tony + mary!
busblog at gmail dot com

nothing in here is true


   Saturday, December 06, 2003  
until i really get advertisers or serious inquireries, i should be able to write whatever the hell i want to write. no?


sexpeciallially on sex saturday.

too young girls appeared at my door last night. young but not illegally young, and they were holding hands which is the univeral sign of immediate entrance. one led the other in. it was cute. i shut the door behind them and locked it.

the lawyer of the printer emailed me back the blook II pdf and included this in the message: i think one of the things that bothered me a lot was the excessive emphasis on sex/girls. it was kind of exhausting and i think you are way better than that.

everyones a critic.

one girl was blonde the other was dark blonde. both were naked within minutes because thats how it has to be.

we smoked cigarettes even though i dont smoke. we played a game called do something dumber than the next person and that was fun. they couldnt drink any of my booze because they werent yet of age but they didnt care. not everyone needs liquid courage.

i put in the white stripes and the blonde girl said, thats so spring. so i put in the doobie brothers greatest hits and they started to dance together.

i dont know why the good things happen in my life any more than i know why the bad things happen, but i have officially stopped trying to figure it out and started to learn to enjoy it.

like this.

one of the girls was clearly in charge in the relationship and pushed the other into the leather couch and sorta mashed her face into the arm rest. my house is messy but they didnt care. i was watching and taking pictures but they didnt care about that either.

the phone rang someone spoke into the machine. nobody listened. all we listened to was the dark blonde getting into it. whipping her hair back out of her face so she could see her friends hand and me and she couldnt see with her eyes half closed like that, breathing out of her mouth

quite frankly im suprised this doesnt happen to more bloggers.

i didnt think i was in trouble til they turned their attention toward me.

i was sipping on a tumbler of 151 with just a whisp of coke. sometimes just sitting resting it next to a bottle of coke is enough.

they asked me over to the couch, i politely declined. it was nearly midnight and i was going through the waiver wire to see which players i was going to drop and add for my nba hoops fantasy teams.

cuz i havent done so well in this young season.

maybe because of the excessive emphasis on sex/girls. it was kind of exhausting.

and i think i can be way better than that.

matt and em on vacation + mc brown at the watts christmas parade + amy says its snowing! so does tomdog!
because there arent nearly enough pictures of britney spears on the web. can i tell you about my favorite blog. can i really get away with giving the busblog awards for best blogs.

the answer for both is no.

no is my least favorite word so let me tell you about someone dear to my heart who i dont talk about much on here because shes sweet and doesnt deserve to be made fun of but today she called me from the waiting room of her chiropractor and i told her that i bet she doesnt realize it but she has a shrink, an astrologer, a regular appointment with her hair dresser, and a chiropractor.

i told her all she needed was a condo on the wesssside, a pilates instructor and an exhusband and she will have totally become a yuppie.

which she is far from.

im listening to mariah carey. listening and watching. melting doll girl asked me if i was against kazaa and i said hell no. just a minute ago i watched david letterman interview madonna in that interview where she said fuck a million times. and now im watching mariah in the vh1 divas concert. im not against the delivery system. i love the delivery system.

i think the entertainment world is against the only real billing system: micropayments. bill me a nickel every time i watch it or something. or a quarter a download. it could be done. some people need to be faced with their back up against the wall to figure it out. they will.

now im watching a lenny kravitz video where they .. "american woman " where they spliced in porn. charge me thirty five cents for that one. id pay. its good.

have people like me review it. i'll weed out all the riff raff. they'll figure it out. i dont have a shrink or an astrologer. i have dsl and dss and tivo and y.o.u.

and of course rum.

and blogger.

and soul train on my thirty five inch.

last night tragedy struck when i went to the printers to pick up blook II for your ass. the door was locked with a chain and a lock. there was a phone number on the door. i called it when i got home. it was a lawyers office. apparently my printer who had made blook I was a front for some illegal activity. i left my name and number and i was told that check this Blook II was being reviewed as to whether or not i had any connection to their misdoings. i said if the copy shop was a front then nothing in the copy shop could be connected. and they said not necessarily true, that they were investigating it.

fortunately i only had to put up half the price of printing costs when i submitted the pdf, so

but anyway it doesnt look like blook II will be out before christmas.

im thinking about not having it come out at all, just returning all your money and calling it a year.

i didnt like it anyway, and this sort of stuff makes me think that it shouldnta come out in the first place.

