.

whats up with the sudan?

exactly.

but wait, layne and welch write about politics and they have two super hot wives. the rallyingpoint too!

how many posts do you see welch layne or rp, write lately?

not many.

case closed.

willy, for a whale you sure know a lot.

yeah, fuck the dolphins. they aint got shit on me. see Farrakhan speak yesterday?

i did! that guy really can deliver a speech.

totally. sorta freaks me out a little.

i know what you mean, what he says is so rhythmic and smooth and makes sense and he says it with a smile and a laugh at every line.

yes! and no teleprompter, no notes, just busting! did you hear when he said that he just turned 70 years old!

i nearly dropped my hookah.

maybe there is something to be said about islam.

i just wish that he hadn't said all those bad things about Jews and i wish he would get off this kick that the white man owes african americans anything.

you don't have to tell me, tony. im half black and half white.

why do all the great black leaders and speakers have to be crazy criminals? jesse, don king, minister farrakhan.

the good white ones are crazy criminals too, they just blend in better.

i also wish some of the speakers before him didnt address the crowd as "africans." blacks have been in america for over 400 years. they're americans. and the last thing a racist wants to hear is one black person saying to another, "hello, americans!" makes it hard for them to say, "why dont you go back to where you came from."

never thought of that.

but i do think that Blacks should get shown some acknowledgement that slavery existed, helped build this country, was wrong, and that the country as a whole wanted to actually DO something about making it better.

isn't being the freest country in the world action enough? aren't 75% of african americans in the middle class? aren't the civil rights laws good enough?

first of all, until weed is legal, and you can show titties on tv, and say the word titties on the radio, then we shouldn't be saying how free we are.

okay, hippie.

im serious!

look, theres a school of hotties i gotta hook up with over by anacappa. let this be your last political hallucination. take a risk and start writing about your real life and about the babes that really do knock on your door and the ones you let in. no one else is living that life and no one is gonna think you're a manwhore just because you get some.

au contraire.

well then f them! how on earth are you supposed to live your life if you do things and not do things based on what a bunch of jealous pea-brained naysayers might think? i thought you were different.

i eat icing right out of the container.

i meant really different.

ok willy, i'll try to be more honest.

and free!

later, large mammal.

adios my favorite blogger!

# | |

fucked up and took a super long nap this afternoon cuz my body is getting really old. so here it is now 4am and im up. hi!

at 3am i was up too. and not feeling so swell. who was i chatting with? someone. see, the memory is old too.

oh that's right, i was chatting with ashley's friend, jenny. she's in london and was telling me that she is going to be going back to boston soon and shes a little nervous cuz schools gonna start and she doesnt have an apartment there yet and i said for her to have no fear since im pretty sure my man o-dub will loan her his couch if she needs a place to rest her weary head.

that seemed to soothe her.

but still i wasnt in the best of moods. and then i saw one of the goth twins was online and i asked her if she still hated me.

what happened was, i found her site, wrote about her and her twin sister, was really nice, saying how they were both super gorgeous and how the older one makes a really impressive site and has some cool things to say about stuff. and she put that on her site, but when her sister read it and saw that i have a link to subscribe to maxim and stuff that i must obviously be a sexist, etc. and convinced her sister to not talk with me any more!

so tonight i IMed her and asked if she still hated me.

she said yes.

i said bummer.

she said id get over it.

is it better to have chatted with two super cute young texan goth twins and have them hate you, or never to have chatted at all?

but really, it does suck to be judged negatively so quickly. sexist? as if!

one reason i write about women so much is because i find them fascinating and superior.

you dont?

ashley's friend, jenny, for example, speaks 15 languages.

it was good talking to her because she was telling me some pretty personal stuff, and i said, do you tell this stuff to everyone, are you that open normally? and she basically said, no, that she trusts me.

imagine that!

when i first started being friends with ashley, jenny didnt approve. i didnt blame her. she said something about being at a teen bar somewhere in europe and getting grossed out by these older guys who would hang out in there. eventually, though, i guess jenny saw that i wasnt some creepy dude, that i was just a regular weirdo, and alls good now.

but at 3am i was still bummed out even though she said nice things to me.

3am, i realized, was usually the hour that ashley would call me. i would be passed out, of course, at that evil hour, like most of america, but she was just getting her second wind, and alone and bored, and would ring me to say sweet things and keep tabs on me.

"who did you go out with?"

"tell me!"

"and what exactly did you do?"

sometimes i would fall asleep and she would mash the buttons on the phone and id say, wha?

i flipped on my aol to see if moxie was around, she wasnt.

and i kept it on as i heated up some peas and opened the french doors to let the breeze come in.

and then i saw a little chat window open up from southern california's most popular cam girl, Oish!

now Oish had written me a while ago and i wrote her back but never followed up because i didnt really think it was for real.

cam girls dont send emails, they receive them. zillions.

when she got me on the chat tonight i asked her how many hits she gets.

"2k-5k"

a day?

