busblog

nothing in here is true

  1. Wednesday, December 25, 2002
  2. Tuesday, December 24, 2002

    The Clash 

    Give ‘Em Enough Rope

    Sony Records

    Stay Free

    (Jones/Strummer)

    we met when we were in school

    never took no shit from no one, we weren’t fools

    the teacher says we’re dumb

    we’re only having fun

    we piss on everyone

    in the classroom

    when we got thrown out i left without much fuss

    an’ weekends we’d go dancing

    down streatham on the bus

    you always made me laugh

    got me in bad fights

    play me pool all night

    smokin’ menthol

    i practised daily in my room

    you were down the crown planning your next move

    go on a nicking spree

    hit the wrong guy

    each of you get three

    years in brixton

    i did my very best to write

    how was butlins?

    were the screws too tight?

    when you lot get out

    were gonna hit the town

    we’ll burn it fuckin’ down

    to a cinder

    cos years have passed and things have changed

    and i move anyway i wanna go

    i’ll never forget the feeling i got

    when i heard that you’d got home

    an’ i’ll never forget the smile on my face

    ‘cos i knew where you would be

    an’ if you’re in the crown tonight

    have a drink on me

    but go easy…

    step lightly…

    stay free

  3. my flesh had melted into my bone, i was on fire, and yet somehow i was shiverring. 

    i was greeted by a man in a Santa suit with a clipboard who extended his white gloved hand who said, “welcome to Hell.”

    i shook his hand and a buzzer went off in my palm.

    “i dont have time to give you the grande tour, my apologies, we have to get you suited up and we dont have much time.” he said.

    i said a little prayer as we wound our way through the dark caves lit by torches and occasional flourescent tubes.

    no need to pray down here, we can read your mind, and the prayers only go on your permanent record and used against you in nasty little ways, my guide esped to me and led me to a giant cave filled with Santa Claus suits.

    quickly i can tell you the purpose of Hell, it’s not to punish you, it’s to torment the Creator. tomorrow is His birthday. it’s our assignment to water it down, to trivilize it, to ruin it, to distract people’s thoughts, to do everything we can to take the Holiness away from it and make it seem like a child’s birthday party.

    but it is a child’s birthday party. it’s Je–

    my mouth was zippered shut.

    we dont say the J word down here.

    my mouth was unzipped.

    Xmas isnt just a child’s birthday, it’s a lot more than that, pastor, dont be coy. yes it’s Someone’s birthday, but we dont want it to be about Him we want it to be about every other child in the world Except Him. comprende?

    i nodded.

    Santa Claus is the greatest acheivement of Hell. we have successfully intergrated our fake-out on the entire planet. anywhere you go you are more likely to see a picture of the white jolly elf than the Creator of the Universe. even in Latin America where people name their children after the Messiah you will see Santa. Even in Bethlehem, even in church.

    within minutes i was in the familiar jacket, boots, gloves, fake beard and cap. and i was loaded onto a bus and before i knew it i was back on Earth.

    Home.

    i couldnt speak the words that i wanted to.

    i stood outside a shopping mall ringing a bell. people put money into my cauldron.

    all i could say was ho ho ho.

    because it wasnt Hell, i was capable of saying Merrrrrrry Christmas, but it was an ironic one. A celebration of theft. I thanked people for their money. It wasnt going to the poor or the sick or the needy. It was going to Hell. my new home.

    after lunch i was collected, my money was counted and i was reassigned to the throne inside the mall where little kids sat on my lap and mothers cooed and fathers smiled for the first time in a long time.

    pictures were taken and little kids told me what they wanted and i lied and told them that they would get everythign that they wanted.

    were you a good little boy this year?

    yes, Santa.

    were you good to your mother and your father?

    uh huh.

    were you good to your brothers and your sisters?

    i was good to my sister, but i dont gots any brothers.

    did you clean up your room like a good boy?

    i dont gots a room, santa claus. i sleep on the couch.

    the little kid laughed like it was the silliest question ever.

    i just wept.

    but theres no crying in the Santa suit.

    all that came out was ho ho ho.