plus karisa didnt really like it.

plus my old poems suck.

plus it wasnt like people went crazy over the last one.

i had some fucked up dreams last night and i dont even dream.

id be flagrants cool neighbor + something very funny called "i use ms paint" + how all kids should be

   Friday, December 05, 2003  
caption this, please

today is the greatest

smoke fills the sky worst than smog like balloons
sent from underneath somewhere cruising above this
fair city checking out every crevice and wishing to die
somewhere around anaheim and when they get to
whereever they go they are asked what it looks like and
what its like
they'll say, ah, its fair.

it wasnt fair that i fucked you in your yellow boots
and made you keep your dress on and fell asleep as
you told me how you thought last summer
you were pregnant.

when i woke up i didnt think youd a still
been crying.
i was equally surprised we fucked that
well still.
and even though youll wanna forget me, you i wont

paul westerberg

and now i feel like everyone has left
and the mess is mine to clean
unseen blood down miles of forearms
slimy goo all red and green.
but im the brown thats in the middle
im the brown that no one owns,
bastard wolf dog alone and freezing
and no one hears his moans.

theres a fastball flung and burning high
a nightmare in my eyes
my guts got stuck in quicksand
and you all think it's lies.
and the sunset's grey
and everyday i wake up and walk around
and find im lost
and need a nametag
in my dirty own hometown.

both from the upcoming secret chapter of Blook II called Juvenalia, the early poems which currently is as cheap as it will ever be, and includes free shipping.
meat eater

two poets walk into a bar,

the bartender rings a bell, two poison darts whistle across the room over the pool table under the Bud light and into their "hearts".

they gasp, cover their chests and then faint.

now ive seen a lot of things in my day

i mean just the other day i walked into my roommate dans room

everything i say is true

and there were these three horny

i wouldnt waste my lies on



and ive seen good

the thuds of the two bloating poet-bodies makes the wolf dog raise his head from his paws.

he gets up from under a table and walks casually over to the scene. he sniffs and looks over at the bartender who's searching for a hand ax

like for example just the other day me and rene were at this Tawainese Hot Pot where all you can eat you go and get your meat raw from the back get your veggies bring em to your booth toss em into this hot pot thats boiling at your table make your soup while "barbeque-ing" on the aluminum foil that surrounds the pot

wolf dog sniffs the crotch of the larger poet who's mumbling something uncomprehensible but in perfect meter i think he was saying help help help

dog positions himself in such a way i mean his hind legs are on this poets chest and his furry red sick looking is in almost entirely and he's humping and he's choking tails wagging and he's looking at the bartender with mouth closed and then back up at the ceiling mouth open and then back at his repositioning front paws

and his buddy cant move and his buddy gets a woody its moving and wolf dog sees this

stops what hes doing tail stops wagging dis mounts cuz he thinks somethings alive in there but theres nothing alive in nothing these poets have ever done. maybe an automatic reaction. like getting a boner while your buddy gets mouth raped by a dog. maybe an automatic reaction. like writing a load of negative crap when youve got nothing to say no new stories to tell no new ways to tell em no new rhymes to bust out no new secrets to let out meat eater bottom feeder stealer of lies you even bore the poor youre a landing strip for flies.

from the upcoming secret chapter of Blook II called Juvenalia, the early poems which will skyrocket to $42 unless you act now.
let's get it on

theres a timebomb
in the front room
bored Death is filing his nails
a dog's snarling softly
beneath the toadstool
and im just playing pool
"as soon as youre through
you're coming with me
but if you like
i'll take you now"
and i felt like drinking
ice water
and setting my head on fire.
Death stood up
and removed his hat
and walked his way towards me,
the light froze solid
beneath his black locks
and he looked like
he shouldnt be.
he looked 8 feet tall
and gorgeous,
his tits began to grow
his cape shrunk up
and his voice got high,
and he wasnt a guy no more.
so we popped in "18" Alice Cooper
and threw off all our clothes,
lit the candles, poured the whiskey
and we racked up all the balls.
"I never knew you
played both ways,"
Death he said to me
i said you never know now do ya
do ya
and as the sun began to rise
Death lowered himself
to the ground
and asked if i wanted a blow.
i broke, sank two
and politely
told that fucker

from the upcoming secret chapter of Blook II called Juvenalia, the early poems which is available until monday at a ridiculously low price.
im watching oprah. its one fifteen am. ive lost my mind. ive given up trying to find it. i hope it blows under a crack in the french doors and floats away.

