busblog

nothing in here is true

  1. Friday, May 31, 2002

    hi tony 

    hi anna, whats up?

    nothing, im surprised youre even talking to me.

    why wouldnt i talk to you?

    good question, why havent you been talking to me?

    well, you dont call, and i know youre busy with stuff like figuring out what outfit to wear.

    what?

    sorry about the French Open.

    yeah, well, c’est la vie.

    la vie, so what are you up to?

    um, you mean other than totally fuming that you’ve been ignoring me?

    ok, im gonna go if youre going to be like this.

    a friend of mine saw you at the baja fresh this afternoon.

    so? i was scouting it out for Wendy’s who wants to buy them all.

    yeah, right, you were with a girl.

    so what, commrade, this is a free country.

    you were holding her HAND!

    it’s over between her and me, anna, if you read my blog once in a while you’d have known that.

    ??? what??? you wrote this morning one thing, then the other minute my friend emails me and says youre still holding her hand at lunch!

    you know i stay friends with everyone i meet.

    uh-huh. close friends, i can see.

    im still friends with you, arent i?

    um, not really. no.

    ok, i really have to go, anna. this has been real.

    you know what, fine! and you know what else?

    you cant stop thinking about me?

    uh, no.

    you cant stop dreaming about me? my windsong stays on your mind?

    try again.

    whenever you see a tom hanks movie you get a little sad and miss me and feel like calling me up, but you stop yourself cuz youre just a stubborn little girl, deep down?

    why are you so mean?

    just playing, hottie.

    well im not. i hope the lakers lose.

    now who’s being mean?

    well now, finally, you know how it feels.

    what? to be on your own? like a complete unknown.

    oh, go f yourself.

    you have a good weekend too, baby.

  2. you can tell a lot about someone by their shoes 

    and sk smith breaks it down wonderfully.

    sk and dh are about to move away from the city by the bay and i will miss reading the daily reports direct from the mission.

    they’re soon headed to texas where they will gentrify austin as nicely as they did to 18th street.

    whenever i see an “S” parking permit sticker on the bumper of an SUV i sigh, and then realize why i moved, and then i praise jah.

    anyway read her titles of the shoes and then name this one, cuz i cant think of a damn thing.

  3. its sorta too bad 

    that me and cuban girl have to stop seeing each other, cuz she took me to the Kodak Theater last night to see Elvis Costello and he fucking rocked.

    Maybe he’s having some sort of mid life crisis but it’s nice. I’ve seen the King of America about 7-8 times and never has he played with such vigor and, i dont know, spirit.

    ornery as ever, costello played a generous portion of his 20th album, the newly released “when i was cruel.”

    i was a bit perturbed by the song selection, but elvis made up for it with three songs from ’87’s “blood and chocolate” (“uncomplicated”, “hope you’re happy now”, and the torch classic “i want you” which ended the three-encore night).

    new bassist Davey Faragher rocked out on the right hand side, steve nieve tickled the ivories, and pete thomas accompanied costello at the Kodak, hollywood’s new home for the academy awards.

    we sat in the front row of the upper mezzanine.

    ran into birthday boy George Wright, who not only scored a new gig yesterday, but doesnt look a day over 25. fucker.

    quick tip: the lines for the booze are long. but each bar has a line in the back that no one uses. use it.

    after the show, cuban girl and i went across the street to the hollywood blvd mcdonalds and induldged in a mcrib and a shake and watched a family of tourists from africa complain that the Hi-C was “expired.” the mcdonalds lady was trying to explain that she was going to check the CO2, but i wanted to tell the tourists that McDonalds may be a luxury in ghana but in hollywood at 11:30pm it’s just something to toss down your gullet.

    instead we just grabbed a seat with a good view of the outrage and ate our fries and laughed and laughed.

    saw a trio of old people drinking coffee. one old man looked like he just robbed a raver store. he had three-quarter baby blue pants, a white longsleeve, lots of necklaces and a knit cap. he looked a hundred times cooler than me. which, if you know me, isnt all that hard.

    costello played no cover tunes but made sure to insult the people in the orchestra seats to the delight of those of us in the cheap seats.

