when i was in junior college i pumped gas in beverly hills. no one really asked why i quit my job selling computers and tvs and stereos in a store where i was always in the top five of fifty salespeople.

ok, some asked, and usually i told them that i had been confused with all the money that i was making and instead i just wanted to serve mankind. and pumping their gas sounded like a good start.

in truth i was serving mankind, i was staked out at the unocal seventy six as the youngest agent ever in the xbi, twenty years old, black, and owner of a seventy six cadillac sedan de ville..

i was placed at that particular location because it was an all-full serve station, and it was also ridiculously close to the century plaza hotel, known for its elegance, famous guests, and helicopter landing pad on its roof.

perfect for presidents.

the xbi had no interest in the president of the united states, but the bad guys did. and the bad guys had stolen property many times, and the xbi was interested in stealing their stolen property and giving some of it to the proper authorities.

i looked good in that uniform.

dark blue undershirt that looked like a surfers shirt with alternating blue and orange stripes ringing the neck, nice patch with my name on it.

light blue overshirt with pocket and patch with my name on it.

dark blue jacket with pocket and sleeve for tire gauge. patch with my name on it.

nice hat that said unocal.

dark black shoes with steel enforcement above the toes.

clean towels in the back for wiping the squeegies.

and an endless parade of the finest automobiles in all of california that would roll up and ask you to fill it up and check under the hood even though the car only has a few hundred miles on it.

as the sun shone

and as bad guys did circles around the avenue of the stars

unaware as to just how many eyes were upon them.

weeks before the president would arrive.

coyote + chicha + adrants + funny

# | |

interesting things happen at the xbi every day. today was no different. as you can probably guess some of the crime that we fight is cybercrime.

theres money there too. and where theres money to be made you will find criminals, and where there are criminals to steal from you will find the xbi.

some of us have been tracking the progress of the insane goings on of the ftc regarding privacy, namely telemarketers who call people at home.

we knew that they were going to be a registry of peoples names and phone numbers that the telemarketing companies couldn't call.

we also knew that about 9 out of 10 americans with a phone number would send in their name and number once they heard about this magical solution. this marvelous list.

and we also knew that in the wrong hands, the list could be exploited, and used for a variety of nefarious ways.

think about it: its a fresh list of current names, addresses and phone numbers of people who probably have unlisted phone numbers.

we knew the bad guys would be all over this list.

but we didnt know the feds would be so dumb as to tack on a pirates booty of peoples email addresses too!

and if this isnt a cowbell calling in the evil doers of the internet, then nothing is.

all the people involved in the National Do Not Call Registry patted themselves on the back proudly shouting out the fact that today, its first day of operation, over 735,000 phone numbers were registered with the ftc.

many of the americans registered on the government agency's web site which asked them for their email address for confirmation.

so let me ask you a question

if you were a hacker wouldnt you think that the best day to hack a site would be on its first day, as it was crashing repeatedly because of heavy traffic and untested spikes?

if you were a criminal and hired a hacker, or a team of hackers or a

gang

of hackers, how much do you think it would be worth if you could get a million fresh names with addresses and email addresses and ip addresses in one day?

and if you were a bad guy, would you simply intercept the packets or would you, i dont know, maybe redirect ten or twenty percent of them off the governments web page and onto yours where you would there take their information and provide simple ways to have that user provide things like social security numbers and email addresses of their 10 best friends which would be rewarded by a $50 amazon.com gift certificate which would be sent to their "alternate" email address, which they should provide in the box below.

whats twenty percent of a shitload?

rolled in a little early this morning because the 21 caught all the green lights flying down wilshire.

hottest latina girl ive ever seen on the bus, totally put together, thin arms, a pony tail that meant business, and even a little cleavage for the boys, sat up straight and scootched over when a lady wanted her empty seat.

i forget where she got dropped off but im going to have to get in at that time more often if shes gonna be on the bus i thought.

hopped off at my stop, cursed the soda machine for not taking dollar bills and sat at my desk and got im'ed by chopper one telling me that the script had broken.

which meant people in large amounts were leaving the ftc's webpage and going to one ip.

we went to that ip, we hacked the server, we triangulated the mumuschantz, fired up the bird, sent out the cars, and beat down that mother fucker before regis had met his first guest.

bitch.