saw my cat losty today. hes looking pretty fat. he knows hes mine. saw him on the brick wall as miss montreal was following me into my house. she warned me not to pet him. i think she thought it was cuz she didnt know it was my cat. i noticed his collar was missing. he must be on the lam.

my minds on the lam. walked past this chick today and we lowfived. people can talk shit all they want and i bet you the world those people arent getting lowfived as they head into their helicopter.

ive been on double secret probation for that little incident when the cubs were in the playoffs and i accidentally hit the wrong button. its been a lot of pressure but its only made me better. things will only get better because theres no way they could have been any harder. problem with what i get paid to do is that there are so many ways to mess up bigtime and theres so many distractions and obstacles.

other people might not know it, but they could be making it so easy for me to make a mistake.

its like being a hockey goalie. it doesnt matter if they take 40 shots on you one night or 80, if you give up 5 goals people are going to say, pierce gave up 5 goals?!?! and theres hardly anyone around to say, they took 80 fucking shots on his ass last night.

nobodys around to pay for my work sins.

did you know that carson daly still has a late late night show?

carson daly?

george bush is president and carson daly is still on tv.

if it wasnt for rush getting closer to going to jail and for ashley emailing me a very nice sentence and for virginia letting me talk with her on her radio show, today would have been just an a-minus

miss montreal kissed me after we got mcdonalds, and that was cool too.

chokey chicken + monique + moxie

   Thursday, December 04, 2003  
blook II is a pain in the ass. im not sure i ever want to do a blook again. this is what publishing houses are for. theyre suppose to edit it, make it, sell it. then put me on the road and make me follow the trail of golden coins.

as you know for editing the blog i have the mighty ken basart, of whom im eternally grateful.

as for the blook, i have two great editors working on the thing. i first have sepi who hand picked the posts, and i also have karisa who is arranging and editing the text.

i love karisa and one reason is cuz she tells me how great this blook is. how much better it was than the last one. i trust her because she knows she doesnt have to bullshit me to get down my boardshorts. shes also a speed reader and goes through a novel every other day. so when she tells me that i kicked ass on this blook i believe her, for a second.

currently i still cant read anything that i have read over the last year, which is troubling because thats the period of time that Blook II covers. when i read it i hate it. when i look at it it makes me squint. it makes me feel like everything i write is all about i i i i i i i i i i which is what blogs, i imagine, are supposed to be about, but i dont see why it would be interesting to anyone else.

but alas, im interested in most peoples blogs and all they usually write about is i i i i i i i i i i.

i just want the thing to be out there. i want it over. but every day i get more and more orders and it makes me sick to my stomach.

i raised the prices in hopes that nobody would buy them and on monday 12/8 im going to raise the prices again to $42 per blook in order to discourage anyone from buying one, but also to help make the blooks more rare.

so my little hint to you, kind reader, is if you want this thing, or last years thing, order them now cuz the price is going to basically double and next year im going to probably not do it at all.

id also like to address the idea of editors and blogs. many people define the blog as something that is typically not edited. it's one way that "real" journalists can seperate themselves from we lowly internet scribes... who dont matter... who arent important... who have nothing to say... who cant write... because we dont have editors.

obviously i disagree with their theories and i can simply point to lil rags like the new york times who have floors of editors and still wind up making gigantic gaffs and exposing themselves as being mere mortals.

here at the busblog, and in the blogosphere, we have no problem telling you that whatever you read in here you should take with a grain of salt, editor or no.

Blook II will be slightly better than the busblog because of a second pair of eyes, or three pairs. i believe in editors. i like the process of being edited. i like other people's opinions on the way to tell a story and how to present it. but for the most part this is a one-man show and it, i argue, might be better off that way.

the voice of the writer will remain stronger, the timeliness will be quicker, the freedom to think of ideas will be greater, and the amount of work will be bigger.

you will end up with more grammatical, factual, and spelling mistakes but who cares, youre a click away from "professional" writing and odds are you wont go there.


because blogging and good blogs are far more edgy, more entertaining, and closer to whatever truth there is than the hundred monkeys running around most newsrooms in america who dont know fuck wouldnt know fuck and cant say fuck and wouldnt know how to write fuck even if their lives depended on it, which is why they dont have blogs.

thats why.