  4. interview with a pro journalist 

    don’t: look, it’s tony pierce.

    tony: wow, i was just signing off

    don’t: that would be dumb.

    don’t: :-)

    tony: i have to write about Hell

    don’t: tony doesn’t like me anymore.

    tony: don’t doesnt like me any more

    don’t: i don’t even get exciting e-mails anymore like i did for that day.

    don’t: it was like a one night stand.

    tony: you shouldnt feel bad

    tony: its not you

    tony: ive just had a few bad online relationships

    tony: recently

    tony: as in Very recently

    don’t: what does that have to do with me.

    don’t: nada.

    don’t: listen.

    don’t: i got my airplane tickets today for l.a. i’ll be flying into lax january 13th. i’ll be there for 4 days and then i fly to maui. we should sit down and do that interview, wouldn’t that be fun.

    tony: all interviews i do are on aol

    don’t: that’s weird.

    tony: not really

    tony: that way if someone tries to make me look dumber than i really am

    tony: i have the interview that i can put on my site

    don’t: i thought the perks would be more appealing.

    don’t: hm, okay.

    don’t: i offered.

    tony: what sign did you say you were?

    tony: taurus?

    tony: the bull?

    don’t: right.

    don’t: yup.

    tony: isnt the customer always right?

    don’t: which one of us is the customer.

    tony: mememememememememe

    tony: whats the problem with letting me do it the way i want to?

    don’t: okay, i didn’t know you had such a problem in social situations.

    tony: im a master of social situations

    tony: and im a good interview

    tony: why dont you want me to feel comfortable?

    tony: why do you want me to be misquoted?

    don’t: you’re not comfortable meeting people in real life?

    tony: misunderstood

    tony: i dont think that people who know me through my writing

    don’t: you could sit across from me and answer the questions on paper and we could pass it back and forth.

    tony: will like me as much in person

    don’t: what do you have to lose, i mean, you said i’m hot.

    don’t: even just to get a peek at the cleavage.

    don’t: or the ass even.

    tony: i thought we were talking about an interview?

    don’t: well, we’d be naked and everything.

    tony: you will come here and get naked and interview me?

    don’t: no, i couldn’t interview naked.

    tony: why?

    don’t: i would feel dirty.

    tony: whats dirty about your body?

    don’t: hah.

    don’t: hey, i’m asking the questions.

    tony: good luck with that ideal

    tony: why do you want to get naked for me?

    don’t: i don’t.

    don’t: i want to sit across from you with a tape recorder.

    tony: why is my voice more important than my words?

    don’t: because i’ll be in l.a., that’s the only reason.

    don’t: so, why not.

    don’t: four days.

    don’t: f o u r

    don’t: 1 2 3 4

    tony: where are you staying?

    don’t: hotel, my sister is coming with me.

    don’t: but.

    don’t: laksjdf

    don’t: woah.

    tony: what sign is your sister?

    don’t: taurus.

    tony: twin?

    don’t: nope.

    tony: damn

    don’t: do you know where the hyatt anaheim is.

    tony: yes

    don’t: nice?

    tony: do you like disneyland?

    don’t: no.

    tony: thats all thats going on in anaheim

    don’t: oh.

    tony: do you like your pussy eaten?

    don’t: are you going to answer me.

    tony: i have never been to the hyatt anaheim

    tony: im sure it’s fine

    don’t: there’s supposed to be someone famous at the hyatt anaheim this week.

    don’t: that’s not my question, dope.

    don’t: we’re staying at the beverly hills hotel.

    tony: tony robbins isnt that famous

    tony: im #3 tony on google, he’s like #15

    don’t: ugh.

    don’t: sigh.

    tony: i know

    tony: im #4

    don’t: how come you said you were in bad online relationships if you’ve never met anyone online.

    tony: well, thats one of the problems

    tony: she keeps teasing me

    tony: telling me she will come see me

    tony: then doesnt

    don’t: than she’s bullshit.

    tony: yep

    don’t: detach your heart from the situation.

    tony: i try

    tony: i like her a lot though

    don’t: how do you know she’s her.

    tony: she had her brother make a little movie

    tony: her on the phone talking to me

    don’t: oh.

    tony: crazy

    don’t: hmm.

    don’t: that’s not good.

    tony: what isnt?

    don’t: is it that pasty girl?

    tony: all you girls are pasty

    don’t: i’m not.

    tony: show me more pics

    don’t: k, hold.

    don’t: i bet you deleted the other ones.

    tony: not of you i didnt

    don’t: you should.

    tony: why?

    don’t: shit, if they’re not going to end up on tonypierce.com than fuck it.