someone screamed where are the other servers.

the dude said what other servers?

these guys had done it all. they had not only hacked the ftc site, but also launched an email spam using previously stolen email lists which told people to come to the ftc site to sign up for the swell list, and even though the link said it was going to take you to the .gov email address it sent you to a different place instead.

a very bad place.

a boot was in his neck, rifles to his shrivelled nuts and a copter above, mine, letting out low frequencies of hyperdirected audio waves that was making everyone inside the dwelling without inner ear plugs suddenly quite pukey.

the xbi agent was asking about the other servers that this guy had used in past crimes and after he finished barfing on himself he shouted out the address of a highrise in westwood and reluctantly offered up the keys.

and from those servers we found previous crimes, smaller jobs, and trails to off shore bank accounts, and business partners, and financial records, and car titles, and emails to each other about their girlfriends and wives.

we had those fuckers broke and terrified before the pizza man brought lunch.


and since it was friday, and gorgeous, most of us left work early

like me.

735,000? + donotcall.gov + sahalie

# | |

caption this, please

# | |

Smoking pot doesn't harm brain function

Fri Jun 27,12:17 AM ET

By Deena Beasley

LOS ANGELES (Reuters) - Smoking marijuana will certainly affect perception, but it does not cause permanent brain damage, researchers from the University of California at San Diego say.

"The findings were kind of a surprise. One might have expected to see more impairment of higher mental function," said Dr. Igor Grant, a UCSD professor of psychiatry and the study's lead author. Other illegal drugs, or even alcohol, can cause brain damage.

His team analysed data from 15 previously published, controlled studies into the impact of long-term, recreational cannabis use on the neurocognitive ability of adults.

The studies tested the mental functions of routine pot smokers, but not while they were actually high, Grant said.

The results, published in the July issue of the Journal of the International Neuropsychological Society, show that marijuana has only a marginally harmful long-term effect on learning and memory.

No effect at all was seen on other functions, including reaction time, attention, language, reasoning ability, and perceptual and motor skills.

Grant said the findings are particularly significant amid questions about marijuana's long-term toxicity now that several states are considering whether to make it available as a medicinal drug.

In California, growing marijuana for medical purposes is legal under a voter-approved law.

The UCSD analysis of studies involving 704 long-term cannabis users and 484 nonusers was sponsored by a state-supported program that oversees research into the use of cannabis to treat certain diseases.

Anecdotal evidence has shown that marijuana can help ease pain in patients with diseases like multiple sclerosis or prevent severe nausea in cancer patients, but the effects have yet to be proven in controlled studies, Grant said.

The UCSD research team said the problems observed in learning and forgetting suggest that long-term marijuana use results in selective memory defects, but said the impact was of a very small magnitude.

"If we barely find this tiny effect in long-term heavy users of cannabis, then we are unlikely to see deleterious side effects in individuals who receive cannabis for a short time in a medical setting," Grant said on Friday.

In addition, he noted that heavy marijuana users often abuse other drugs, such as alcohol and amphetamines, which also might have long-term neurological effects.

Some of the research studies used in the analysis were limited by the numbers of subjects or insufficient information about factors like exposure to other drugs or whether participants suffered from conditions like depression or personality disorders.

"If it turned out that new studies find that cannabis is helpful in treating some medical conditions, this enables us to see a marginal level of safety," Grant said.

jennyeah + snoop doggy blog

# | |

my second favorite magazine Rock Illustrated apparently reads the busblog hourly waiting for me to update throughout the day and was curious about some of the things that i was writing about yesterday.

they asked me if i could write "straight". and the woman who was asking me this, i think was considering me to write for her one day. and i said of course i could write "straight".

she asked me why i didnt in my blog.

i told her that it was because i was afraid that all the people who read it currently would go away. but then i retracted that and said that its not as much fun for me to write that way.

i explained that it was a lot like pitching in baseball. if you have a guy who can throw a great curveball and a great knuckler and a great split-finger pitch, "junk" as the pundits call it, you really dont need a 90 mph fastball.

to which she argued that if i could master that fastball it would appear to be a 98 mph one in comparison to that "great" sweeping 75 mph curve.

and i agreed with her.

and then there was silence on the phone.

and then i said, so how many pitchers and writers do you know with great "junk" and a great fastball?

