nothing in here is true

  1. Saturday, September 21, 2002

    hi. im about to fly away to a sandy oasis. 

    i finally put up a new interview. this is one of a canadian girl. she was pretty cool. maybe we will chat again.

    im watching the angels make a spectacular comeback.

    chris is coming to pick me up and take me away.

    my mom is now saying that i cannot use any computers on the road.

    lefty tony seems to think that he can update this while im gone, but im not so sure. so if this is all you see then so be it.

    the skinny girl might want your attention. shes doing better. so that makes me happy.

    thanks to all the people who stoked me by flowing the bus blog last month. thanks to my brother in law for the first class upgrades.

    no thanks to best buy who didnt fix my camera on time.

    i guess i’ll just have to write long hand and read trashy novels and relax and drink and sleep and eat.

    i will come back, but dont call it a comeback.



  2. hollywood is a town just like yours 

    im sure theres a kid in your town who likes to try to be weird, and might be in a pretty great band and is doesnt suck at art and has some hot girlfriends. thats not all that suprising.

    our freaky boy is marilyn manson who lives on the same block as karisa in hollywood. his band is pretty damn great, his girlfriend is a nude model, and his new art show titled “The Golden Age of Grotesque” went on display yesterday at the Los Angeles Contemporary Exhibitions, 6522 Hollywood Boulevard, admission is free.

    they recommend a donation of three dollars, but i recommend they up it to $6.66. call it art!

    marilyn manson is one of my favorite people in the world.

    some people say that he’s just a poseur, that it’s all a big act. when i saw him he elevated from below the stage tied to a flaming upside down crucifix and he later ripped pages out of the bible and threw them to the crowd.

    kidding or not, the boy’s going to hell and he’s not doing it quietly.

    if i make it to heaven, i would like to be on the st. peter’s advisory committe, the board that helps influence the grace of God.

    i would argue in favor of marilyn manson’s ascension to heaven. i would argue that of that crowd of 18,000 at the forum that night, he would be in the small minority who had even held a bible that month. and by challenging the symbols of Christianity, he is helping to validate it as something, indeed, powerful and interesting. worthy of attention.

    marilyn manson sleeps with some of the hottest women in the wold and he’s singing about jesus? doesnt the bible teach against the distractions of the flesh?

    isnt that what he’s symbolizing when he slashes at his stomach and chest, all iggy-like?

    perhaps marilyn manson was simply the embodiement of the devil’s advocate.

    or you know what, angels, maybe he was just a goth kid who had a little style. he was given some money to really go for it, and a band who could seriously rock.

    even when he twisted his ankle that night at the forum due to his high heels, and the show was prematurely canceled, and a riot nearly broke out, marilyn manson has never disappointed me.

    the 25 minutes he did onstage was theatric, heavy, agressive, and slick. he kicked monster magnet’s ass, which was tough because monster magnet totally kicked ass. and he beat hole’s ass, which also was tough because courtney turned it up a notch since it was LA and she wanted to show off for her friends.

    but manson lives in LA too and rocked the house. and when the plug was pulled to quick the kids were pumped up for they had been waiting for something like that for a while. and to be honest it was one of the first times where i ever felt why they say, “keep the audience wanting more.” cuz it was pretty nice wanting more. the imagination went wild. i put on those records again and i saw more in them. it was great.

    next time manson plays where you live, i hope he twists his ankle for you too.

    Los Angeles Contemporary Exhibitions is located at 6522 Hollywood Boulevard, east of Highland and west of Cahuenga. The cross street is Wilcox. Parking is available for $4.50 in the lot behind the building, accessible from Wilcox. There is also ample metered street parking available. They are near the 101 freeway and the Metro Red Line�s Hollywood/Vine station. The galleries are wheelchair accessible. Admission to the gallery is free with a recommended donation of $3.00 ($2.00 students, members free). Gallery hours are Wednesdays through Saturdays 12:00-6:00 p.m. (323) 957-1777

  3. Friday, September 20, 2002

    the survivor premiere was on last night 

    tony loves “survivor”. i dont think he’s missed one episode. ashley was sitting on his lap being cool. the phone was ringing off the hook and i was rocking in the lazy boy as we all watched the first episode like a little family.