get blook II before the prices double + hear my ass on the radio tonight with virginia
bullets ricochetted around the office this morning, i dont know why and i didnt care why. all i knew was i stood up and listened and i shot at where i thought it was coming from and then it stopped and then i sat down.

people looked at me at first like damn, g, and then they thought wait, that guy didnt even care. and nope. i didnt even care. im reading this kurt kobain book and i love it. the guy cant write or tell a story but he sure has the facts.

i didnt know that like 6 people in his family shot themselves or drank themselves to death before he did. im happy and sad to read this. happy because it seems like it wasnt entirely his fault that he did that to himself, that somehow it was heredity and environment.

im sad cuz i miss him and it sucks that hes not the one being nominated for all these awards this year instead of dido.

turns out he didnt sleep under the bridge on the muddy banks of the wishkah. turns out he didnt trade guns for his first guitar, turns out he did trade guns for a sweet amp.

the girls are wearing scarves here in hollywood and longer skirts and tall boots. agent m told me that the xbi pulls the hottest babes in all the town and i look around and i think theres gotta be somewhere better but he assures me that no, its all about the xbi.

after the mad scramble and people slowly peeking from behind their desks someone got up and looked over to the spilling blood and shot the dead body a few more times and one of the bullets bounced off the floor or the skull and shattered a nearby window which i was always under the impression was shatterproof.

and once again i am here to tell you that the man who is willing to offer the lowest price shouldnt always win the bid.

3rd Leg breaks it down + Livia + cup o goodness
i dont have the most confidence in a lot of areas of my life. strangely, that can be liberating.

a few hot chicks, as ive reported, have been kind enough to show me their nude bods on their web cams. one of them was so generous as to get me a web cam off my amazon wish list. so naturally yesterday when it arrived i did a funny little strip show for her and even gave her the much-promised bonercam shot.

i was shocked how easily i stripped down for this virtual stranger.

truly i dont have much to show, but i positioned the camera low enough so that it made my three inches look like they were ten.

she was also on her web cam and it was great to see her jaw drop at the optical illusion, and it was totally funny to watch her clap and then cover her mouth and nod her head.

i want you, she typed.

i had a sharpie nearby. one that i label my burned cds with. i put it next to my schween to lend some perspective. she remained impressed.

i put a blank cd next to it, also so as to compare. again she applauded.

then i put a 2 liter of diet dr pepper next to my johnson. not a great idea. but being an angel, she didnt care. just laughed.

move here she typed.

she lives in australia.

who wouldnt want to move to australia for a while?

i moved my camera around my living room, then i showed her my thinning hair. she said i was crazy to think i was anything less than wonderful.

i love you, nice girl, i typed.

and she typed a similar response back.

in other news, im going to be on the radio tonight with virginia and i fucking kick ass on the radio.

   Wednesday, December 03, 2003  
yes, virginia, of course i will be on your radio show tomorrow night.

nothing would make me happier.

not world peace, the cubs signing pudge, paris hilton wearing a busblog tshirt, or playboy hiring me to write a blog.

however i will take those offers if they come in as i have nothing better going on other than saving the lives of innocents as they cruise around los angeles trying to live good lives.

but yes, virginia, not only would i like to be on your radio show tomorrow night, but i would LOVE to be on your radio show tomorrow night.

heres what i would like you to do though:

i would like you to get your hands on some Tsar music. maybe some Corvids tunes. maybe you could go to Ken Layne's site and download some so we can play it for all the kids of the world.

your radio show is on the Internet still, right? therefore the entire world will be privy to our witty banter and dulcet slow jams. so lets rock the party with the west coast swing.

i would also like to see if we can call kristin pony again, except this time i would prefer it if we could hear each other somehow, someway. you kids are in college, im sure you can figure it out.

what i want to do is get kristin on the horn cuz shes living at home now and theres some goofy stuff that i want her to do there.

i also might have a cam by tomorrow so maybe we can do something with that.

who knows.

anyhow, yes.

in fact hell yes.

in fact you should warn maryland that the busblogs gonna make a special announcement tomorrow night at 11pm EST, 8pm PST.

for your collegegirl ass

click here to listen ... yes, you need Real Player, i recommend getting the latest copy.

virginia + gorilla mask + bunnie
how do i love paris? let me count the ways. i cant believe that theres even debate over whether or not shes pretty.