and she said none.

and i said thats why im working on my spitter.

man was mumbling on the bus behind me today in spanish. i kept hearing a click after he would say whatever it was that he was saying.

silly me, i thought that he was talking into a tape recorder to capture his insights as we bounced down wilshire blvd.

when i got up to get off the bus i saw that his head was up against the glass, his eyes were closed and all along he had been talking to himself in his sleep and his dentures were clicking.

it was really nice driving karisas mr2 when we drove home last night in the dark and steamy night through the valley.

i shared this with her and she told me that i really need a car and i said i didnt agree with her.

she said, but you could go anywhere you want at any time.

and i said where would i go?

and she said anywhere.

and i said all i want to be is in hollywood or on the wessside.

and she said thats it?

and i said, well, and with you, of course.

and she smiled and a twinkle glimmered in her eye and like a shot we were through the valley and almost home.

jaime leigh + earth-info + brit coal

# | |

sometimes the stars shine so dimly that you have to look closer and when you do you see youre surrounded.

paris canceled our date tonight which made me happy cuz secretly i wanted to take karisa to see beck. i get nervous around karisa but i get super nervous around paris cuz i dont know her at all. does anyone?

karisa makes me nervous cuz i always want to impress her. theres pretty much nobody who gets me that way anymore, and im getting over it because we've been close friends for going on, what, 40 years now? we've done tons of ridiculous things that if she still likes me after all that then i guess she always will.

tom waits is on my winamp and the riaa can suck my cock. santa barbara was warm tonight and beck was hot. speculation arose between yours truly and the mass girl as to whether mr. hanson had snorted a few rails of the pure stuff because the first four numbers were performed in a maniacal, decidedly herky jerky teeth grinding manner that isnt at all like his newest offering of easy listening drones.

i dont want to give up on our local genius but the salsa isnt as tangy as it once was but the kids at the county bowl didnt mind, they passed their joints around and dialed up their best friends on their cell phones and held them up to the sweet songs and karisa and i looked up into the night and the stage lights flickered but you know what, i dont go to beck concerts to slowdance which is too bad cuz there were plenty of moments for lots a that.

you may have known that beck fired most of his band after he decided to dive headfirst into the controversial religion that he has admitted to belonging to. me, im still pretty much in the closet about being a Christian, which is probably the most controversial of all religions. and if he had asked me, which he didnt, i would have invited him to hire a band full of satanists, since they always make the best music, instead it looked and sounded like the amish got the vote: they were nice, white, and forgettable. they attempted to keep up with their maestro and jerk around like his previous band but they were a pale imitation lacking of any soul or majesty.

when beck sang about two turntables and a microphone, there was nary one turntable on the stage, let alone two.

that is not to say that the show was without its warmth, and charm, and delight, and amusement. beck loves to dance, he loves to play crazy instruments, he loves to do the robot, he loves to rock the mic. and tonight everyone loved beck right back.

he played a lot of the crappy new stuff and lots of the classic old stuff. he played a cover that was so perfect i wont even reveal it's title because he is playing friday night in irvine and i wouldnt want to spoil it for you. it was a great song selection, if only the band could play the music.

im hypercritical about beck because he is the new bob dylan and that is a lot of pressure, so what. we all have our crown of thorns to sport, write another Loser, blondie. and ixnay on the gram parsonsay.

we had pit seats. so close you could see the singers eye color (black). so close i could see that he had put his guitar pick in the neck of his guitar to produce a very unique sound when played through a series of pedals ment to produce the feeling of dread and itchiness.

theyve added restrooms underneath the stage in the 74 year old county bowl, parking is still suprisingly simple, and the people are soft and cheery and happy and lucky.

we saw the future of rock n roll tonight, karisa and i, and as soon as he quits fucking around with all the bullshit thats distracting him, he will rise again, regain his throne, and make music that theyd have a harder time playing in elevators.

we drove home down the 101, just 90 minutes and we were back in hollywood where we belonged. halfway down karisa let me take over the controls of her z cuz she was so tired and we had realized that beck had never said goodnight to the crowd, or introduced his band, or thanked the openers, and once again we had to forgive him.

hey buddy, quit your job blowing leaves.

bored housewife + kevynn malone + anti

# | |

hot as shit out here today.

weird day. weird week. weird everything.