    if you didnt see it, the people got to pick two teams. a lady who said she was 53 and a man who was 55 picked teams out of the other 14 or 16 “tribespeople”. i dont remember how many there were.

    the lady picked what seemed to be nice people. the man picked what ended up being pretty, fratboy and sorority girl “athletic” people. so you had the beautiful people against the regular people.

    i wont tell you who got kicked off because they’re gonna show a special “encore presentation” tomorrow night.

    but i think it was a brilliant move for cbs to have them pick themselves because at first i thought i was gonna root for the hot babes, but it turned out that i ended up rooting for the regular, non-fratboy team.

    ashley watched them try to scale a cliff in search for water and she said, “at this point they would have voted to kick me off.”

    shes not the survivor-type, in fact at 1:30am they woke me up as i slept in the guest wing, and asked me if i wanted to make a mcdonalds run.

    i like survivor. ive learned a lot about life through survivor. sometimes when i come home and look through my cupboards and think, “shit, i dont have anything to eat,” i think about survivor and think, “hell, those people could live off of what i have in here for a week,” and then i put something good together.

    of the new survivors, ashley thought the used-car salesman was a cheeseball. she thought the tommy lee skateboarding bartender was an idiot, and thought the preacher was a dumbass.

    i liked the big black guy the most.i hope he wins.

    well i hope i have entertained you today. and tomorrow we’ll see what happens.

    happy friday, america,

    Lefty Tony

  4. in honor of America’s #1 movie 

    tony went to a real life black barbershop last night in the hood.

    everyone was black except the half black guy who was trying to be super black who had a huge tattoo on his chest a real black guy in chains raising his hands to the sky (not pictured).

    tony sat down, the guy picked out his ‘fro and said, “so what are we doing, brotha?”

    tony said cut half of it off.

    dont ever tell a barber at a barbershop to do anything other than “trim” a ‘fro or they’ll shave it all off.

    the remains of tony’s ‘fro is about a quarter inch high, all the way around. he looks like sammy davis jr. during his non-afro days.

    i think he looks good. ashley thinks he looks good. she came over last night. i got lost for a while.

    funny thing happened at the babershop.

    the barbers were playing some neojazz funk stuff. you could tap your feet to it, but i didnt know the lyrics. neither did tony.

    then the cd stopped and one of the barbers put in a mix tape of old school jams. these are all young barbers in their 20s. me and tony fit right in.

    they start talking about the songs as theyre singing along.

    tony’s barber asked him, “whoo… you like DeBarge?”

    tony said, “not particuliarilly.”

    barber says, “who do you like then?”

    he said, “rock.”

    barber said, “you mean like Poison.”

    tony just laughed.

    i went to get a slice from across the street.

    when i came back they were all singing “shook me all night long” acapella.

    someone had their dog at the barber shop. the dog tried to sing with the guys. all he did was howl till someone slapped him in the back.

    it didnt hurt. he was a big dog.

    he looked at the guy. licked his chops. then layed down on the floor like a good dog.

    the charge was $20 to get a ‘fro cut. tony gave the guy $30, then we hopped in the ride and flew home.

  5. gamboa had it coming. 

    i cant get into particulars here, but trust me when i tell you that it was no accident that of all the players on the field, the umpire, the fans, there was a reason that my brother and his cousin took off their shirts, hopped the fence, and tore down the right field line to the first base coaches box at him, obviously risking arrest, or at the least, ejection from the fine stadium on west thirty fifth.

    no one is so innocent.

    perhaps he was involved in some hijinks behind the scenes that led to last night’s public thrashing.

    maybe he was just a victim.

    my partner lenny doesnt believe that any of us are victims. that we are totally responsible for the things in our lives that cross our paths. i think lennys been smoking too much of the wacky tobbacky. what about train wrecks, i ask him.

    the creator put all the people whose times were up and loaded them on a train, he says.

    what about the young ones, i ask.

    sometimes young ones have to go, he says.

    what about the babies, i ask. i hate lenny.

    sometimes the babies are just undercover angels, he says. and i dont hate him so much, any more.

    so i dont know why gamboa got his last night. but he did. i dont think he got it all that bad, cuz the whole royal team came out to help him, and the team doctor looked him over right afterwards. nomal people dont ever have anyone help them, then they gotta wait two hours in the emergency room waiting room to see some kid doctor who doesnt know shit anyhow, and then you gotta pay a $50 copay.

    gamboa didnt have to pay any copay.

    he got off easy.

