email exchange number two

from: birthday girl

to: me

subj: when was the first time you got high?

hey tony!!!

we luv you and we wanted to tell you!!!

hey when was the first time you smked pot???

me and my sister wanna know.

to: birthday girl

from: me

re: when was the first time you got high?

hi girls,

congrats turning 21.

ive never done anything illegal in my life and dont plan to.

sorry gals, straightedge!


from: birthday girl

to: me

re: re: when was the first time you got high?

ok, well, ive done lots of illegal things. but here are some of the more tame ones.

the first time i ever smoked pot.

my friend wendy and i were 17 and we went out with two of our ‘friends’- chris and muggsy.

chris was the rich boy in school whose father drove a porsche and the previously unseen cadillac alante. for some reason, chris drove a lame station wagon. even my car was cooler!

well the 4 of us decided to go the traintracks down by the river, otherwise known as ‘love rock’. all of the keg spots in houston had dumb names like that- love rock,

low rock, the field, the horseshoe, the cabin, y-camp. go figure. (the cabin, btw, is the place responsible for my first stiches ever!)

so we went to love rock. and they informed us they had pot.

now being that i hated my dad and previously did not smoke pot in protest of his habit, i usually would say no. but i was feeling weird and inspired by my recent research into sylvia plath’s descent into the bell jar, and i said ‘what the hell?’.

but we didn’t have anything to smoke out of.

thus comes my first experience of smoking pot…out of a bud light can. improvisation in its finest form. we used my hair clip to poke holes in the side, threw on some pot and lit it up.

they say you don’t get high your first time. considering i was most-like conceived, incubated and raised on pot fumes, i was high as a kite. as was wendy.

the first time i really got drunk-in the eighth grade- on cisco no less- i didn’t know how to act. so i thought i should just pretend to be passed out and let boys drag me around the grass. so with pot- it was the same thing. i didn’t know how to act- so i let chris kiss me. in the car. 20 minutes later i kissed muggsy.

and no, i didn’t kiss wendy.

but then it was over. and i wasn’t high anymore and i didn’t like either of the boys. so wendy and i made them take us home.

i still don’t like either of them. chris recently got into a fight at my brother’s bar and got his front teeth knocked out. he is suing the bar b/c he says they didn’t do anything to stop it. muggsy is a city councilor. i didn’t vote for him.

it was quite a memorable experience.

that’s my ‘virgin-pot’ story.

maybe i can de-virginize you one day


two hotter sisters

email exchange number one

from: superfamous girl

to: me

subj: what will you name your kids


ive always wondered, what will you name your kids?

and what are your goals for next year?

from: me

to: superfamous girl

subj: re: what will you name your kids

angus, merle, hank, buster, lefty, kobe — only for a girl, and whitey

next year i will:

have a car, quit the blog, not work here, have a gf, be so old, not be so bored

from: superfamous girl

to: me

subj: re: re: what will you name your kids

i went to school with with a kid named john. his brothers were mark & luke.

i thought that was a riot.

he sells coke now.

and is a dirtbag.

i lived upstairs from a kid named whitey in college. he lived with brian rad. i used to drop heavy objects on the floor to drive them mad. they had forks on their ceiling and full bottles of robitussin at all times. i kissed them both. but not at the same time. whitey was a poker who gave me a gigantic hickey.

one time, i passed out on halloween on a beanbag in their room while dressed like a dead cheerleader. i woke up and my face was stuck to the beanbag.

i ended up being late for work at the mental institution.

i also got tide in my eye trying to write on the ceiling so that we could see it with the blacklight on. it hurt so bad that i thought i was going to go blind. i even called the school nurse.

uppity negro

no doubt is in town so you’d think ashley would be happy

but shes not happy unless im with her.

and sometimes i look in the mirror and when i do i dont see anyone who you’d be depressed not to be around.

ashley loves attention and normally i dont mind letting our favorite twenty year old princess steal my eyes away from you, beloved computer screen, but this weekend i had to work on some projects and root on the bears and the raiders, who both won, and clean my apartment, and fight crime, and be stinky, and not shave, and read the good book, and read some bad books, and water the plants, and, you know, be a dude.

im 109 years old and i have never had to tell a girl i needed my space, but this weekend i did. it felt weird. not as weird as telling this one supermodel that i didnt care if we didnt have sex because i cherished our friendship so much, but weird nevertheless.

men are not programmed to say no to good lovin from hot young girls who like to fulfill fantasies, but my plants had the right answer.

they said, tony, if you watered us every day, we would die. we love the water, but it would drown us.

the flowers said, and some of us only bloom when we think we’re going to die, the day to day look of many flowering plants do not include the beautiful colors that we know them for being.

the flowers dont know english too well, please excuse them.

still, i got the point.

but ashley didnt.

she called crying and sobbing and left the saddest messages on my phone. please dont leave any more sad messages on my phone, dear angels of the moonlight.

im a stubbly olde man who walks with a cane who has carpal tunnel and types with a pencil scotched taped to the center of my reading glasses.

my hips are about to go out, my breath is foul, my words are foul, my ways are foul, i lie in my blog, and worst of all, i dont respect the president of the united states of america. i think he’s gross.

surely there must be a handsome young man in orange county who could take care of the daisy princess in ways that she deserves.

but strangely there isnt.

and shes not the only one.

i work with some of the hottest women in showbusiness. educated, intelligent, totally together, gorgeous young women who definately know how to please a man, i am sure, and yet they go out into the wild and come back empty-handed and unsatisfied.

and i think about all of the supercool single men who i would fix them up with, and i think, i dont know any supercool single men to fix them up with.