i just got interviewed by my favorite magazine Black Webmaster.

ive been interviewed by them before, but things get f'ed up and i never end up in there. thats cool. i dont do this for fame, i do this for the ladies. but you know that.

the last person who interviewed me from there got fired or killed or quit or something, who knows and then they got someone else to follow up and then someone else, and today a super cool guy called me up and we had our little chat.

i sweat when i write and i sweat when im being interviewed. the literal juices flow, i suppose, its weird and now i wish i had brought another shirt.

he asked all the regular questions except for the ones that i thought he was going to ask me about.

the original article was supposed to be about the dearth of Black bloggers. and so i thought that this article was going to be about Blogger tools that i use. but i guess that wouldnt be much of an article cuz all i pretty much use is Blogger Pro, Dreamweaver, and Photoshop. And then of course YACCS for the comments, and Site Meter for the counter.

first question he asked was if i had a Bio on the blog and i said no so he asked, "so then who is tony pierce?"

stumped me on that one so we moved on.

i told him about the Daily Nexus were all of our friends met, and about the Creative Studies college at UC Isla Vista cuz that one-two punch got me excited about writing and provided me with the chance to write every damn day.

then he asked why i wrote. what motivated me. and i told him that it was nice to get immediate positive feedback, and presents from people pierce, 4845 Fountain Ave. #15, LA, CA 90029 , and donations, and dates with hot babes.

he said, really you do this for the babes?

i said, oh yes.

he asked, and how is that going?

and i said, amazingly well.

then he asked some more hard questions, like what posts im most proud of, and i couldnt think of any. it was tough.

i told him about the Dear Kids of Afghanistan photo essay and the Anna Kournikova photo essay but all i could think of for pure writing was my disses on Bob Costas.

so this is where you come in, generous readers, and this is the perfect time to ask because paris and i are going to santa barbara to see beck play in a few hours.

would you all mind letting me know if there was a story or a post or something like that that you remember being particularilly good, or one that struck you as funny, or touching, etc?

not only would i totally appreciate it, but if i get enough suggestions from you nice people, perhaps i can put together a new book.

holla!

# | |

caption this, please

# | |

ashley called me last night like five times. i dont look at that as a bad thing. it's determination. commitment. passion. desire. intention.

what we talked about isn't important. nothing is important except that i admire her for sticking to what she wants.

lots of times people stick to what they want but what they want is so dumb.

im not entirely sure that ashleys quest to have me be in her life again is the smartest idea. i cant say im the best friend.

and i want to get with many of her friends. who are all gorgeous.

i want the best for her. i want her to have a normal life. i want her to have a boyfriend her own age. i want her to go to college and become an actress and marry a rock star and write a memoir and maybe then she can say some nice lies about how good i was to her when she was nineteen and twenty and twenty-one.

i tried to be good to her, but i think i was just being selfish.

i can be selfish to a lot of my friends and im sorry about that.

all of you.

my friend amy picked me up at work yesterday and we drove to my house and then to the fabulously old figueroa hotel in downtown LA. it's the beautiful brick building right across the street from Staples center.

meticulous wrought iron gates, classy pool, outdoor patio, funky art, and lots of international tourists who dont know that in all of LA you really dont want to be staying downtown. but we all make that mistake when we travel to foreign lands, dont we?

it was great to catch up with her as we drove through LA and drank with the intellects.

my friend greg made a short film with me the other day and last night he asked me if i would go see the Hulk with him because his wife is way too smart for such a dumb flick and i gladly said id go with him, especially since its playing at my favorite movie theatre The Vista where they took out every other row of seats. more leg room than even yao ming could use.

my friend os was there and told me about a camping trip. my friend paulo was there with his brother and they took a lot of pictures of my beautiful attorney.

mc brown was in the house and he has a great new web site called Buzznet that i'm sure i will be talking about a lot in the next few weeks and months.

matt and emmanuelle were there looking perfect. infact the best picture that i took last night was of emmanuelle and her sassy short red dress.

welch overheard me calling him a sellout as he drank wine and had a shirt tied in a knot over his cuban button up and he protested that he has been drinking wine his whole life, and i said yes, but when you were keeping it real you drank it from a jug and your hair was as long as a girls.

luke ford was there interviewing our girl amy trying to dig up dirt but amy just lied and lied and you cant get anything out of big time journalists like her, and if you think you have something you dont, all you have is some red herrings. my best advice when interviewing my friends is forget about the so called facts and focus on the feature. zero-in on the atmosphere, the friendships, the love.

viva le rock.