    Lefty Tony says gamboa got off easy. and i’d say it again.

  6. hi, my name is Lefty Tony. 

    they call me Lefty Tony because my family left me when i was a child. the entire truth is that the doctors the nurses, everyone, not just my family left me when i was born. the doctor pulled me out, horrified behind his mask, showed me to a nurse who fainted, showed me to another nurse who peed herself and showed me to my parents who cried. and then ditched me.

    burgalars who robbed the abandonded hospital found me and adopted me into a life of crime. eventually i went to jail, and after my ten year rehabilitation i was recruited into the xbi by someone very dear to your hearts.

    as he prepares to depart, on his much deserved vacation, he has entrusted me with his blog today, and the keys to his bachelor pad, flying car, and home computer.

    in return, i will housesit for him, occasionally update his blog with classic posts from the past, and attempt to entertain you with, in some cases, new pictures and tighter editing.

    speaking of pictures, today’s posts will include photos of my little brother freddy, who got himself nationwide press with our cousin manny as they beat the shit out of kansas city royal first base coach Tom Gamboa last night in the ninth inning at comisky.

    south side!

    i love that kid, i swear. even though he’s my brother he calls me uncle lefty because he doesnt want to believe that hes related to me. knucklehead.

    strangers think that i’m called Lefty due to my prostetic arm.

    i must admit, i would probably think that too.

    but i love my half arm. it’s what makes me different. in many ways it’s my personality. and if it wasnt for a great idea by tony, and his insight, i would have never thought that i stood a chance to get in the xbi.

    but when he asked me if i was willing to put a gigantic screw at the end of my elbow, and attach deadly weapons or useful tools to the end of it, i saw what he saw, unlimited potential.

    so needless to say, i’d do anything for him.

    remind me to tell you about the time he made this two foot vibrator, screwed it on me, took me to a strip club.

    the ladies were speechless.

    today’s entries are in honor of my little brother freddy and our cousin manny.

    you two did good.

  7. Thursday, September 19, 2002

    am i the only one thinking that naomi campbell looks amazing? 

    theres a church next door that has a huge sign that says “come in now,” and i think if they had naomi cambell in the clergy, maybe we’d all sign up.

    has she aged a day?

    incredible tummy, beautiful legs, attitude in her strut: why isnt naomi campbell on the cover of every health and fitness magazine in production?

    im thinking she’s an alien.

    i heard rumors that she has a pretty bad attitude, and has often times been called a bitch.

    you know what? fine.

    i want my supermodels to be spoiled bitches.

    jenny mccarthy might have had the hottest and cutest playboy layout of all time. but as soon as she started putting her finger up her nose and trying to act like one of the boys, it lost everything for me.

    if naomi was my girl, i’d let her pout. why not? any time she just wanted to walk around the house complaining about this one or that one, throwing dishes, taking a golf club to televisions, spitting, i would just go into the game room and play my xbox on the 42″ plasma screen.

    let it out, naomi.

    and if, for whatever reason, she wanted to start drifting her anger in my direction, i’d say, whatever baby, cuz as hot as you are, my mother is still the most beautiful woman in the world.

    which is true.

    and today is her birthday.

    happy birthday, mom.

  8. Death Certificate 

    Priority Records

    “No Vaseline”

    Got damn, I’m glad ya’ll set it off.

    Used to be hard, now you’re just wet and soft.

    First you was down with the AK,

    and now I see you on a video with Michel’le?

    Lookin’ like straight bozos.

    I saw it comin’, that’s why I went solo.

    And kept on stompin’,

    when ya’ll mothafuckers moved straight outta Compton.

    Livin’ with the whites, one big house,

    and not another nigga in site.

    I started off with too much cargo,

    dropped four niggas now I’m makin’ all the dough.

    White man just rulin’.

    The Niggas With Attitudes — who ya foolin’?

    Ya’ll niggas just phony,

    I put that on my mama and my dead homeys.

    Yella Boy’s on your team, so you’re losin’;

    Ay yo Dre, stick to producin’.

    Callin’ me Arnold, but you Been-a-dick;

    Eazy E saw your ass and went in it quick.

