tony + mary!
busblog at gmail dot com

nothing in here is true


   Saturday, September 13, 2003  
making tivo better
by tony pierce
part one of a continuing series

"Cheif Button Pusher"

tivoed the cubs yesterday.

huge pennant race.

cubs are playing games with my heart and yesterday they gave up a 5 run lead and then it started to rain at wrigley. and the game was past the 6th inning meaning it was official, so if the umps wanted to, if the rain didnt look like it was going to go away, the game could have been canceled and the cubs could have lost. because it rained.

its one of the more curious rules in baseball, that nature can be the ultimate decider of the end (and winner) of a game.

well, nature decided the outcome of my tivo recording, the rain stretched on for 49 minutes and my 3 hour recording ended with the cubs behind and the rain increasing.

tivo needs to know that the game isnt over.

and since i cant tell it that the game is over because im being tied up by two bubble gum popping motorcycle girls some one else needs to tell tivo that the game isnt over.

tivo needs to be, omg, watching the games. a live person. oh no. needs to be employed.

and that live person needs to be able to extend the period of time that my tivo records live games whose most interesting and valueable moments are usually right at the end.

when i record a sporting event, there should be a pop up that asks, "would you like for us to keep recording if the game runs longer than the estimated time?"

and if you press yes, then it would be one guy who sends a signal to tivos that will keep the boxes going until the game is over.

and if it wipes out everything that i have, fine.

very few games are 40 hours.

start this test with the directv tivo owners.

i bet directv would be someone who would want exclusive rights to something like this since it would be a reason to have a dish rather than cable.

and you know what,

i bet i would accept the job as the guy who watches the games and presses the button when they go to long, and then presses the button when theyre over.

and i bet i only ask for two or three interns to help me.

cubs came back to win 7-6.

you'd think my tivo would have known by now that i might have been interested in seeing that, since i tivo anything cubs.

instead it recorded a cartoon on the cartoon network.

and i bet you could get a fifty cents extra a person a month for this feature, as an add-on, and i bet a million people would sign up for it.

and i bet i wouldnt even charge you close to a half million dollars a month to be cheif button pusher.

cubs are a game out of first place.

happy birthday aaron + mc brown at seybold + listen missy
can you believe that sometimes im worried about what to write on here. not worried really. apprehensive. i double think. fuck that. lets rock.

two hot chicks picked me up from work last night and drove me home and etc and how come raymi gets to walk around naked and bunnie gets to tell you every.thing. and i cant tell you about these girls and how they wanted to do everythingbut but we needed to go to the tsar show and we knew it started early and one of the girls sorta didnt want to go and i was all like youre out of your mind im not even going to discuss that because its like wait a minute are you crazy?

and she lifted up her skirt right there and why can raymi talk about this stuff but i cant. i know theres a reason. is it reverse sexism? is it cool for a hot chick to say i pushed him against the wall ripped his clothes off threw him to the ground and banged the hell out of him but can a guy write that.


what guy is blogging that right now to critical appeal.

should we forget about critical appeal.

of course we should forget about rotten assed critical appeal.

critical appeal just might have been why elvis costello stopped making great records after blood and chocolate.

perhaps if he never had critical appeal and was always trying to get it, or even better, resigned to never getting it, he would have been more creative, more punishing, less conceited.

ive never had two girls before. had three but thats way different. way.

and since nothing in here is true we got to tsar late. late. and only heard two songs. two. and the girls didnt care. didnt. drove me to the nearby tommys we ate chili burgers. one of us didnt because she had never had chili before.

she had never had chili before.

22 years old, rich, yet never had chili.

asked me what was in it.

maybe she was kidding.

i dont know, meat, smooshed tomatoes. how do you describe tommys burgers chili to a girl who cant wait to take you back home immediately to finish what was so innocently started with a trip to le pleasure chest where it was decided that everyone had to leave with two purchases delivered in fake foreign accents.

being 109 years old ive heard my fair share of fake foreign accents, and must say that i was impressed by both of the young ladies and their ability to not only mimic the tongue but successfully complete the transaction with only one hysterical outbreak of giggling.

i was quickly outnumbered when my front door was bolted when we arrived at the hollywood crashpad and whereas my pleasure chest finds were intended to bring pleasure i was stunned to discover that theirs were for restraint, submission and regret.

who would have expected that with two girls with cat collars who i had just met off the internet.