# | |

had a great night tonight in la. i dont really want to get into it too much cuz then some of this might be true. so lets just say that one day i need to tell you that i have the greatest friends.

im thirsty. ive been drinking. ive been meeting the famous and the nearly famous. ive been hanging in some of hollywoods old school histroy. ive been drinking.

im not going to spell check this mofo or proof read it or anything becuase tonight i was aroujd some of LAs finest writers amd thjeres no way i compare to any of them other than the fact that i have you and i only have some of you.

some of you are just here for the ride adnd thats nice.

i met someone superfamous today at work and he met me and he said nice things to me and i wanted to say nice things to him but i dont lie in real life, just in here, just in the blog.

yesterday i wrote some sad stuff and the day before i did too.

i didnt do it for any other reason than to show a friend that wriuting sad is the easiest thing in the world. oh woah is me. poor moi. isnt life terrible?

a mouse can write about fear better than any man so why compete with rodents? its our job to talk about glorious things. my how time flies.

tomorrow i will be seeing our friend Beck in santa barbara at the county bowl, one of my all time favorite places to see a show.

i think i will be going with bi-coastal socialite paris hilton but only if she behaves and lets me drive.

if i had a normal job i would be able to surprise her and take friday off and get a room at the days inn near the beach and eat seafood and drink wine all night and play strip blackjack and not bang but just be sexy, cuz anyone can bang but how many can truly be sexy. the bone being balanced on the dogs nose, etc.

im drunk but in a good way. like my memory is here but distracted.

did someone call me today. yes, it was ashley. and chris. and jeanine.

three olde girlfriends of totally differnet personality tyupes and one thing in common, dunmb enough to kiss me.

kissmet

plummet

dummb it

fckit

katie + sk smith + leah + jenny

# | |

i dont know how to feel about anything anymore, im very confused.

i think most of it stems from the fact that i hate my favorite radio station, kroq 106.7 which plays crap after crap after crap.

and everyone is a ho.

and theres definitely not nearly enough pimpz.

i want a fur coat and a louis vuitton cowboy hat and a cane and a little bling and some game.

i want a gold cadillac that smells like corinthian leather inside that has a disco ball and a stand up coin op version of defender in the back and an eight track and a girl who really likes me, waiting.

i want to go to memphis tennessee and drive my cadillac to elvis's house and go to his gravestone and say, king, i wasnt into you when i was younger but i am now, and i think youre great, and im sorry about the pills and the way life goes down sometimes.

i want to work at a dairy queen for a little while this summer.

i want to wear a paper hat and grill up braizers and watch people fresh out of swimming pools huddled in their towels dripping and smelling of chlorine do the hot asphalt dance as they wait for their chocolate dipped soft serve to be presented from the walk-up window.

i want a new summer job every week.

i want everything, america.

i want to work at a mental institute like karisa did.

can we talk about karisa for a minute?

k.

yesterday she sent me some pictures of her weekend trip to vegas and she had a rash so she laid out in the sun like professor science and the suntan/burn killed the rash and gave her the most deep dark tropic tan

and in this one picture her eyes are so perfect and those blue eyes surrounded by

maybe we shouldnt talk about karisa

lets talk about pharrell from the neptunes, n*e*r*d, lets talk about everything that guy touches is perfect.

how hes not afraid to go falsetto way too much but it doesnt matter cuz its the right thing to do.

lets talk about how he can just wear any tshirt he wants and its great and how he can be sexy and even dirty but it dont matter.

les talk about anything other than what im going to have to talk about today in real life.

one of the biggest movie stars in the history of the world is gonna be at the office today and im going to be too busy to even poke my head in there.

so last night i was miserable. havent been that miserable in a long time.

i wanted to run home but the black man cant just start running. i wanted to take a cab home but i wanted to spend that money on taking karisa to dinner and drinking and eating away my dumb sorrows.

and i got home and she called me and we talked and everything was better, not completely, but enough.