    You got jealous when I got my own company,

    but I’m a man, and ain’t nobody helpin’ me.

    Tryin’ to sound like Amerikkka’s Most,

    you could yell all day but you don’t come close.

    Cuz you know I’m the one that flowed,

    ya done run 100 miles, but you still got one to go.

    With the L-E-N-C-H M-O-B, and ya’ll disgrace the C-P-T.

    Cuz you’re gettin’ fucked out your green by a white boy,

    with no vaseline…

    [Refrain] (L.L. sample: “Now you’re gettin’ done without vaseline…”) 3x

    (Biz Markie sample: “Damn, it feels good to see people…on it”)

    The bigger the cap, the bigger the peelin’,

    who gives a fuck about a punk-ass villain?

    You’re gettin’ fucked real quick,

    and Eazy’s dick, is smellin’ like MC Ren’s shit.

    Tried to tell you a year ago,

    but Willie D told me to let a hoe be a hoe, so

    I couldn’t stop you from gettin’ ganked,

    now let’s play big-bank-take-little-bank.

    Tried to dis Ice Cube, it wasn’t worth it

    cuz the broomstick fit your ass so perfect.

    Cut my hair and I’ll cut them balls,

    cuz I heard you’re, like, givin’ up the drawers.

    Gang-banged by your manager, fella,

    gettin’ money out your ass, like a mothafuckin’ Ready Teller.

    Givin’ up the dollar bills,

    now they got the Villain with a purse and high-heels.

    So don’t believe what Ren say,

    cuz he’s goin’ out like Kunte Kinte,

    but I got a whip for ya Toby;

    used to be my homey, now you act like you don’t know me.

    It’s a case of divide-and-conquer,

    cuz you let a Jew break up my crew.

    House nigga gotta run and hide,

    yellin’ Compton, but you moved to Riverside.

    So don’t front, MC Ren, cuz I remember when you drove a B-210.

    Broke as a mothafuckin’ joke.

    Let you on the scene to back up the FirstTeam.

    It ain’t my fault, one nigga got smart,

    and they rippin’ your asshole apart.

    By takin’ your green, oh yeah,

    the Villain does get fucked with no vaseline.

    [Refrain scratched]

    I never have dinner with the President.

    I never have dinner with the President.

    I never have dinner with the President.

    And when I see your ass again, I’ll be hesitant.

    Now I think you a snitch,

    throw a house nigga in a ditch.

    Half-pint bitch, fuckin’ your homeboys.

    You little maggot; Eazy E turned faggot.

    With your manager, fella,

    fuckin’ MC Ren, Dr. Dre, and Yella.

    But if they were smart as me,

    Eazy E would be hangin’ from a tree.

    With no vaseline, just a match and a little bit of gasoline.

    Light ’em up, burn ’em up, flame on…

    till that Jheri curl is gone.

    On a permanent vacation, off the Massa plantation.

    Heard you both got the same bank account,

    dumb nigga, what you thinkin’ bout?

    Get rid of that Devil real simple, put a bullet in his temple.

    Cuz you can’t be the Nigga 4 Life crew

    with a white Jew tellin’ you what to do.

    Pullin’ wools with your scams, now I gotta play the Silence of the Lambs.

    With a midget who’s a punk too,

    tryin’ to fuck me, but I’d rather fuck you.

    Eric Wright, punk, always into somethin’,

    gettin’ fucked at night.

    By Mista Shitpacker,

    bend over for the gotdamn cracker,

    no vaseline…

    Where are they now?

    Dr. Dre is currently reaping the benefits of co-writing, producing and directing the music and videos of multi-platinum artists Eminem and Snoop Doggy Dogg. He has a hugely successful solo recording career, and he is president of Aftermath Records.

    Ice Cube is currently starring in America’s #1 box office movie, “Barbershop,” and recently told late night talk show host Craig Kilborn that he hopes to join Aftermath shortly and have his next solo record to be produced by Dre.

    Eazy-E died several years ago from the AIDS virus.

