triple-digits two days in a row, too bad no one told you to buy stock ten days ago. Keep reading Drudge and you’ll be as dull and broke and stupid as he is and you too can be a has-been internet pessimist bitch.
was walking down the street a good block ahead of me. When i got to the stairs the train was already there, which is death. But it waited for me almost and i got on right as the doors were closing. transfered at wilshire/vermont. got off at wilshire/western where the escalator is still not working and the Mitsubishi repairmen were drinking coffee, smoking cigarrettes and looking at the hotties. waited at the bus stop. one red bus came, then another right behind it. so i go to the one behind it, and TSK follows me and almost tries to cut infront of me. fuck that, i got on in front of her, i went all the way to the back where the bench seats are. she sat right across from me. i looked at her barefeet in her sandals. it was odd.
emailed me and asked that i dont do a tribute to her today, she asked me to post a poem instead, so i did. i love requests.
greg emailed me the other day and said that he liked my photoshoped and political cartoon images and he gave me a link to some other ones, which i promptly put in the hot topics section of my links page. my links page has gotten 4,196 unique visitors this month. i hope you guys are clicking the things on there cuz theyre good! thanks, greg!
and today is a good day for her cuz it looks like she is going to go back to being one of the richest women in texas as opposed to one of the poorest. She has lived such a facinating and bizarre life, and shes only one year younger than me!
Anyhow, looks like now she is probably going to get the $450 million after all, and it will be interesting to see how hollywood treats her now that shes not just another poor girl from texas with a thing for marilyn monroe.
plan on a tribute for her tomorrow on my main page.
woke up earlier, got up earlier. turned the corner, and there was Tall Skinny Girl walking on the other side of the street. got into the elevator and it was just she and i. i was feeling really good this morning, and i almost turned around and said hi! but nah. i just kept eating my cereal from my little box. got out of the elevator and went to the opposite side of the train ramp.
what’s weird is all the dates ive been on so far have been good. im sure me and TSG would have a good date, but i dont say a word to her. i even took the bus from wilshire and vermont instead of changing trains with her, just to avoid her more. im glad i did, cuz i saw every single escalator shut down at the wilshire/vermont station! it’s like they think that they have an excuse now because of the gas-incident last night. sorry, people, thats no excuse. there was no gas, flick back on the escalators, quit acting like a bunch of fucking asses.
oh wait, yes, tempted is the word.
today i hate the bus. today i want to get a car. today i want to flush out everything bad in my life. i want to flush everything that isnt perfect out of my life. i want to earn twice as much, i want to wear half as less. i want to grow my hair twice as big and dye it red or just bleach it. im not happy. i was late to work.
i hardly ever end up doing what we plan on doing.
a loyal reader wrote in to say that she would see Glitter with me. on our way to the mysterious movie theatre, after struggling through my worthless directions, she said, wanna just get lost in Glendale?
so we drank at a hotel bar, played video games, ate japanese, had pie, then suckered her over to my place where we tried to out-do each other in every way.
so fun i had to shut the drapes.
best part is, nothing that you’re probably thinking happened happened.
i say, i told you, im not gonna write about the fbi while we’re at war.
they say nonononono, your real job. i say, oh, the real one. ok. well, me and this girl i work with were talking about True Hollywood Stories. We edit the closed-captions so that the deaf, hearing-impared, and hotties working out in the gym can keep up with the daliances of the famous.
my co-worker said the other day, “you know you have a rough life when it’s only the year 2000 and your THS is only half-way done.”
I think i’ve topped her. I’m doing the newest edit of the 2-hour Anna Nicole Smith truehollywoodstory. We’re only into the tenth minute of this story and she has gotten married, divorced, had a kid, lived in a trailer, worked at a fried chicken place, started stripping, had two breast augmentations, gone to the hospital cuz of an infection due to one of them, and been arrested three times for DUI.
after informing my co-worker of all of this, she says, wow.
now arent you glad to hear the behind the scenes goings on?
mariah called me like she does every night these days before she goes to sleep. we talk about the old days and she keeps telling me that i would love her movie cuz it’s set in the ’80s and i say i’ll go i’ll go and she says do it for America! and then laughs. shes got a cute laugh.
i tease her that her voice is getting deeper and one day it will be as deep as kathleen turner’s and she likes my jokes and rewards them with silence but it’s cool, she keeps calling, doesnt she.
i say, mariah, dont think that it’s a failure if yours was the only new movie that came out this week and you didnt even get in the top ten of weekend grosses. she asked why isnt that a failure? i said, cuz money doesnt mean nothin or popularity. she said but j-lo… i said, j-lo, whatever. she said, yeah, whatever.
then she gave me a hard time for writing about ashley this weekend.
if i didnt bring up the fact that there’s always Plan B in situations like these: peace.
of course we need to find those responsible, and of course we need to bring them to justice. it is the means that i am typing about.
waving your dick in the eyes of a monster and demanding a bunch of shit that you know he’ll say “no” to is what daddy bush did to sadaam ten years ago and the day before the new bad guy allegedly masterminded the incidents last week, the old bad guy shot down some of our planes over iraq, so what has war done for us lately?
the president read a nice speech yesterday, pretty to the ears, but chock-full of holes, of course, frat boy.
i’ll get into more of this later, but in the meantime, let me say that if you’re going to buy flags at the corner and make God Bless America the latest catch-phrase, realize that God has blessed America plenty. and God would be far more interested in a peaceful resolution to matters such as these, because God is Love, not hate or revenge or terror. so do me a favor and just leave God out of it.
you too, Osama.
enjoy the telethon tonight.
and we saw Blink-182 – who were terrific, by the way – just three dumb skaters from San Diego who (for the exception of the drummer) aren’t very talented musically or other wise, but who write and sing happy little semi-punk songs.
And I don’t know who the fucked up people in the world are who don’t love America, and I’m not going to try to tell you What America Is To Me, but if someone saw me and chris the other night you might have gotten a good idea of what makes this country what it is. You had a white girl and a black boy in a honda eating mexican food in the parking lot of a rock show in long beach california where twenty minutes later, a dee jay from KROQ was about to lead the crowd of mostly-highschool kids into The Pledge of Allegiance.
I love America for lots of reasons, but I particularilly like it when, after the dee jay (the one above in the dress) fucked up The Pledge, they unmercilessly booed her literally off the stage.
I keep trying to tell you the kids are alright.
when you see me praising the now so-trim-it’s-sickly Rush Limbaugh, but the once-important syndicated windbag actually denounced the comments of Reverands Falwell and Robertson straight-up saying that they were wrong. And that deserves a link any damn day. Still, Rush, you are that close to being forgotten. Continue to fade into the ether. But before you do, you may want to change the cover of your “Limbaugh Letter” (left).
From my co-worker comes a link to a Spaces Invaders-type game called “Hunting For Bin Laden” where you get to be Dubya, Gen. Powell, or VP Cheeney with a shotgun blasting away as many turbin-donned Osama’s as you can.
Fun for about 45 seconds until you realise the creepy irony that the evil doers only get tougher to kill as the battles continue and eventually your guy with the shotgun gets nailed by a scud missle.
Good thing we don’t use shotguns to fight wars anymore, huh?