tony pierce.com + mary!
busblog at gmail dot com

nothing in here is true

 


   Tuesday, June 22, 2004  
a half year ago

Thursday, January 22, 2004

hi innernet

hi tony.

whatcha doin?

growing.

yeah.

what cha doing?

trying to think of something to write.

why dont you tell us how great it is to live in hollywood california

nah

youre a nice young single man. healthy. smart. funny. rich. brave. handsome. hung. im sure you have some stories to tell.

god i love you Internet.

come on, tell us how warm it is there today!

i did wear a flannel. but yeah, i guess it was warm.

see! now tell us about something fun that happened there today. in hollywood. land of celebrities and rock stars.

hmmm.

surely something fantastically glamorous happened that you would want to share with the blogosphere. come now.

stars.. hmm. i dont want to say nothing happened great. maybe it did. i have a terrible memory...

you're letting me down, bro.

i almost got hit by a jaguar this morning.

see, thats good! what year?

it was new. dealers plates.

oh... the ones that look like tauruses?

no no, this was from beverly hills jaguar, it was big and fancy.

Perfect tony Perfect!

yeah.

although, maybe you should have let him hit you.

it was a woman driving.

whatever, you woulda gotten rich!

dont they just pay for your broken legs or whatever?

pain and suffering, bro. pain and suffering!

shit.

i know!

shit.

i know

my fortune today said you will be rich and famous. fucker. pretty girl smiled at me. work was hard. lunch was fast. barely had any time even to take one fifteen minute break and i have this thing in my head that says that if i cant finish the work that somehow it was my fault. people have capacities too. dont we? you cant put a gallon and a half of milk into a gallon jug. and if you do you dont blame the jug.

sick thing is i love the fact that this job is so impossibly hard, so thankless, and so low paying.

i love it because the whole time my fro is as big as it can be, im wearing my corvids tshirt, im getting smiled at by the pretty girls, and my savings account just gets larger and larger, slowly, and the people who dont want me happy can only shrug while under their breath call me a fucking dumbass.

they watch me climb on the bus and i whisper who's the dumbass now and i show the driver my monthly pass.

and old death is whistling at me from down a super long dark hallway with his come hither finger saying youre only getting older when are you going to grow up sellout and be mine and the oriental rugged floor sprinkled with opened condom wrappers athletic socks and newspapers says was someone speaking i swear i coulda heard someone say something ridiculously ignorant

lets change the world says the lamp

on the maxims

next to the greasy

knocked over

bucket

of extra crispy kfc

chickens

sk smith + melting dolls + ultrablognetic


Previously on busblog...