its nearly as shocking to me as someone like dc putting me on the top of his links list and then saying he never got JD Salinger.

its like, what?

paris just might be the most beautiful girl in town. and this is a big town. sure she looks a little manly sometimes in the face. and shes frighteningly thin, but isnt that hip these days?

yeah she has no boobs to speak of, shes got no ass, her nose is longer than most, and she dates all the wrong men, but big whoop. she likes short skirts and making out. whats not to love?

i also like her hair.

this morning i realized how much i enjoy commuting. i like the walk to the subway, i like reading as i wait for the train, i like standing up and reading, i like transferring to the other train, i like getting out of the train and walking up the stairs.

i like hating the people on the escalator who stand on the left side of the escalator. i like getting on the bus - especially if its empty. i like reading an entirely different book on the bus. i like riding along and occassionally looking at all the interesting people.

i like how mellow and quiet it can be.

i like walking the few blocks from the bus stop to the xbi.

and then i like turning on my computer and seeing all your sweet comments.

if i had a car i dont think i would like the commute as much. in fact im sure i wouldnt.

karisa is going to have me cat-sit her kitties over christmas vacation and shes letting me use her xterra and as much as that will be convienent for certain things like laundry and grocery shopping, i will miss my little morning routine, which is vital because when i get to work im usually bombarded immediately.

my job is really hard. and the hardest thing is is i can never look good at it. either youre doing your job and big deal, or youre fucking up and people get a chance to berate you. it's like being a very low paid airplane pilot. if you do it right you just have to go do it again. if you fuck up everyone dies and your widow wears black.

i dont know how i got stuck in this situation. but i do feel stuck.

only thing keeping my spirits up is you, and the unproven belief that everything happens for a reason.

melting dolls + adrants + inluminent
my girl paris was on fire tonight. i hope you saw her. i love that she doesnt know anything. do they sell walls at wal*mart, tony? what are wells for?

your total is $68.51 for all your groceries, paris.

all we have is $50, can we get the rest free?

yes you can, baby.

much as you want.

i love that her size 0 lowrider jeans fall off of her skeletor body.

i love that she has a cup titties

but only when shes bloated

i love that when she introduces herself she says

hi, im paris.

aint no beatin that shit.

i love that she doesnt know how to work an automatic transmission

how she doesnt like dead animals

unless theyre purses or pants or pork chops

i totally love that she drives too fast.

you know youre pretty good lookin

oh yeah

pretty good lookin

youre pretty good lookin

oh yeah

for a girl

watched rules of attraction off my tivo.

pretty awesome.

then me and karisa talked on the phone for hours.

fucked up thing. shes got way better stories for your ass than i do.

simone + lawless + get yourself the corvids cd for christmas!

   Tuesday, December 02, 2003  
saw a hot chick on the bus this morn. she was clearly eating cherries. as you know there is no eating, drinking, or loud music allowed on the bus.

youre not even supposed to have unnecessary conversations with the operator. but hot chicks can get away with whatever they want.

ive never understood that.

do we as men really think that if we're simply nice to a pretty girl that she will become overwhelmed with the desire to procreate with us?

i seriously think we do.

i know the busdriver sure was checking her out eating those cherries in his rearview. i sure know the sleepy guy with his security uniform on was watching every bite. i sure know the two armenian guys speaking armenian were talking about her and smiling and whispering and then laughing and looking.

even my buddy with his little brown sack deceptively hiding his morning can of pabst had both his blood shot eyes checking her out.

and then there was me. your hero. i too watched her because it was amazing. full on disregard to the laws of the bus was going on right in front of me, and nobody cared.

if anything they were jazzed by it.

i put my nose back into salingers nine stories thinking about how perfect "a perfect day for banannafish" is and how i will never be able to write that way in a zillion years, never mind a million.

and soon our girl wrapped her cherry stems into her awaiting papertowel, she then folded that into the ziplock sandwich bag, and then stuffed it into her hello kitty leather purse.

only thing she could have done more unconsiousable would have been if she had poured herself a coffee from a thermos and then lit up a smoke.

instead she asked me what time it was and i nodded to the new overhanging l.e.d. signs that have been installed that say "stop requested" for the hearing impared, and then show the date and time so you know how late youre running.

another nice thing the mta did during the strike was agree that anyone who had an October bus pass could use that one until the end of the year.

which is probably a good thing to do since the passes will go up in price by 20% in january.