one who had just had her first french fry scooped into a layer of chili

which she found delicious.

of course.



flink + lauren + bitter girl

   Friday, September 12, 2003  
exclusive interview with the president of the united states of america.

hi mr. president.

hi tony, thanks for granting me this interview.

but of course. what made you decide on doing this now, and with me?

well, my approval rating has dropped 40 points since two years ago and only the elderly watch larry king, so i figured i better start working on getting re-elected with the young people as soon as asap.

mr. president, is it true that you knew about 9/11?

i still dont know about 9/11, tony.

what about all the briefings that you got up to a month before 9/11 that told you that bin laden was plotting several "spectacular" attacks on america using explosives.

parder, we get so many briefings, its retarded.

should the american people distrust the bush administration when people like the national security advisor, condi rice, say months after the tragedies that there was no way to have known that "these people would take an airplane and slam it into the World Trade Center, take another one and slam it into the Pentagon" when more than a few of your "retarded" briefings said that he would do just that.

people can trust whoever they want to. if you're calling ms. rice a liar, you better not say it again, thats all i have to say. we have nothing to hide because we're not liars.

then why are you withholding the CIA executive briefing from August 16, 2001? Congress would like to read it because they believe that in that brief you were told about what was going to happen on 9/11.

let me tell you a little something about being President of the United States. When you are president, you have the power to exercise whats called Executive Priviledge, thats what i did with that briefing and others.

dont the american people deserve to know what the CIA told you about Osama Bin Laden three weeks before 9/11?

it's in the best interest of national security that that information is not released to the people. americans, canadians, or those who are our enemies.

could you summarize what you are withholding in that document?

i could, but i wont. not to you. its secret.

in that document did the CIA tell you that osama might use commercial planes to destroy populated buildings?

dont you know what secret means?

which is more important to the country, mr. president, your political future or the safety of the american people.

that's a stupid question.

why did you have john ritter killed?


thank you for your time, sir.

uh, thank you, for yours.

bunnie + howard owens + simon world

Come and knock on our door,
We've been waiting for you!
Where the kisses are hers and hers and his,
Three's Company, too!

Come and dance on our floor,
Take a step that is new.
We've a loveable space that needs your face,
Three's Company, too!

You'll see that life is a ball again,
Laughter is calling for you!
Down at our rendezvous...
Three's Company, too!

johnny cash

american recordings, 1994

"delia's gone"

Delia, oh Delia, Delia all my life
If I hadn't-a shot poor Delia, I'd have had her for my wife

Delia's gone, one more round, Delia's gone

I went up to Memphis, and I met Delia there
Found her in her parlor, and I tied her to her chair

Delia's gone, one more round, Delia's gone

She was low-down and trifflin', and she was cold and mean
Kind of evil make me want to grab my sub-machine

Delia's gone, one more round, Delia's gone

First time I shot her, I shot her in the side
Hard to watch her suffer, but with the second shot she died

Delia's gone, one more round, Delia's gone

But jailer, oh jailer, jailer I can't sleep
'Cuz all around my bedside I hear the patter of Delia's feet

Delia's gone, one more round, Delia's gone

So if your woman's devilish, you can let her run
Or you can bring her down and do her like Delia got done

Delia's gone, one more round, Delia's gone
bye bye johnny

greatest country singer+songwriter since hank sr.

caption this, please

   Thursday, September 11, 2003  
rob brezney is the finest astrologer in the history of mankind


Libra Horoscope for week of September 11, 2003

"You're only given a little spark of madness," says Robin Williams. "You mustn't lose it." His advice is especially apt for you now. To aid your efforts, here are tips on how to keep a healthy level of insanity, by librarian Bonnie Wolf.

1. When people ask you to do something, ask if they want fries with that.

2. Have your coworkers address you by your wrestling name, Rock Hard Kim.

3. As often as possible, skip rather than walk.

4. Finish all your sentences with "in accordance with the prophecy."

5. Ask people what sex they are. Laugh hysterically after they answer.

6. Page yourself over the intercom. Don't disguise your voice.

7. At lunchtime, sit in your parked car with sunglasses on and point a hair dryer at passing cars. See if they slow down.