i mean i do, but these women are looking for different types of men.

perfect ones.

im a good job, two inches, and a vette away from being perfect, but ashley doesnt care. she also doesnt care that im old enough to be her dirty neighbor across the street. she loves me for who i am and tells me all the nice things i want to hear but the only thing i can tell her in return is youre far too good for me. go to the skatepark with a big pizza and a mini skirt.

she only says i dont want to go to any skate park, i want you!

and i want her too, america. of course i do.

but i also want to save the world first. and i want to do the right thing. and i want to figure out how im supposed to have thanksgiving with a vegitarian poolside in orange county and not consider myself a sellout.

these are the biggest dillemas i have this week.

dont ever let me bitch about shit.


so the french are pounding their chests

because theres a new report that says that they have more sex than anyone in the world.

the study was conducted by a condom company which explains why france has so many citizens.

still, these results are troubling, and ladies of america, i think you have finally seen what your coyness has resulted in, defeat.

now i have done my best to help our numbers. in july i ordered 60 condoms off ebay. i already had about 30 in reserve and now i only have about 5 left. that means ive used 85 in three and a half months, approximately. at that pace i’d be over 200, which should be our target goal, america.

but ladies, we need your help.

200 means sex every two out of three days.

if you miss a day you’re going to have to double up the next day.

now please, pay attention, this is very important.

i dont mind so much that america is ranked #15 in the world in education of our children.

but to lose to not just france France (167 times a year), the Netherlands (158), Denmark (152), Canada (150) and the uptight Brits (149), it’s downright upsetting to come in at a disappointing 6th place with a measly 138 times a year.

once again, our president has failed us.

see what happens when theres no boobies on tv, and when you win this war on drugs?

all the top placed countries have lax drug and alcohol laws, generous amounts of sex on the small screen, and four of the five have royals to dress up as when their citizens get down.

200 a year, people.

with your help, we can do this.

i know one american who is messing up our average…


everyone got to kiss someone this weekend but me

i just sat around the house and the phone didnt ring once.

no one told me they loved me, no one told them they missed me, no one told me they had a secret feeling toward me, no one bought a book from me, no one left any comments except raymi who is my new girlfriend, no one called me crying saying they yearned for my loins, no one said they had any dreams about me.

but i did get interviewed by Modern Black Webmaster and they asked me some really good questions.

mbw: who’s your audience?

me: me.

mbw: when do you do your best writing?

me: right before my morning jog.

mbw: what advice to you have to other young webmasters of color?

me: kiss more white girls.

mbw: are you always this sarcastic?

me: who’s being sarcastic?

mbw: what sort of computer do you use?

me: i have a 400mhz windows 2k box, underclocked to 375

mbw: thats insane.

me: i know, but it’s never let me down. im loyal.

mbw: whens the book coming out?

me: the printer says i should get it back from them around thanksgiving.

mbw: thats this week!

me: yep, but im not getting my hopes up. if i get it by 12/1 i’ll be happy.

mbw: how were sales?

me: insane.

mbw: will there be photo essays?

me: thats hard to do because those arent my pictures and i dont want Reuters asking for half my gross.

mbw: full color pictures of ashley.

me: dont count on it.

mbw: whats up with her, is she your girl?

me: depends on who you ask.

mbw: why are you playing with her heart?

me: hey, im the victim here.

mbw: if you could date one girl, who would it be?

me: anna kournikova. we’re the right signs.

mbw: whats the best movie youve seen this year?

me: 8 mile

mbw: whats the best cd youve heard?

me: jay z, blue print 2

mbw: have you seen “friday after next”?

me: hopefully i will this weekend.

mbw: who will you take?

me: probably ashley.

mbw: does she like ice cube?

me: no, but she likes me.

mbw: wanna make a shout out?

me: of course.

i have the hottest lawyer!

subj: my adoring fan

date: 94-06-09 19:39:12 EDT

from: jenny677

to: gauchotony

hi boy. philly is the worst. but your letter was uplifting. the shonen knife thing was pretty cool for such a baaaaad band. sorry but i must dissent. i wish i had that huge beasties poster you do. i would style if i did. i spent 10 dollars on roach shit today– not cool. i still cant believe how not cool and not attractive marcus is. i intimidate him. i love it.

i saw a cute boy today, twice at two different places like 2 hours apart. must be fate. your letter was weird. why do you think i wouldnt like you if i saw you? that only happens with people who are uptight and stuffy like my ol pal marcus so how does that bulletin board thing here work? would you send me the # again? im absent minded.

still no word on the whereabouts of renee for the weekend and she isnt a bitch. shes just like me, only she is in med school. i wish you lived here. i would always go to your house cos mine has roaches.

i think its good for you to regulate with your giiiirls. most suck anyhow. why waste testosterone or whatever that is you have that makes you a man. i painted my nails now im feminine, but i did it while listening to rage because i never wanna be a girily. the singer for rage is sexxxeeeeeee.

everyone here is rich. too bad they all suck bad. how funny that money cant make you cooler. me i am wicked cool but no one gets to know me because there is like a 3 week trial period where i am impossible just cos i am and lots dont get past that. i think you did.

my stomach hurts. roach shit no doubt. my long distance bill is carazy and im gonna get in trouble when poppa gets a hold of it. god stomach hurts. my stomach is so cute. a little pudgy but i like it like that.

how can you love me when your ex and i are opposites? thats weird little boy. your gettin old you know that? me im young. i want to rock right now. i wanna boy so bad it gives me a headache. a tall boy with big clothes and big hands and nice breath. i feel icky. gotta lye.

bye boy who theoretically should be my soulmate.