tonight my girlfriend paris hilton will be on tv but im stuck doing laundry at karisas.

damn my terrible luck.

in other news: noooooooooooooooooo

no left turn unstoned + amy + biz stone, genius
for some reason any house i live in, any town i live in, any planet i glide around in, i cant get the howard stern show on my radio clearly.

when i lived in frisco it was on some san jose station that you could barely hear in the city.

here in LA its on 97.1 which for some idiotic reason comes in terribly in hollywood. doesnt matter what radio i have it playing on.

so lately ive been listening to danny partridge and some chick.

its so bad that its encouraging.

listening to danny and this chick every morning i realize that anyone can have a radio show, anyone can make good money, anyone can be a star.

it means that maybe, just maybe, some of the ideas i have about taking over the world, i mean, the media, can come true.

i kid.

i just want to take over this blog.

i want this thing to be better, funnier, faster, tighter.

i want to see more people borrow from the design of this thing, to take a chunk from the style, etc.

last year we saw lots of people interview themselves, or interview their blogs, or interview inanimate objects.

this year im finally seeing some photo essays out there.

and recently it seems like everyone is audblogging.

im sure its just a coincidence. but its a nice one.

imitation is the highest form of flattery and flattery will get you everywhere.

made lust to a beautiful girl last night, america.

i have these huge windows right next to my bed and i have this little area where the blinds dont close all the way, and i get super paranoid that people will be able to see through that little area while im performing very intimate acts, so i usually put a pillow there.

this hot chick always rolls her eyes at me when i do this, and of course last night i noticed that we were RIGHT NEXT to the crack in the drapes and anyone who walked past could have seen things that theyve probably only seen at the end of that paris hilton sampler.

so i put the pillow there.

then we went about our business.

and after it was over i rang the little bell and the swedish interns came in with towels and cold drinks i noticed that the pillow had totally been kicked aside.

and my gorgeous visitor said Good cuz she thinks im nuts.

im not nuts.

just very shy, deep down.

but i could still beat danny partridges ass on the radio.

jarrett + doc searls + seliot
have i told you i have showtime and ive been watching the reagans? and i even watched the reagans panel discussion that was also shown on showtime?

discussion: dumb
mini series: pretty good

cbs fucked up by not airing it. i don't care what their numbers were this past month. they sold out to the right, they're the bitch of the conservatives, and they let the rich and elite do their programming, soon they'll be asking jeb bush how they should bang their wives.

james brolin does an excellent reagan. scary good. finally i consider this guy an actor.

as for the whiners on the right who bitched about it. they need to chill.

they need to stop mimicking rush and drudge and oreilly and all the others out there who squoosh their faces and waggle their fingers. reagan for all his phoniness and bungling and arms for hostages was totally loved by a ton of people in this country.

he doesn't need your fucking help. nor does his legacy. no miniseries on cbs is going to bring his dying ass down.

still alive and there's an airport and a freeway named after him.

everyone gave him a pass on his economics. everyone believes he singlehandedly destroyed communism.

everyone, including me, thought he was funny

but of course i think a lot of things are funny.


republicans are in the drivers seat and they've been in the drivers seat since reagan. only two things have derailed them temporarily 1) their incessant bitching 2) their undying lust affair with the bush clan.

if the right simply approached politics as unemotional businesspeople and economists they would come across as more intelligent, less fascist, and far more interesting.

bill oreilly and matt drudge look and sound like they went to the exact same back alley to get sticks shoved up their asses.

oreilly cant even sit straight.

drudge cant do anything straight.

watch rush fidget and readjust.

i don't want to identify with someone who has something stuck up their ass.

that's not where my inspiration comes from.

an optimist, and americans are known for their optimism, finds great value in possibilities

where is the enlightend visionary of the right, bubbling over with hope for the future, pride from the past, and finger on the pulse of today. courageous enough to embrace the responsibility of leadership and stand up to the rising tide of mediocrity while affecting positive change in the face of empty fears and baseless cowardice.

wherever he or she is, i bet they're not sweating bullshit made-for-tv movies.

i had thanksgiving with my truest

coyote's incredible travel photos + sara and dan and tofurky + souptree

   Monday, December 01, 2003  
heads are rolling people are stepping down. feelings are getting hurt.

let me tell you right now. i do NOT want to head up Disney. send the wheelbarrows home. send the dancing girls back to where they belong. and for the love of pete send Pluto back. i like Goofy, not Pluto.