8. In the memo field of all your checks, write "for sexual favors."

9. When the money comes out of the ATM, scream "I won! I won! Third time this week!"

10. Put your garbage can on your desk and label it "in."

11. Put mosquito netting around your work area. Play a tape of jungle sounds all day.

12. Dont use any punctuation marks

13. Specify that your drive-through order is "to go."

14. When leaving the zoo, start running towards the parking lot, yelling "run for your lives, they're loose!"

15. Tell your children over dinner, "Due to the economy, we are going to have to let one of you go."

16. Put decaf in the coffee maker for three weeks. Once everyone has gotten over their caffeine addictions, switch to espresso.

rob brezney
i hate this fucking day. people dont know what to do. they dont know how to act. nobody knows what to wear. nobody knows what to say.

i dont like any of the patriotism today. there should be nothing. we should all have the day off.

only way to get back at someone is to give them the day off.

you terrorized us into a day at the beach, gratzi.

its nice in LA but they got planes flying around with banners that say united we stand and crap like that and its bogus. thats such an empty and hollow catch phrase.

people have their flags on their cars again, not in the droves they did before, but i see them and they do nothing for me.

how can you be more American today? is there something? theres nothing. which again makes me think we should just have the day off and go see a parade, or go to the track, or catch a ball game, or call a hot chick who you havent had the nads to call.

i remember two years ago they let us out early and i walked up the street and i saw my work crush going into a record store and i was thinking how i never see her outside of the workplace and how great it would be to get to know her and have lunch with her.

but my mind was crazed that afternoon, im sure hers was too. it was nuts.

ironic that this would actually be a holiday that people could get behind. its not religious, its not for some president(s) that nobody alive ever voted for. it's not a hallmark holiday. it's a real thing and a real reason to spend time with one's loved ones and family and reflect and appreciate life.

and most people would just sit around and watch tv which is what most of us did two years ago, but thats ok, tv's not always bad.

having your country muddle through a crappy day, a day that still is very sensitive to more than a few americans is a bad idea.

since our president is so fearless about spending money that the nation doesnt have, i say he make this day a holiday and let people observe the most infamous date in us history.

next year for sure im calling in sick.

welch + splink + buzz machine live from nyc
this is a tough day for the busblog cuz i dont write about sad things very often.

theres a few ways for this blog to approach this day. i could just totally ignore it, i could totally be sad, i could totally try to instill hope and some fucked up silver lining.

i could remind you that Bush Knew.

i could write an open letter to the evil doers and call them pussies, etc.

i could remind you that the $75 billion or whatever the bill is for the cowboy vengefullness hasnt really made anyone feel any safer or brought any of the accused to "justice."

i could talk about the strength of american resolve.

i could write about how we're all one people.

i could quote bob marley. ghandi. angus young.

i could just write about the cubs and ignore the day in a fit of apathy to those who wanted to gain attention in their sick little way.

i could write more about the madpony girls.

i could tell you about how we had a big meeting this morning here at the xbi as to whether or not we should just take this day off and especially ground chopper one since the skies might not be so friendly since the feds are probably keeping a closer eye on air travel today.

but i think im going to write instead about this family i saw on the subway today.

cute mexican family. mom with a tiny little 4 month old, and a three year old. dad with a four year old. young parents. no baby stroller.

everyone was smiling. 4 yr old saying bye to everyone as they got ready to get off the subway.

baby just smiling and smiling.

and then he touched me with his little baby hand.

and it felt great.

i think im going to write about that today.

go cubs.

happy birthday chris!
i kept telling you it was bound to happen. the mad pony girls have made the big time.

linked as a blog of note on the main page of, probably the most difficult and therefore most important hyperlink on the entire blogosphere, not to mention recognition from the creators of the medium.

nice damn job, ladies.

special congratulations needs to go out to kristin who kept the madpony phenomenon going when Shewhodoesnotpost chose to involve herself in highschool wrestling, flirting with inmates, and winning blue ribbons with her trusty bugsy.

kristin kept the site going despite her responsibilites at the sorority house and the panhellenic council, despite her job at the crazy shoe store, despite going to europe, and despite being a straight a student. is upbeat, wholesome, goofy fun. a look inside the lives of two nice girls who just want to dance. thats all.

you wont see any harsh words for anyone else on the web, you wont find pouting or wishlists, ads, slutty webcam shots, or links to xrated sites.

recently the blogfather himself, the instapundit, has been mentioning the oklahomans more than a few times which led to being permanently hyperlinked, and finally the insights of lauren and kristin were shared with the mainstream.