  4. Thursday, May 30, 2002

    what did you do on Sunday? 

    Eminem sold close to 300,000 units. feel like a slacker now?

    RIAA, still hate file-swapping? you shouldnt, fucking babies.

    here’s two separate reasons which explain why im without a sweetheart.

    and finally in today’s briefs, the FBI can now monitor web sites. so long privacy and free speech, hello G-men!

    actually some of my most voracious readers are from the government.

    hi.

    and boy have they been “monitoring” this anna coverage.

  5. in case you missed it, 

    the miss universe pageant was held last night, and i covered it here.

    now let’s read a letter. by the way, thank you to all the nice people who have left or will leave nice notes in the comments section. your words mean a bunch to me, so muchas gracias!

    Dear Tony,

    What does it mean when something is described as “ticky-tack“? Is that some kind of athlete’s code for “tacky”?

    Signed,

    Puzzled

    Dear Puzzled,

    excellent question! for some reason i thought this was common terminology.

    i would say ticky-tack is typically used when talking about a foul in basketball or a penalty in football when the athlete is being punished for a physical act that isnt really as violent as the foul might suggest.

    in the playoffs, especially in a close game near the end of the game, it would be called “ticky-tack” if a player barely hit his opponent. if it is called early in the game the ref is sending a message to both teams that he doesnt want very physical play, but at the end of the game a wussy foul call would be called ticky-tack.

    there is generally a given cushion of physicality that each team assumes is okay even though it might technically be a foul — but in the super-fast nature of playoff basketball, of course one man is going to touch another man (which is technially a foul) but no one expects to be called on that.

    so when Shaq got a foul charged against him in the last minutes of the game for just swiping his big paw in the general vicinity of lil mike bibby, that would be ticky tack as compared to a man slapping another man’s elbow while the first man was shooting.

    since players can only have 6 fouls before they are fouled out of the game, in the playoffs, each foul should be obvious. glancing grazes should not be whistled.

    keep rocking!

  6. in a blatant act of defiance 

    the original miss universe from russia, anna kournikova, sported a yellow sleeveless adidas tennis outfit instead of the white top/blue shorts combo that i have been pleading with her to wear since she played so well in it early this spring.

    why she chose to take this risk at the all-important French Open in Paris yesterday is beyond me.

    stubbornness?

    pride?

    arrogance?

    ignorance?

    indeed it may have been rooted in cockiness, of all things, since Anna was pitted against wildcard seed Christina Wheeler of Australia who no one thought could make it out of the first round in the grand slam event.

    underestimating her competition in the biggest tournament she has played in since her scandelous nude penthouse lawsuit craziness would seem beyond our lovely anna since she hasnt won a tournament, ever.

    but the drought continues as Miss Kournikova lost handilly 6-4, 6-3 to the aussie and to the utter disappointment of her loyal and ever-so patient fans.

    and even though im pissed that she didnt win or listen to my advice, i must admit that she looked cute as hell in that yellow.

    especially since it matched her shoes!

  7. today is the national spelling bee competition 

    when i was a kid i lost on “thorough”.

    more symbolic than you think.

    on one hand i look at these kids and im sorry for them cuz they look like theyre going through so much pain, but then on the other hand you look at these kids and they’re not jocks, theyre not politicians, theyre not rockers, this is their one moment of glory, and when was the last time you were on ESPN?

    semi-new hot chick came over to my house last night.

    shes been doing that a lot lately.

    tonight we’re going to go to see Elvis Costello at the new Kodak Theatre at Hollywood & Highland – where they had the Academy Awards this year.

    then we’re not gonna fool around any more.

    two weeks, and just like that, over.

    if i was in control of any of this, you’d all call me names like womanizer, etc., words that i doubt they’ll use during today’s Bee.

    instead, since im pretty much the victim of all of this, the correct spelling would be l-o-s-e-r.

    the only difference between me and these 12 year olds is i dont have on khaki’s, a polo shirt, or the brainpower to spell.

    but tomorrow night, just like them, i will go to sleep alone.

    serotinal

    can you use serotinal in a sentence please?

