1. Wednesday, September 5, 2001

    Hank the angry dwarf is dead 

    and instead of sending letters of condolence, people send me pictures of their girlfriend’s boobs, dumbass song lyrics, arguements in favor of the ridiculously dull “Jeepers Creepers”, and insults about my loyalty and devotion to my favorite band, Tsar.

    But what takes the cake is when people try to knock this site for being self-centered and/or conceited. Um, it’s called tonypierce.com, genius. it is supposed to be about me. in reality, i’d say only 60% of what i write about is even about me or my real life. maybe less. i do that so that idiots like those who write to complain wont realize what miserable lives they have in comparison to my urban bliss.

    can i help it if i have the best friends in the world, live in a sweet pad, own a flying car, get taken to dinner by fashion models, and have a perfectly amazing wondertool?

    no, i can’t. and i do all of you nay-sayers a huge benefit by keeping most of that to myself and only letting you in on some of the finer portions of my generous bounty: the best being Tsar.

    That band is the epitome and amalgom of everything that I was fortunate enough to stumble across when I transfered into UC Isla Vista and if they had only signed to a label who knew how to launch new bands, you’d had heard their debut record thousands of times by now.

    But life isn’t fair.

    And every time I gaze at one of my many full-length mirrors and flex, I smile and say those very same words.