"yes, uniques."

im pretty happy with the popularity of this blog, and it gets about 500 uniques a day. Oish writes about four paragraphs a day and gets ten times the hits.

moxie asked me yesterday why she gets more hits on the days that she posts less, and i told her that maybe all her guy readers are saying that they prefer a woman who dont talk so damn much.

maybe i am a sexist.

people need to understand that i think its all funny. i have a poster of mariah carey in my bedroom. its called irony. but its also nice to have a poster of mariah carey in your room.

its also nice to discover that our girl Oish is a fan of the busblog and she wanted to say hi.

she said she'd call me on the phone, but her battery was dead.

my phone number, ladies, is ridiculously easy to remember.

you could probably even guess it.

apparently the daisy princess has forgotten it.

anyway, near the end of the chat she said that she really liked my blog!

Oish:i love your site
supertsar7: you do?
supertsar7: thats awesome!
Oish: YEAH!! you write really well
supertsar7: awwww
Oish: I admrie that. I get so sick of boring 'blogs' ugh. and you keep yours interesting and intelligent but not so that it makes your audience feel inferior.

magically, i felt better.

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dear tony,

The best thing about having your own web site is that you can say whatever you want. I am cool with that, you are you and that is why people visit.

I just hope you don't think I am a racist bastard just because I am a Republican.

- Kevin Holtsberry

you'd think the guy who has sponsored Blogger Pro for the busblog would have heard this once or twice but apparently i don't write it enough:

nothing in here is true.

i know it's a copout. its probably the laziest form of journalism that one could participate in.

but you must admit, it brings about a fair amount of freedom that just might lead to some of what you like in my writing.

do i think Republicans are racist bastards?

let's see, is david duke a racist bastard? ok, that's not fair. do i like anyone from the moral majority? rush limbaugh? that old guy from carolina? is big business interested in being successful so that minorities and women can rise up from the production floors and make it into management? aren't most people who join country clubs republican and don't most republicans who don't belong interested in one day being a member, thus fleeing from minorities?

aren't republicans the ones who are so gung-ho, still, behind this war on drugs and unwilling to admit that its a war that has cost more money than Vietnam and is as equally as unsuccessful, but the casualties are the same: poor minorities, who now populate much of this nation's jails?

aren't republicans the ones who hold up Ronald Regan as their big savior even though he traded arms for hostages, brought down the american economy, and paved the way for the Bush family to humiliate themselves again and again?

and aren't republicans the ones who did everything they could to stop that monster Bill Clinton even though he was incredibly successful at home and abroad, in spite of being dogged for things that the american public didn't give a hoot about?

other than the only visible Blacks in the Bush administration, what current GOP leaders aren't entirely full of shit? the former mayor of nyc? ok, that's one. sen. mccain? well, if the right liked him so much why did they nominate numb nuts?

to me the GOP is a dying party held together only because the Liberals are so splintered, lazy, and too open-minded. the GOP is the only place where you could have David Duke, Pat Buchanan, Bob Dole, Dan Quayle, and JC Watts all claiming to be Republicans and it doesn't confuse anyone; you could say that Mickey Mouse was a republican and the loyalists would blindly and loyally vote for him, as is evident by our current president.

what, exactly was his plan for america, back then, anyway? and what is it now? blow people up more?

democrats, however, will vote Green, or Libertarian, or Independent, or for Nader, thus fucking up the program for themselves. i should know, in the last elections i voted for reagan, bush, clinton, clinton, and nader.

what do i know?

nothing.

and i couldn't care less.

a young black man in america cant look to government to help him. nor should he. we voted, here in california, for pot to be legal to people who are sick. but the republican supreme court struck it down. and the democratic leaders didn't have a hissy fit, so guess what, it stayed struck down because liberals have big hearts but no teeth. theres no eye of the tiger. nobody wants blood.

and guess what, people don't feel like their vote counts any more.

not when they live in california, or in florida. so that's two huge states defeated.

and theres ways to overcome this problem, but the rich will figure out a way to destroy that too. they're old and slow, but they eventually get it together. they have so much to lose if they don't.

so why bother to fight them?

that's why i sit here and make shit up, and talk out of my ass, and exaggerate and lie and put up pictures of hot babes who may or may not like me, but odds are they don't, because just like this post, nothing in here is true.

so no i don't hate you kevin, or think you're racist, or a bastard. you paid for my blogger pro. you lived up to one of the promises of conservatism. your party argues that if you give the average man the money that he worked for he will spread it around, either by giving to charities, or investing in new projects -- and you did just that.

no government program deemed me worthy of Blogger Pro, you did.

no paperwork or beaurocracy was needed, simply me asking, and you giving. the whole transaction took about an hour, if not quicker. i don't remember, i was busy emailing some babe.

simple rule of thumb for this blog is this: if you agree with what i write, then it was true, if you don't, then it was some bs that i wrote in an attempt to be funny.

the only thing that you can count on being true is that im very happy that any of you are reading what i write and that im lucky to have good friends who know a hell of a lot more about life and politics and writing and being successful than i am.

in reality, im a lazy slob who is alone most of the time, who isnt really all that lucky with the ladies, who is far more spiritual than you'd think, and who has a terrible problem with self-esteem and motivation.

and i don't know shit about politics which is why i don't write about them.

if nobody read this blog, or if i really produced what i wanted, i would just put up new pictures of ashley every day and write about how i cant believe that she likes me. which she doesn't. she likes her ex. which is why shes with him right now. instead of with me.

so i hope that clears some things up.

now we can go back to our Replacements weekend.

love,

tony

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