a lot of people have understandedly emailed me

regarding all of the drama going on in the comments section below.

the post in question featured a picture of my drinking buddy karisa in her halloween costume with her work buddy liz, who i believe was also in her halloween costume (i have learned never to assume these sorts of things).

some guy named marc innocently asked in the comments section

“who’s the girl that’s not karisa: yum!”

to which i snidely replied sarcastically


that girl is the ugliest girl in hollywood.


then the mysterious G chimed in with

“I assume your response, (tony,) is an inside joke, cause I don’t get it. Marc said she’s good looking: ‘yum’.”

to which liz wrote back under the pseudonym of Ugly Girl

“Hi Tony,

Bite me.

I was going to write you something nice since I’ve heard so many great things about you…but you can blow it out your crusty rear.

Marc and G, thanks so much! “

which prompted my response last night before bedtime of

“dear ugly girl,

i was just being sarcastic.


everyone knows karisa’s the ugliest girl in hollywood.


luv, tony”

funny? ha ha? right. misunderstandment? no. this morning karisa sends me an email from overseas telling me that Liz is still pissed and i should write her and tell her that i was seriously kidding, which i was.

so here, concerned readers, is what i wrote the luscious liz. watch your hero grovel.

to: liz@clickmodeling.com

from: dumbass@tonypierce.com

subject: a thousand pardons


the rumors of my genius are highly exaggerated.

people say im such a good writer but they’re all drunkards. they say im

funny, but what do they know.

surely i thought that you would never read my web page (why would you?)

and everyone would know that if i called an obviously gorgeous woman “the

ugliest girl in hollywood” either they would think that i was being

predictably sarcastic, or they’d believe the myth that every girl in la is

at least as beautiful as you.

karisa will tell you that in an average day i will tell hundreds of jokes

and dozens will be funny.

im sorry my little comment hit you the wrong way.

perhaps you will allow me to take you and karisa out for expensive drinks at

the cheesecake factory of your choice.

humbly yours.


hours passed and still no email from karisa’s co-worker. i felt super bad because i have heard great things about her and yet never had the opportunity to meet her. and you know how things are with girls, piss off their friends, and you piss them off too. so not only had i blown it with liz, but my friendship with karisa was teetering as well. yikes.

then, like dream, that tiny beige envelope appeared in the bottom right corner of my flat screen monitor.

it was liz. innocent liz. damaged by my buffoonery. would she accept my apology or would she lay into me like a trucker who had been cut off?


from: liz@clickmodeling.com

to: dumbshit@tonypierce.com

subject: Re: a thousand pardons

you are such a dork

without even meeting you, i know this.

i DO have a sense of humor(really, I do!!!) but when you’re scaring off

possible Liz “admirers”, it makes me screamin’ mad!

yes, let’s go and get some cutsie-pootsie drinks when KiKi comes back as

I have heard so much about you and always ask why you don’t come out also.

The ugliest but much humored girl in Hollyweird

so there you have it, cub fans. the drama has ended and you can all go in peace.

what have we learned from this?

sarcasm on strangers falls on deaf ears?

tony really is the hermit loser that he pretends not to be and should have had drinks with these fine lovelies and avoided all of this?

no, what i learned is karisa is telling all the hotties in la that im a dork.

damn you, mass girl, i will get my revenge and tell all your secrets.

p.s. thats not really liz’s email address therefore all the liz admirers should leave comments here.

p.p.s. admirers of tony can leave their comments here too.


today’s parker posey’s 32nd birthday

nd who doesn’t love parker posey?

what will you do today to celebrate?

ashley, the daisy princess, last night drove her friend anne up to hollywood to be extras in charlie’s angels two starring their idol, miss drew barrymore. the girls arrived at 4pm and spent most of the evening in the cold rain giddy with excitement despite clearly seeing in the call sheet that the former mrs. tom green wasn’t scheduled to appear.

no matter, they ran up to hot shot director McG bearing gifts for drew and McG told them how excited drew would be to get their handmade necklace and hallmark card, and despite captaining the multimillion dollar picture introduced himself and posed for pictures with the young girls who were blown away by his “sweetness”.

anne was celebrating her 18th birthday and still had a permasmile at midnight when i ordered a veggie pizza for the ladies who dried themselves by my fireplace.

half hour later they were back out in the rain, not to work, but to watch. i wanted to warn them that they’d catch a cold or they’d wake up all achy and drowsy in the morning but sometimes youth isn’t at all wasted on the young, sometimes it’s the fuel and when ashley crawled under my electric blanket at 4am with wet hair and cold skin i could hear the fire still crackling in the front room interspersed with snores.

shes asleep ashley told me and nibbled at me.

and i thought

then i thought

and then i thought

then she said what are you thinking about?

and i said im trying to think if thirty three books have been sold so far or thirty four?

she said don’t you want to be thinking of something else.

i said but it’s technically friday and that means that there are only three days left for the discounted rate.

she said are you fucking kidding me.

and she ripped open her corset colored with the twinkling christmas lights circling the bedroom

and not everything is wasted on the young and at four oh four that blonde girl’s ass wasn’t so cold any more.

utter wonder

Seems it never rains in southern California

Seems I’ve often heard that kind of talk before

It never rains in California,

but girl don’t they warn ya

It pours,

man, it pours

two inches of rain in los angeles is like thirty inches of snow in maui, everyone freaks out, no one knows what to do, so they do what they normally do, drive fast while talking on their cell phones crashing into each other and never accepting fault.

the rain started yesterday around rush hour. people here seem to think that the faster you drive in the rain the less it will affect the wax job on their lexus’s. some are right.

wrong was the blonde skaterboy on his wooden longboard who tried to make a left onto wilshire and wiped out landing on his ass, launching his coffee mug of oatmeal into the drizzle and his deck into the honking traffic.

wrong was the subterrainian metro that, only in la, could be thirty minutes behind schedule due to weather despite being completely dry, miles below the metropolis.

wrong was the choice of the glamor girl who chose skin tight suede, shivvering below her dilapidated umbrella old with age, and flapping from crappiness.

five dolares sang the spuds mckenzie umbrella hawker at wilshire and western admiring his roll of cash secured with damp rubberband as we lined up to board the bus whose floors were wet whose windows were foggy whose seats were wet whose passengers were wet whose driver told her boss she had to take a 1031.

use the mcdonalds on crescent heights he said on the radio staticky due to the weather.

what about the jack in the box on la brea she asked and added over.

whereever you can, baby, he answered back with an over and out.

it’s like theyve never seen this ever before yet it comes down every year.

rain in the city means snow in the slopes but everyone crashes before they get there. everyone.

sweet little jetta rear ends land rover who slowed down to a near stop as it delicately maneuvers over the inch high speed bumps in the office courtyard.

i arrive at work a half hour late grateful that the bossman had the foresight to trust fritz the weatherman and took a personal day when he heard there’d be rain.

secretary says, welcome to work when i punch the clock and remove my trench coat.

it was work just getting to work i tell her and she kisses my forehead and pats my sweet ass.

dirty fez