and then my buddy greg vaine called who had edited a short little movie that we made together and he told me that he wanted to make another dream come true and he had a date in july that he wanted to do it and i wanted to cry when i had gotten home but i dont cry.

then a super hot girl came over and we watched the zep dvd and she had said that she had it at home but she didnt want to watch it alone and how everything that night was working out.

and we toasted with our budweisers

and tonight i will get to hang out with my pal amy who rules.

and i might see layne.

who has been crank calling me.

and still i wonder what all this is about. what it means. what its for.

cuz i thought i knew but now i forgot.

im just ready to rock.

chris howell + jason goldman + anita rowland

# | |

lou doesnt want to be part of it. he's lived his whole life. he's seen things.

he doesnt want to be on the hollywood rock walk

what he wants to do is be across the street at that mexican restaurant.

in the dark.

margueritas melting, wet burrito steaming,

one last dip of the chip into the salsa.

lou reed worries me.

what happens if you write some of the best stuff of all time and sing it perfect and play it perfect and then one day it just all goes away.

when was the last good lou reed song? sweet jane? thirty years ago?

i dont want to go 30 years inbetween sweet janes.

all that stuff worries me.

jimmy page wrote zep one, two, three, four, and the rest and then never wrote another good song again.

how can people write such great music for years and then it all dries up.

not even a drop left.

we listened to johnny cash in palm springs.

some people have never lost it.

bukowski never lost it.

lou reed doesnt want to be at guitar center with his hands in mush surrounded by nobody named andy warhol.

i didnt sing to the cute baby like the gnome girl woulda wanted

but for some little kids i will one day

and some nights theyll get some heavy doses of the velvets.

and one day we'll be where we should.

missing raymi + treacher + makeout city + nocturnal angel + reason: hit and run

# | |

call me fuck up. nobody ever gets named right. to ny. to new york. backwards y not. why not.

i don't live in new york, im not going to new york. i don't run around as carefree as a butterfly, i barely even get drunk. im as normal and as californian as a midwesterner from dc can be. but when they named me they shouldnta called me tony.

fuck up they should of written on their shoe sole in magic marker and kicked me in the forehead instead of spanking me hello.

people who know about the xbi talk shit about the xbi and some of it is just and some of it i defend well and some of it i cant at all.

today i fucked up big time.

today people got hurt.

we aim at the brain in the xbi.

fbi aims at the leg.

cops aim at the heart.

fbi can aim at the leg and hit it a lot of the time.

xbi don't mind getting shot back at. plus we're trying to send a message on the streets. an s-o-s to our world.

don't fuck with the x

cooperate with the crazy.

listen and speak and do what we say or we will send trains into your homes filled with lumber.

and there's two guns on the nose of chopper one.

machine guns.

fully automatic machine guns that are supposed to be filled with rubber biscuits but i didn't check them and while i was on vacation this marine took chopper one up and showed off and used the bullets and not the biscuits and i should have checked but i don't have any attention to detail.

i don't cross my ts and dot my eyes.

which is why

im not fbi.

and today we were after gang members. real ones. teenaged ones.

innocent ones really.

innocent because of youth, not actions. actionwise they're guilty. guilty guilty guilty.

like me.

and i was sending warning biscuits at their heads but i wasn't lobbing biscuits i was blazing bullets.

they flew straight like lasers and ended careers and widowed and erased things

and started things

sad things

and i pulled up and said what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck

and i heard the marine say didn't you check your weapon

which is what he calls my pal chopper one

even though he knows i hate it called that

and i couldn't say anything and i wanted to die

the gloom swept me like a bong rip of bad trips

i was blanketed with dread and in my ear i heard forget it... gangmembers... killers... uneducated... a waste.

they were arguing.

but i was to blame. this isn't what its about. this is so lame.

and ive been wanting to quit the xbi for so long and ive been telling you that but it really is equal parts superhero equal parts thuglife and that's so not me.

neither is me.

i wanted to cry i wanted to die i wanted to lie.

i wanted to go land it and run home and i got back and i didn't say bye to anyone and i walked to the bus stop and kept walking and kept walking

got stuck in traffic trying to read

and

quit.