just in time for college football season.

and now blogger itself has issued the ultimate shout out.

how cool is that.

maybe this will inspire lauren to write a little more.

maybe it will inspire kristin to do more photo essays.

maybe it means we will finally get to meet the mythological mad pony, the namesake him/her self.

last years interview with lauren + kristin's european photo essay + dc

   Wednesday, September 10, 2003  
what good is having heroes if youre not going to be inspired by them, to the point of changing your behavior.

i wonder if playboy could use a blog.

of course they could, but i wonder what sort of blog they could really use.

i know the sort of blog i would like to read on playboy.

i would like to know day by day the process of putting together one of the most famous and interesting magazines ever.

i would be interested in reading about the mostly daily goings on in and out of the most famous private home in california.

and i think we are all curious on just how it is that hugh hefner could be living so large in the twilight of his fascinating career.

just like people, i think magazines and institutions have an uncomfortable struggle when talking about themselves.

but, come on, the playboy story and the hugh hefner story should be cake for the right writer(s) to document every day, as the pictures, and the comics, and the interviews one could get would be unlike anywhere else on the web.

and i think most men would probably do it simply for free room and board.

cubs lost today.

cards and stros won.

got to talk and chat with some very cool people.

tsar even sent me an email.

all ages show this friday night at the henry fonda theatre.

la has many mansions.

aint no bad dude + i want you to blog + sean
there's nothing i like better than kfc.

although yesterday i had some tom kha kai soup and if someone wanted me to do anything for them, including make out with their hideous stepsister, i woulda done it.

instead ben affleck and jennifer lopez called me up and asked me if the xbi could help them with their wedding this weekend in santa barbara.

and i said, for the right price we could help you with whatever you want.

they asked, could you kill all the paparazzi?

i said, the xbi doesn't kill anyone.

they said, but

i said, you dont lipsync and we dont kill anyone.

they said, got it.

i said, here's what you do, you tell everyone that you're going to get hitched in santa barbara, get a bunch of people to drive up to santa barbara and get security and make it a super big fakeout. theyre all extras. get a jlo and benlo impersonator to get dressed up in a dress and a tux and stand under a tent on the cliffs with 100 people gathered around you. when i tell you to have security, get a LOT of security rent-a-cops.

they said why.

i said, cuz it will make it look real.

then i said, meanwhile, you get hitched up in Big Bear Lake. it's close enough to LA that all the media that the news services and the paparazzi would use will be in Santa Barbara, but its far enough away from San Diego and Vegas and SF that no one can make a quick call and have someone up there fast. In fact the closest people who could get there will be in Santa Barbara.

then what you do is about a mile north of Ventura take three cars and park two of them side by side on the 101. theres only two lanes going in each direction on that stretch of the freeway. the third car will pick up the drivers of the abandoned two cars, and they drive away.

this will cause a traffic jam that will extend up to san luis obispo.

the 'azzi in santa barbara wont even be able to get on the damn freeway, let alone get to Big Bear Lake.

jlo said, i love you.

i said, you should.

she said, no really, lets get married.

i was all, well, uh

ben said, hey!

and then i said, ok.

but it was the soup talking so we just made out for a few minutes.

i like pretty things + ten gallon hat + chrystal
yesterdays bad guys shot up the bagel hut across the street which meant today i had to use the vending machines.

i always wonder what i will do when i retire from the xbi and most agents barely make it past 30, so to be 109, 110 in a month and a half, is pretty outrageous.

today i think i want to work for a vending machine company.

hopefully one of those japanese ones that have like 5,000 slots.

vending machines are nice. especially when theyre full of good stuff.

this morning i ended up with a minute maid apple juice and a two-pack of hostess cupcakes. except they werent hostess, it was some knockoff brand.

what i wanted was a bagel or a croissant or a muffin, which apparently is impossible here in southern california in the year 2003.

vending machines should be able to give me fresh fruits, a wide variety of juices and sodas, sandwiches, microwaveables, even magazines and baseball cards. and yet they dont.

the other day i met a guy who looked like elvis and i axed him if i could take his picture and he said no (pictured). i think he was afraid that i would do something freaky to the picture.

the other day i was chatting with a college student who said that she liked me because i didnt come across as a stranger.