plus i just want to write. i just want to travel the globe. i just want to blog.

i dont want to fix Disney.

i would blog about Disney. i would blog about Hollywood Records. I would blog about Tsar touring on Hollywood Records with what will most probably be the hottest rock record of 2004. but im not going to fix the mouse.

if i were to fix the mouse i would start with bible stories. disney loves to take old, uncopywritten stories and water them down. the old testament is full of stories they could plunder. they did a halfassed job with Prince of Egypt but havent really tried with much else.

if Disney came out with a bible story each Christmas every year for the next 20 years it would appease the so called religious right and it would open up the good book and so many of the great stories in there for people around the world.

then i would overhaul ABC. only thing worth watching on abc nowadays is madden doing monday night football.

first thing i would do is bring back american bandstand with dick clark, but it would be an hour and it would be on friday nights at 7pm and it would have huge stars and up n comers. then there would be music videos till midnight. and at midnight there would be the ABC Rock Concert.

and it would rock.

this week the Strokes, next week Marilyn Manson, the week after that Slayer.

Christina Aguilera had her live concert on the WB last night. nobody talked about it, nobody watched it, nobody cared. ABC shoulda shown that shit. and it shoulda been on at midnight.

according to jim? gone.

nightline? gone.

threat matrix and extreme makeover? GONE.

i would take conan or howard stern and i would give them the late night slot against leno and dave. i would destroy them.

oprah would get off her black ass and find her way into prime time. sure she'd still do the afternoon thing, but abc is blowing it by letting her coast. work that ho. have her introduce movies like they do on amc.

monday night baseball would come back on abc, and saturday afternoon baseball would debut. its the national pasttime, bitches. show some respect. and what could be finer than waking up with john miller on a saturday afternoon to give you the Game of the Week?


the Disney movie would be on Thursdays. quit it with trying to hoard those tapes. show them on abc too. in primetime against Friends. the people buy your stupid Dumbo tapes anyhow. many times over.

ok, my 15 minute break is over, but once again i dont want to run the studio, i just want to blog about it.

thanks anyhow


green{e}house effect + soundbitten + buzzmachine
yesterday, i believe, was our girl splink's 23rd birthday.

hard to tell since everything about her is a mystery.

you'd think that after a year of linking her and talking about her and occasionally emailing and chatting i'd have a little info on her but i dont.

and she coulda come to one of the tsar shows lately and said hi or i coulda gone to the troubadour and looked around for a runway model trying to hide, but neither of us did that. and its not my style. i like to give people their space.

flagrant k. splink was born in the wisconsin dells in the back seat of a chevy cutlass during tommy bartlett water show. always the jokester she would hold her mommas hand in the mall and suddenly scream, IM BEING KIDNAPPED! and then laughing her little girl head off when the security arrived.

soon she became a runway model but didnt like the hours. only chanel would allow her to work from 6p - 9p Monday thru Wednesdays but even that became tiresome to our girl, who quit and became a porsche saleswoman in encino.

she broke all sorts of sales records and quit when she met a young black college basketball player named lamar.

they made beautiful love all over hollywood, santa monica, and the valley. they made such a stunning couple. he was tall and dark and chiseled, she was thin and pale and had super long blonde hair that she liked to whip around when they were being reckless in parking lots, against palm trees and in her luxury box at staples.

the romance ended when he moved to italy to turn pro.

she moped and wrote and learned how to paint and take photographs.

some of her drawings you can now see on her blog, which, by the way is one of my favorites.

definitely in my top 5.

of all time.

i still dont really know what she looks like or if shes even a she, but i think she is.

her travel writing is some of the best ive ever read.

shes a star no matter what she does.

we're all so very lucky to read what she writes.

please join me in wishing fragrant a happy birthday + my interview with her last year

   Sunday, November 30, 2003  
theres very little that i want for Christmas. i would like it to come and go quickly, and id like my neighbors dog to shut the fuck up.

but as for gifts, im good. my tivo records everything i need. me and solomon just upgraded my computer. my bike needs to be fixed, but i suppose that can wait.

my stereo could be better, i could have a flat panel monitor, everyone who reads this could buy blook II and make me feel like a stud.

i guess i could use some new clothes but the ladies dont even notice clothes when you have the right attitude.

my mom offered to get me a stacking washer + dryer a few years back, that thing could come in handy nowadays.