# | |

caption this, please

# | |

the comments aren't really working very well today and yes i upgraded it yesterday.

and blogger is being upgraded, and i thank them for that.

yesterday i got an interesting email regarding the comments and blogger and me and my alleged Status in the blogosphere.

this person said that she has been holding back the praise to me because she sees me getting it all the time and im glad the comments are rickety today because this isn't about trying to milk more praise from you all.

but Blogging is really new and the thousand people who come here every day is a really nice thing, but its nowhere near the 80,000 that Instapundit gets and therefore I have never regarded myself as an A-List or Big Time blogger.

Plus any positive thing that anyone says about me is very welcomed and does not fall on deaf or jaded ears. It all makes me smile and it all makes me want to write more and more.

Please dont think that just because the average blog gets a fraction of the traffic that i get that that means that instantly makes me feel like a great writer, or heals any confidence issues that I have. it helps but it doesn't heal.

libras they say have very low self esteem. and in that case im very much a libra. but its not a big deal the way it used to be. its sorta like a tooth that acts up occasionally.

ive done my best to turn it into a motivating device. for example i know that i'll never be able to write like layne or welch or the rabbit, but i can do photo essays and fake interviews and lie and lie and lie, which would be different than them, not necessarily better.

anyway, i guess the point of all of this is if you read something online and you like it you should tell the person regardless of the perceived popularity because odds are everyone likes to hear nice things. i know i do.

also if you really like a site or blog that you think is popular and you dont want to link to them because you think they get enough links, i can understand.

but i still like to be linked by everyone who likes me and reads me daily.

when i get 80,000 hits a day maybe i will feel differently.

i'll let you know then.

instapundit + brett lamb + black mask

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while i was on vacation my man matt suggested in my comments that i run for governor for the state of california, a state that ive been lucky enough to be a resident of for the last 19 years and 18 days.

he says that i should run because no one else is going to run democrat worth a damn.

he says i should run because no one else is going to have a platform of legalizing weed under the threat of secession.

and he says i should run because the groundswell of blogger support will most definitely secure my success.

and he says that tsar should play at all my rallies.

he left out van halen (minus sammy, plus dave.)

matt wants me to be californias first black governor but i don't wanna do it.

california as a state is one thing, and as a political state its a whole nother animal, not really one that i want to be involved in.

and sacramento?

sacramento is just a town where the lakers are assured victory, its not somewhere that i would want to live for eight years.

talk about heat. palm springs was a walk in the park compared to a summer in sacto. if i was governor i would have to escape to my lake tahoe retreat as much as possible.

plus i want willie brown to be our first black governor.

i don't care what anyone says.

every other state is allowed to have terrible guys run their state, at least with willie ours would be interesting.

if i was the governor i would fix the freeways. for some reason we are in freeway denial here. more and more people move to cali and they bring their wives and kids and all of their cars and we pretend that the 405 doesn't need to be any wider or the 10 or the 101.

and everyone pretends that you can just keep building and building in la and its not gonna matter.

i would put my hands on my hips and i would say more freeway lanes, less houses.

id get shot at a bunch but i would shoot right back, fuckers.

id turn the 5 freeway from bakersfield to fresno into the american autobahn, since this is the land of the free.

so much would be solar powered you wouldn't even believe it.

june sixth of each year would be nudie day where everyone would be encouraged to walk around nude.

yes, everyone.

im not ashamed.

october twenty second would be shake the hand of a hundred people day because even though i am pretty disgusted with the catholic church one of the things i got nervous about but liked was when you'd turn to your neighbor and say peace be with you.

there'd be free aids tests at every hospital and free condoms at the malls and yes

the state would be wireless.

since we're not savages.

but best of all,

skateboarding would not be a crime.

bonnie and charlie are WHAT? + charlie + charlie and bonnie + bonnie

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sorry i didnt write much today, i had to go to adam sandlers wedding in malibu.

everyone gets married in malibu. its pretty there.

its sorta painted into the corner of la so you can get stuck there pretty easy if the one is jammed, but if you get stuck there youre lucky because theres no where else better to be in the world unless youre 90 minutes north or four hours south.

i told my crew that i wasnt coming in today and my boss said i had to come in that my vacation was over, and i said, no sorry i need one more day cuz of adam sandlers wedding and he said you aint going to adam sandlers wedding and i said i swear. and then he said if adam sandlers so fancy whys he getting married on a monday and not a sunday or saturday.