i am a stranger though. and im strange. and im almost always happy which is strange. except recently i have hated my commute to work and being at work and you know what im going to stop complaining about it because its not making me happy and nothing good ever happens from complaining.

the other day i was on the phone with an amazingly hot girl who did things to me, oh man, that i cant even get into any details about right now because i dont even truly know what happened but it was porn, straight up. anyway she said she doesnt like the xbi stories that i write.

do you guys not want me to write about my superhero job?

sadly its the closest to the truth that i write in here.

very strange.

i think she doesnt like it because she thinks i work somewhere else. not somewhere else, actually, she knows exactly where i work, i dont think she knows that i dont work for where she thinks i work which is where her friend's ex-boyfriend works but if i worked there then how come... oh never mind.

i think she doesnt like those stories because she knows that they probably wont include mentions of her. and people like to get mentioned.

hi girl.

cubs won yesterday. linda says she likes it when i mention the cubs. cubs won. milwaukee coulda put houston away in the 8th but instead they gave up a frickin three run home run to tie it and then they gave up another run in the 9th to lose it so houston won making them tied with the cubs going into todays play.

but you know what astros, you barely beat milwaukee. that means you suck. that means the cubs will destroy you. that means the cards will definitely destroy you. my only hope is they dont sweep your ass.

hi houston.

hi vending company that i want to work for.

hi cool girl from this mornings chat.

hi president of the usa who secretly likes it when i do photo essays dissing him.

hi karisa who im pretty sure im hanging out with tonight.

hi chris who i talked to last night who understands me in such an intense way that i dont know what to do.

hi people who read this.


mc brown always makes me jealous + sk smith always writes better than me + dirty fez is down with nwa

   Tuesday, September 09, 2003  
hey, it's Google's 5th birthday

the official search engine of + busblog

did you know that if you click here you can search within the entire site, and the busblog?

it's true.

thank you google, happy little colorful silent partner of the world.

dethroner of the mighty yahoo.

defender of the faith.

finder of lost friends.

cacher of forgotten web pages.

buyer of blogger.

kickasser of the backwards search.

why dont you say a few nice things to your favorite search engine,

or even give some tips for what improvements youd like to see.

me, i would like to see Google buy Technorati or intergrate that technology.

or buy the cubs.
jessica simpson is my new girlfriend. and im am hopelessly in lust with her.

i dont care that she doesnt know the difference between tuna and chicken.

id kiss her on the nose and say, baby you know what tuna smells like.

and shed say, i do?

id say, it smells like every girl except you.

i dont care that she doesnt want to go camping, id say lets just set up a tent in our huge foyer.

i dont care that she doesnt like to clean. shit, i dont like to clean either. who really likes to clean?

i know one person who likes to clean, her boyband husband who tries to pretend that hes not gay.

theres nothing wrong with gay boyband singers. they just shouldnt marry prissy spoiled jealous britney wannabes and then get all uptight when they act like the little princesses that they are, and will always be.

nick says he has a five-year plan for ridding his bride from her spoiledness forgetting that she has been on a 21 year plan of her own which has peaked with her bringing her louis vuitton bag to yosemite.

personally i think thats cute.

as hell.

and my gucci condoms agree.

i think its great that nick likes to tidy and wears ironed shirts and likes to tear limbs off trees and turn that into firewood. but i dont think its great that he married a perfectly good blonde girl and wants to turn her into something that she isnt.

she loves him for some reason and gets omg jealous when he has a flock of hootchie mamas grinding all over him. guess what, some girls get jealous, and guess what, a few girls get super psycho jealous and ms. simpson is one of the latter.

so what nick needs to do is tell her repeatedly that shes hot, and shes the only girl for him. and that her ass looks great and that her fake titties look awesome and how all hes doing is making money for her perfumed hotness, and all those skank hos are doing is getting him riled up for her.

but he doesnt do that, as far as we can tell on mtv. all he does is look at them and stand up all stiff and let them get dirrty on him. what good is that? why would you want to make a jealous girl more jealous? what sort of f'ed up game is that? go in your backyard and put the red ants on the black ants but dont make your dearly beloved get so crazed that she accidentally gets two pairs of bras and panties for $900.

and when she calls you and tells you that she made a boo boo, you tell her its ok, that you can sell them on ebay and make double. tell her she did exactly the right thing. and you tell her to put those dirty things on and meet you at the Sly Fox on Crenshaw to play Business Man and Escort. room 17, next to the Fanta machine.