    “enjoy the happy smiles given by the hotties here at the end of the spring, dumbass, because youre about to hit the serotinal flipside.”

    s-e-r-o-t-i-n-a-l.

    ding.

  8. Wednesday, May 29, 2002

    the thing i hate the most 

    in the world is not racism, sexism, or agism.

    it’s not an ism.

    it’s not AIDS, getting stung by a bee, the concept of never finding a soul mate, or never having children, or dying an early and unproductive life.

    the thing i hate most of all is not the idea of the Cubs never winning a World Series during my lifetime, or my dear mother marrying a cop, world hunger, or the Catholic church.

    i hate poverty, rudeness, road rage, ignorance, and The Beatles a lot, but none of those things are the wost things i could imagine.

    i hate terrorism, and suffering and the idea of another holicaust, slavery, and the constant fear that my unsaved soul will spend eternity in the unforgiving depths of a firey and twisted hell.

    the thing i hate most of all is that theres not one elected offical with the balls to take on Ticketmaster.

    i am somewhat pleased, however, that Dave Marsh wrote about It today.

  9. things i like: 

    the Sacramento Bee.

    things i really like: the Sacramento Bee online.

    No one who has paid close attention to the Kings/Lakers series is really arguing about the lousy officiating, and if you really want to get an unbiased view of how jacked the Lakers were out of a win, go no further than today’s column from J. Freedom du Lac, the Bee Pop Culture Writer.

    He pretty much lays it down so fairly that you’d think he grew up in So Cal or something.

    Or that maybe he’s trying to get a promotion to So Cal.

    More Things I like: Getting invited to a lunch-time rendevous with a marketing gal in a nearby park.

    More Things I Really like: Getting invited to a lunch/park/dealio on an unseasonably hot afternoon next to the LaBrea tar pits.

    More Things I like Super Alot: good email planning

    me: where in the park do you wanna meet?

    her: How about by the big pit of tar?

    me: ok.

    her: Ok, maybe by the picnic tables in front of the museum.

    More Things I really Dont Like: Her being 20 minutes late even though we made plans 15 minutes before said rendevous and I only have a 30 minute lunch break.

    More Things I Like: Samaki Walker on Vlade’s absence of foul calls:

    “I’m not even going to get started on that,” he said. “It’s just ticky-tack. You mean to tell me Vlade Divac guards Shaq, and he only has two fouls after three quarters?”

    More Things I like Super Alot: The fact that We have Kobe and Shaq and they don’t.

    More Things I like A Whole Super Alot: Women who don’t hyphenate their names even when it’d be funny as hell.

  10. as you know, rabbit blog 

    is one of my favorite reads each day.

    true our furry friend doesnt always write to us via her blog everyday, but you know what that famous man once said, “great blog, crap job; great site, shit life.”

    and she may try to downplay her superstar life of writing for Salon and Marie Claire and all the other famous journals under her various nom de plumes, but we know the real deal, when shes not pretending to be totally fascinated with various forms of psychotic behaviors, shes getting her extra thin cigarettes lit in the swankiest nightclubs of hollywood.

    but i do have a bit of a disagreement with her today, which is rare.

    Rabbit is funny as hell, in person and in pixels, but sometimes she loses the forrest for the guffaws. Yes, Ari Fleischer could look sexy in a pink bra and a catholic girl skirt and im sorry to put that image in your mind… but the purpose of dressing, ladies, is not only to impress the women of your circles who you feel compelled to constantly impress… why? Lord only knows. But it’s also to gain the attentions, ultimately, of the men who are dying to set ablaze your Camel Lights.

    Therefore catholic girl skirts and a peek-a-boo sassy pink bra and boots shouldnt not be so easilly discounted and forgotten.

    It’s Spring, ladies, nearly summer.

    If you’ve got it, flaunt it, cuz everyone knows we wont have it forever.

    Later you can put the pancake on your head and see if the fella really likes you for your mind.

    Much later.

    signed,

    the superhero named tony