and i said that its cuz adam sandler is a romantic and he met his bride on this day several years ago and this year it just happened to fall on a monday.

and he said that it sounded like bullshit to him.

and i said im sorry that it sounded like bullshit to him but i had to go to malibu and i didnt want to go but it was adam sandler.

and he said if you know adam sandler tell me one thing that is going on with him that i dont know about.

and i said, he's going to make another movie with drew barrymore very soon.

he said, he is?

i said, yes, of course he is. he is!

he said, well thats pretty good.

i said, yes it is.

and then he let me go to adam sandlers wedding.

and if i was allowed to bring a camera i woulda taken a super cute picture of karisa tearing up a bit when adam told his bride how much he loved her and how he would never let her have a sad day in her life.

and then my boss found out that adam sandlers wedding was really on sunday and he told me that he wanted to see my ass first thing tuesday morning.

so now im trying to find out where one rents a donkey in hollywood.

its richard giles's birthday + that broken valley girl + splink + bunnie

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caption this, please

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the case of the extra baby came to a spectacular ending this evening thanks to joint cooperation between the indio county sherrifs department and an undercover pair of superheroes who mysteriously found the infant and returned it to its billionaire parents in a tearful and emotional reunion.

this is tony pierce reporting from hollywood.

i didnt want to do it but i went back to the kinkos on highway 111 in palm desert even though they had charged me $24/hr for internet access.

since it was the only copy shop for miles, i asked the proprieter if he had happened to see any missing baby fliers get copied or distributed. he said yes and pointed to his corkboard which was littered with lost and found, wanted, missing, and services rendered fliers and etc.

and right in the middle was the good little girl who barely said a word other than elmo and do-do on a flier that said missing, reward.

in palm springs is it necessary to put a price on a child, i thought?

after i dialed the number i wondered how i could find out what the reward would have been if i actually wanted the money but i realized there would be no tactful way to ask and no tactful way to collect either.

collecting on a runaway german shepard would be so much easier.

fortunately i dont do hardly anything for the money. i do pretty much everything for the fun of it.

and it was fun being with the little kid who we called Babita

we learned that life is precious. That even if youve been around something for a year you still not be totally ready to understand it, even if your mind is free of useless details, facts, and memories.

we learned that little kids spill their food a lot.

we learned that little kids can fall off a couch really easilly and almost hit their head on the edge of a glass coffee table.

but most of all we learned that palm springs really is a "short" two-hour drive from LA, and suprisingly comfortably warm - not hot - even at the begining of summer.

heres a ten page photo dealie

twixt + susan mernit + the joint + ashley goes to the charlies angels 2 premeire

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i forgot to tell you. yesterday we found a baby.

random things have been happening to me even before i was kidnapped out here, so a baby on my patio door, even one that sorta looks like me, didnt rattle me as much as it probably shoulda.

rattled clippergirls cousin though, who proceeded to ask me a battery of serious questions starting with having me name all the girls i had sex with last year.

i was all, who can remember these things?

but secretly i was going through them in my head, silently.

hmm there was that one, and oh yeah, that one.

there was that virgin girl.

i looked at the baby and saw a little bit of the virgin girl there, but then i said, wait a second, i saw that girl not long ago and she didnt say anything about any baby.

then i said, hey now, if the baby's one years old, we have to think about girls i had sex with like almost two years ago.

and clipper girls cousin said, oh. then yeah. ok, think!

and i thought and that was hard. but then it wasnt that hard, me and ashley had a good thing going back then and since i knew she had never gotten pregnant, mostly cuz we were super safe, i knew i was in the clear.

but the cousin of the clippergirl wasnt so sure.

then tell me why she looks like you?

i said, people look like people all the time.

then she said, then tell me why this baby who looks like you ended up on our secret vacation?

i said, nothings secret. there are no secrets.

she said, what about the secrets that you keep?

i said, those are golden. some tales i will never tell, but i would never lie about having a cute little kid.

the baby cooed.

it was a good baby, it hardly ever cried.

when it did cry we gave it food or water and when that didnt work we changed her diaper.

pretty good kid.

we almost forgot we had her until we heard her laughing in the middle of the night.

today we're going to have to find her real parents because we have to go back to la tonight.

sadly.

every seinfeld episode + wisdom goof + jennyeah audblogs jaime

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