and then you use all the gay little moves that the fat men taught you, and you do them horizontally. pretty boy.

only thing worse than a boybander is one who doesnt know how to take care of his lady.

and im sick of taking her calls.


madpony + makeout city + listen missy
super hot exgirlfriend who's now a prison guard at a state prison a males state prison on death row where people dont give a fuck about threatening her told me that she would love for me to move into her 5 bdr 5 bath house and marry her and her cute little 5 yr old.

and i told her that im no better than a french mountain goat in a zoo trying to get some corn out of a dispenser except the goat is smarter. and she said why. and i said cuz the goat can shit where he wants to, he doesnt have to wear pants and eventually some asshole will put a euro in the machine and give him his damn dry corn.

bullets greeted me this morning at the xbi and i pitied the fool before i shot him in the eye.

to save the world i had written in cursive on a post-it last night and stuck to my computer monitor and i had forgotten and there it was with a little blood on it and it's good to remind you why you do the things you do and why you wake up in the morning and why you put your tights on one footsie at a time.

more bullets in the break room when i was digging around my back pocket for exact change because the juice machine hates me spun around didnt hit the ground because ive been to the edge and there i stood and looked down and i will not go down with a dollar in the juice machine and a quarter in my hand and shot that motherfucker in the nose and blood squirted everywhere and it was sick. the nose is gross as hell with a silver dollar sized hole in it and i suddenly didnt want the bear claw. but i did find the dime and hit the bloody button and out came the oj. hi.

thought about shooting his dead body but, so tired.

every morning ive been waking up more tired than the next. no good reason other than age and broken dreams. theres a little park behind the office where the nannys take the little white kids and swing em on the little swings and how could that be, something zipped past my ear. and then another and it clinked on the see saw.

thank god i didnt shoot that dead guy again cuz now i only had a few more bullets and i didnt know where the-- zing. SHIT. where was he. behind that car? no. ting. behind that palm tree. no.


ah there he is, under the mercedes.

i looked to the right of him like i didnt see him, i aimed about twenty feet away and then swiveled quick and unloaded everything under that car. a woman screamed down the street. i just sat there and watched the blood stream down the gutter.

and counted the hours until regis would come on.

waterslide + metrosexual + trinity xxx
not only do i like riding the bus, i love riding the damn bus.

today i saw a cute girl sitting on the lap of a guy in a wheelchair on the bus riding down wilshire.

they looked to be in love.

then on the subway i saw an attractive young woman squoosh inbetween two men so as to sit with them. they must all be good friends i thought.

and they tried to look at me like everything was super normal, but nothing was any more super normal than that painting of the two guys having a picnic with that one naked woman.

two hipsters got off before me. they didnt know where they were going. they were walking reaaaal slow. fuck them. she had buttons on her purse strap, his shorts were falling down fashionably revealing his paisley boxers.

he had a trucker hat in his hand. she was probably in a band. i just needed to get around them.

finally did. elevator full of women. then a man comes in and puts his finger on the up button and holds it there. i was insulted but then i remembered that there are idiots in every elevator, why not mine too.

made it to the house. got on the phone.

talked for hours with the girl who told me that we werent boyfriend/girlfriend for two weeks, but for three days.

talked to my true love

and asked my drunken chimp to write a couple entries for me.

ate a half bag of laura scudders baked cheese puffs

read an email from ashley

and passed out with the cubs still in first place.

liferants + katie + alecia
there was a belief at our college paper that a guy couldnt write a column every day.

it wasnt a belief that was challenged outside of the sports page, but despite all our great writers, i dont remember anyone who thought that they could honestly write thirty to fourty inches of opinon daily that would be as good or better than the stuff we normallyd put in there.

also the opinion page was the most-read page and why let one voice dominate a quarter of it.

still that didnt stop weirdos like me from getting on average of two bylines an issue throughout the paper, and we were daily. and thats one of the many reasons why i think blogs are so important.

yes the quality will go down with increased quantity, but quality will go up with increased practice. so production will not only improve your quality, but you'll make more of it with time.

in the college of creative studies they made us read a novel a week in our lit classes, thereabouts. they never talked about the theories of the college but the students had their own theories.