  9. ashley gets jealous. 

    have i ever told you that? it’s true.

    i tell her that she has no reason to be that way, that none of the girls in LA really want me and she says, “that’s not what Lenny Kravitz says.”

    i tell her that Lenny wears women’s clothes and is bald as a bat and wears a wig.

    she says “BLIND as a bat, poopyhead.”

    i say, lenny isn’t blind.

    then she sighs. she sighs a lot. when she sighs i say, “what was that?” and she gives me a second sigh. it’s cute.

    almost every night before i go to sleep ashley calls me. lately she has been trying to start fights with me. i hate fights. last night she caught me after our xbi softball game. i was watering the grass out by the duck pond. the automatic sprinklers aren’t working. i think our gardener is an alcoholic. anyhow, ashley was saying how she feels unloved by me and i said, i put a huge picture of you on my blog. she said, so, you didn’t write about me. i said i did! i said you were perfect. she said, you didn’t say that i inspire you. i said, aaaaah of course you inspire me.

    it was hard to explain. so i stuck to the fact that i put her picture up. it was really all that i had going for me.

    how many blogs put your picture up yesterday? i asked her.

    nobody i know has a blog other than you. she said. when she enunciated “blog” she made it sound like a stupid thing. like, “you’d never guess what Juanita got for her sweet 16th birthday gift: a frog!”

    i undressed, turned off the christmas lights and climbed into bed. we were still on the phone

    i told her that i found a pair of her red panties.

    “i don’t have any red panties,” she said.

    i could have sworn they were red. but you know my memory.

    she became very angry at the idea that some other panties might be left behind that weren’t hers.

    she said, “describe them.”

    i said, “im in bed.”

    she said, “DESCRIBE THEM!”

    i said, they smell like you.

    she said, don’t be gross.

    i said, they’re a thong, they seem new.

    she said, “get out of bed right now and tell me what the label says.”

    i got out of bed right then and found the panties and said, “victoria secret.”

    she said, “those aren’t red those are pink!”

    my christmas lights had tricked me yet again.

    she said, “i love those! that sucks that i left them behind.”

    i said, “don’t worry, they’re safe in this ziplock baggy.”

    she said, “i told you not to be gross.”

    i said, “i could make $100 off these panties. you’re famous.”

    she said, “you’re more famous than me.”

    i said, “a famous girl’s teen panties found on the famous guy’s floor. that could get us $100.”

    she said, “im hanging up if you don’t stop being so sick.”

    i said, “im not that famous. probably only $75.”

    she said, “please don’t sell my panties.”

    i said, “i wont sell them for less than $125. don’t worry.

    and she said, if you sell those i will never talk to you again.

    i said, promises promises daisy princess. and i schemed myself to sleep.

  10. hi, tony pierce 

    hi lenny kravitz, nice wig.

    yeah. yeah. hey tony, mind if i take over your blog when you go on vacation?

    only if you only talk about what happens backstage at your concerts.

    oh, man, all i do is drink juice, talk to the entertainment reporters, and do yoga.

    it’s who youre doing the yoga with, lenny, that im sure readers of my blog would be interested in learning about.

    ive been housesitting in your neighborhood, tony pierce. every day i see a different girl show up.

    those are my cousins. they like to cook. if they make a big meal, they’ll put some in tupperware and bring it over.

    those are some mighty close hugs youre giving your cousins.

    im very grateful for their food.

    most of these girls are white, tony.

    nah, just light skinned. you know how it is.

    one of the girls was chinese.

    that was saki, she’s japanese.

    you have a japanese cousin?

    no, that was a chick i met at the Nacional.

    so you are dating her!

    actually she brought over some tempura.

    but you kissed her, i saw it!

    no no. she just had a little spinach in her teeth that i was helping her remove. and my hands were full. of tupperware.

    anyway, what about the blog? can i do it? please?

    only if you talk about lisa bonet.

    you’re a gentleman, like me. we dont kiss and tell.

    good point, lenny. whats up with you selling all the stuff in your new orleans house?

    ironically, me and lisa used to live there right before the “let love rule” album was recorded. i never felt right back there after we split. i didnt do my taxes so well last year, so i figured i’d just sell everything in the place.

    even the suit of armor?!

    it’s not as kinky as i was hoping it would be.

    im gonna steal from the obvious blog right now.


    lenny, in five words, describe what its like to be a handsome lead guitar singer songwriter frontman

    redhead mondays, brunettes tuesdays; twins

    im not sure i understand, lenny, im not sure im worthy to understand.

    its not a wig, by the way.

    then screw you, you cant borrow my blog.


    cuz only i can lie here.