maybe a new space heater wouldnt suck. mines about 10 years old.

i still havent gotten madden.

but i dont need anything.

i wouldnt mind a girl who understood me. a borderline nympho, exhibitionist tendencies. a life wish. addicted to lingerie and saying ok.

but i havent found that category on ebay.

i did find some new Christmas Story toys. infact, the kid who got his tongue stuck to the flag pole (pictured) will even autograph the re-released DVD, apparently that film is 20 yrs old this year.

anyways, they have four action figures you can get.

the best one is you can get the kid, flick. he comes with the flag pole so you can recreate that magic movie moment as often as you want.

you can get the leg lamp if you want. authorized.

and of course, there is the lunch box. autographed.

ebay has the christmas ornaments for you, the bobbleheads, boxers, as they should.

but what home is complete without the leg lamp light set?

and what laser disc collection is worth it's salt without this twelve inch bad boy?

i just want to know why no one on ebay is selling this chestnut, starring the flag pole kid.

planet sara + makeout city+ leahs first audblog post
my hundred monkeys broke out of their room last night while i was passed out and they went straight for the garage and cracked open the soda fridge.

i caught them this morning trying to defrost some rib roast.

they flung feces at me, but i had some of my own and im a better shot.


corralled most of them before kickoff this morning but i think theres one around here hiding cuz i can smell cigarette smoke.

during their rampage they knocked over the tommy chong bong and got bongwater all over my computer and now my box needs its button pushed and held before it will turn on.

and no, im not talking about clipper girls cousin.

so i tried to burn my porn real quick off my hard drive just incase this thing has a short thats dying to pop and fritz out this whole mo fo and the computer shut off about 5 minutes into the burn, so this might be my last dispatch till tomorrow.

this all might be karmic payback for not picking up the phone when the 90 year old landlady called.

it was her on tuesday who the firetrucks and ambulance was for.

on thanksgiving day she called me while i had a fork full of hot steamy soul food and she wouldnt tell me why but insisted that i come over.

i did.

she said her backdoor was open and unlocked.


got over there and she had me adjust her pillows.

she had locked herself inside her room. instead of a bedroom door she had a screen door. it was ripped by the handle so she could lock it from her side but if someone needed to come in they could slip their hand through the rip in the screen.

she really isnt that crazy.

she told me she was making a will, what did i want.

i told her i wanted some of her mothers original paintings.

she said, which ones. i said the ones youve been looking at all these years, and i pointed to the ones behind me.

there was a totally uneaten can of wet cat food on top of a table. it had been mushed at a little, and its consistency was sagging so at a quick glance it looked like a heap of shit on a plate. but it was just cat food.

her cat cowered beneath the table.

the place smelled of piss and she told me that she couldnt walk any more, that it was right where her left front pocket would be if she wasnt wearing a housecoat.

she said she couldnt walk anymore and showed me a little trash can where she said she would probably use

she said her new girl was black and good but wouldnt be around until monday

she said her doctor was out of town until monday and he had left the number to the doctor who was going to cover for him, but she didnt remember his name.

she asked if i was going to be in town this weekend.

i lied and said no.

just then the phone rang. it was her best friend in illinois. she had told me about him before. she said hi cliff to him and told him to call her later and he slowly said that he would.

i looked around. i liked her place.

she told me to go look in the living room for anything else that i would want.

she had old records, great old books. i wanted everything.

i returned and she told me to make sure i had closed the screen door in the living room.

i told her all i wanted was this old book of mark twain stories.

she said, is that it? that i had been so nice to her.

i hadnt been so nice.

she bought me a chocolate tort once.

she had me write down the numbers of people like this animal rescue guy who she wanted all the left over stuff to go to.

she wanted him to have most of her money cuz she loves animals.

good thinking, i told her.

she called a few hours later. i didnt answer. she knows a lot of people.

she also knows 9-1-1.

she said her biggest fear was what would happen to her cat.

when she called 9-1-1 on tuesday they told her that they would have to take her to the hospital. she said what about my cat, they said who cares about your cat.

so she didnt go to the hospital.

next day she realized that the animal rescue guy would take care of her cat.

i know if i promised her that i would take care of the cat she would give me everything that she has, records, books, new tv, 100 year old original american art that really is good

cases of ensure.

but i dont like cats.

even mellow ones who pretty much just hang out.

i barely like monkeys.

verbungle + dc + the time for pants