some of us figured that if you gave a classroom 10 books to read, they'd probably read 6-7. if you gave a different classroom 20 books to read, theyd probably read 10-12. and if you tell those kids there will be no tests or no grades because theyre so damn cool they might read 13-14 because theres no stress and you dont have to underline a bunch of crap preparing for some ridiculous midterm. you could simply read.

no grades did increase the amount that i read, so whatever they were doing worked.

if i taught a short story writing class there i would make the kids write a story a day. a long one. why not. maybe theyd get 4 written and one would be good. thats better than writing one a week and it not being any good. i wrote one good short story in college, but it was for hemingway class. it was a paper. i was mad at the teacher so... it was a good story. sadly neither the hemingway teacher liked it, nor the short story teacher.

the kids, however, loved it.

my favorite class at school was the diaries writing class. we all kept a diary. mine turned into more of a story about me and aj and how i chased her and how she said no. mostly. we'd make copies and pass them around and the teacher would read our "anonymous" entries outloud.

even then i was fascinated by other peoples lives and their takes on the world, and isla vista.

once this girl, one of my favorite diaryists said that she loved my tale that day so much that she wanted to quit writing because mine blew hers away. and i told her that if she quit writing then i would be very sad because i loved her diaries and she said you dont even know which one is mine and i said of course i do, you know which one is mine dont you and she said yes.

and i said, i write twice a day for the paper. i write every day for this class. i write a poem a day for poetry class. and a short story a week for short stories class. and then theres the papers for the lit classes. and all the damn books i have to read. and on top of that i read bukowski and the bible for fun. i better be a good writer after all of that.

i never saw her again.

i was listening to a lot of sonic youth this weekend. i dont think the kids are listening to any sonic youth any more. you can tell when you listen to good charlotte. kids wear nirvana tshirts and you need one cup of sonic youth, maybe two, to get nirvana, dummyheads.

the path is straight and narrow.

that seattle distortion comes from nyc

and if you dont hear dave grohl in goo then poor you.

you are so much better off when you write and write and write

especially when you really dont want to.

smythes world + howard owens + aint no bad dude

   Monday, September 08, 2003  
have i ever told you that i have the greatest friends? i do.

most of my friends are hot, or talented, or fun, or smart and some are several of these in one.

some are just rich.

some have eclectic wine collections.

some put on dazzling fireworks displays.

some come over to my house only to leave their sweat pants behind in not-so-clever manuevers to come back over to my pad in order to see me again.

not carlisa. carlisa is smarter than that, and cool, and has a dazzling fireworks cadre, and a hot sister, and a hot tub, and a hot company, and shes hot too, which is neither here nor there because she has a hook shot that will shut you down if youre trying to play one-on-one against her in the heat of the val.

her company, pink cookies, kicks ass, just like she does, and she has revamped her site to better represent all that she and her two sexy cohorts churn out in their magical wonderland.

so check it

on the new pink cookies site, you will see new airbrush designs on tshirts that say such saucy things like "fresh baked daily", short shorts that say "bootyful", and now she even worked out a deal with a hollywood blvd shoe store and you my friend, you can order those very shoes off the web for up to a 35% discount.

all because you have read the busblog.

just another service that we're giving mankind.

cuz we love you.

pink cookies
sometimes its hard to write when youre happy. and this blog is really hard to write becuause i cant tell the truth, i dont let myself bitch all the times that i want/need to bitch, and i dont let myself raise my fists in triumph when im stoked.

so lets talk about the first place cubbies.

lets talk about the hotties who came over yesterday.

lets talk about the hottie who spent the night with me and then took me to mcdonalds this morning on sunset and vine and who let me keep my hand on her leg that was all soft and miniskirted.

lets talk about her convertible jaguar and the howard stern on the radio and the news of warren zevons death which we just turned down for a sec cuz everything was going well and there were smiles everyone smiles everywhere.

sometimes it's hard to write about the happy days and sometimes you just have to try.

one of my old girlfriends tracked me down this weekend and i didnt remember her new last name and weve been out of touch for years and she said that she liked my "work" and that i was a sexy beast and that she had an old journal of mine and i wanted to say keep it so i did. cuz i had a feeling it was her because i dont give old journals to too many people.

this gurl i gave all of my first editions to. all of my poetry books i numbered and i gave her #1 for each of them. and that journal was actually a novel i tried to write in college about the crazy life that we lead there full of sex drugs rock and instead it should have just been about her because it would have been more of all of those.

and it might have gotten finished.

i miss my old pal and i am looking forward to catching up with her.

all i know is that my body is pleased, my tummy is pleased, my heart is happy, my eyes are bright and i even though its monday i am actually looking forward to fighting a little crime today.

how often does that happen.

so this one is for warren zevon who went to the second LA Blogger meeting ever. and i honored him by leaving him alone.

nice job on getting your cd out weeks before you ascended to the Good Place.

give my best to jimi and kurdt and babe ruth.

your pal,


blog critics has covered zevon better than anyone + pablo

   Sunday, September 07, 2003  

First car: 76 sedan de ville

First date: with mary to a hockey game

First real kiss: angela romano, 6th grade, spin the bottle

First break-up: mary, berkeley pier

First job: mcdonalds, santa monica

First screen name: GauchoTony

First self purchased album: meat loaf, bat out of hell

First funeral: mama dugas

First pet: old english sheepdog named tuffy

First piercing/tattoo: if it wasnt against the bible i would be covered in tattoos and have nipple piercings

First True Love: the cubs

First enemy: destiny

First musician you remember hearing in your house: barry manilow


Last cigarette: college

Last big car ride: when me and karisa went to santa barbara to see beck

Last good cry: golf n stuff in ventura, 1987

Last movie seen: wish you were here, bbc america

Last beverage drank: diet pepsi

Last food consumed: sausage and pepperoni pizza from vitos

Last crush: when my work cafeteria ran out of diet dr. pepper

Last phone call: jeanine

Last time showered: this morning before chris came over

Last shoes worn: reebok sandals

Last cd played: mixed eazy-e cd

Last item bought: lottery ticket

Last annoyance: some guy outside my window and his dumb cigar

Last disappointment: bears giving up 49 points

Last time wanting to die: when the yankees got aaron boone

Last time scolded: the cheif engineer didnt appreciate the fact that i flew chopper one home on friday upside down.

Last shirt worn: hawaiian shirt on friday

Last website visited: never let you down
today is shannon elizabeth's thirtieth birthday and im wondering if she ruined her career when she got married a few years ago and the answer is a resounding yes. i guess some people dont mind being known for just one role, just one movie, just one totally classic scene.

i guess some people dont want to learn from other sex symbols in the history of film, and even some current ones like cameron diaz who the week reports broke julia roberts' record for highest one-year earnings for an actress. apparently in 2001 cameron earned 42.2 million. roberts's record came the year before when she made 21.1 mill.

is love blind? but of course. does love make one foolish? duh.

but everything makes people foolish.

i won a poll the other day. i dont think many people voted. still, i won. it was for "most favourite blogger."

after the deal was over the guy said that my reward would be that he would take me off his list of links.

because everywhere he goes he sees everyone linking me.

anti came in second place.

anti kicks my ass sometimes.


anyway, the dude can delink me if he wants. in fact i would prefer it. i dont like it when idiots link to me.

the delinker has all these ideas about bloggers and what they do and why they do it, and why they link people.

let me tell you right now why you should link to me and why you shouldnt.

you should link to me if you like what im doing.

you shouldnt link to me if you dont.

i will never be the most popular blogger on the web. that will always go to the current eventers and the cam girls.

site meter says i get between 750-1000 hits a day. yes thats more than most, but its not even close to some. not even close.

theres ways to get this blog more hits. i could start kissing ass all around the internet. i could write back to people who email me. i could comment in the blogs of others. i could show titties. i could talk politics. i could campaign. i could write about my amazing and talented friends more. i could show you what it is to be a blog whore.

i could lie like drudge. i could get on tv as some sort of dumbass blog expert. i could quit swearing. i could start telling the truth. i could show you pictures of the girls i date. i could make a photo essay a week. i could inherit the earth like the meek.

and shannon elizabeth, if it would pay me between 21.1 and 42.2 million, guess what, i'd do it.

but this isnt my career, this is a science experiment performance art poetry reading

this isnt a lookatme contest.

not this one.

instapundit saw the popularity of drudge and did almost exactly the same except added real commentary and smart commentary and funny commentary and links all over the web instead of just where the puppetmasters told him to go. instead of being a tool, he actually is providing a service.

seems pretty obvious to me that if you want to get hits,
do what those two did

and dont do this.

now, are you ready for some football.

gweilo diaries + steph + anti