    tony: they dont fit

    tony: keep trying

    tony: right now im writing about Hell

    tony: and about Santa

    tony: if you have pics of either of those things

    tony: starring you

    tony: then you might have a chance

    don’t: i would need to re-start my other computer, transfer them to disk and get them onto this computer, you’re not going to make me do all that, are you?

    tony: ive read that its impossible to make a taurus woman do anything

    don’t: not true.

    tony: whats the key?

    don’t: that’s the secret.

    tony: if you want to get me more pictures

    tony: i will promise to stay on line

    tony: i really want to write right now

    tony: so it might be perfect

    don’t: so, in other words…

    tony: go get your pics

    tony: i’ll be here

    don’t: but don’t talk.

    tony: dont you want to find out about hell?

    don’t: no.

    tony: dont you like my writing?

    don’t: i like your writing but i don’t think i like you very much.

    don’t: that’s the conflict.

    tony: because you cant control me?

    don’t: hehe.

    tony: i will tell you how to control me

    tony: wear a short plaid skirt

    tony: knee highs

    tony: sexy shoes

    tony: lipstick

    tony: and know what you want

    don’t: well, i’ve been telling you what i want for 17 minutes.

    don’t: it’s not working.

    don’t: so, you’re right, everything you do write is a lie.

    don’t: :-)

    tony: i gave you the secret and you piss on it

    don’t: and i just proved your theory wrong.

    don’t: okay, here we go.

    don’t: here’s one of me with short hair.

    don’t: don’t laugh on the inside.

    don’t: connect with me baby.

    tony wants to directly connect.

    don’t is now directly connected.

    don’t:

    don’t: that was bad.

    don’t: i should not have shown that.

    don’t: that was sick and wrong.

    tony: was that on your wedding day?

    don’t: i wish.

    don’t: oh!

    don’t: here’s me being cute.

    don’t:

    don’t: i love those shoes.

    tony: kulats

    don’t: see, i’m not pasty.

    don’t: yup.

    tony: cant tell

    don’t: bullshit.

    tony: more

    don’t: wanna see my boat?

    don’t: no, nevermind.

    tony: everytime you say nevermind

    don’t: you want to hurt me bad.

    don’t: real bad.

    tony: no, a baby seal gets clubbed

    don’t: i think out loud, that’s all.

    don’t: shut the fuck up.

    tony: its true

    don’t: shhhh

    tony: i have brilliance to deliver

    don’t: i don’t show anyone my boat, feel special.

    tony: i feel very special

    tony: sorta

    don’t: right.

    tony: you have 4 more minutes

    don’t: to what.

    tony: till i have to write

    don’t: i’m timed.

    tony: 3

    don’t: don’t doesn’t get timed.

    tony: don’t wants to be the man so badly

    don’t: so, which day should i book for personal tony time. the 13th, the 14th, the 15th or the 16th.

    don’t: i can tell you where to meet me, you can show up freely.

    don’t: if you don’t, i’ll know you’re a pussy.

    don’t: and don’t time people, it’s dumb.

    tony: my schedule isnt in front of me

    tony: im a pussy about certain things, but not about meeting girls

    don’t: i’m sure all four are open.

    tony: everything i do is dumb

    tony: dont be so sure

    tony: 1

    don’t: please stop.

    tony: a good picture buys you 4 more minutes

    don’t: i’m not a trick.

    tony: dont project

    tony: its called a compromise

    don’t: a compromise.

    don’t: i guess i just look at things differently.

    don’t: hmm.

    tony: -1

    don’t: stop.

    tony: maybe youve had all day to write

    tony: i didnt

    don’t: i haven’t.

    tony: i had to make out with a beautiful twnty year old

    tony: i had to feel her up

    don’t: that’s just what i was thinking to myself about.

    tony: i had to buy her mexican food

    don’t: i should be working but i’m talking.

    don’t: why?

    tony: then i had to go to another girls house

    don’t: because i want to.

    tony: and feed her cats

    tony: but the cats werent anywhere to be found

    tony: -2

    tony: then i had to drive on the hollywood freeway to go home

    tony: and the phone rings a lot here

    don’t: i still need to get myself off in shower before bed so don’t think you’re the only one with a full schedule, tony pierce.

    tony: i dont beat off on sunday

    don’t: are you going to answer me.

    tony: so i have a double load here

    don’t: or should i just give up for good.

    tony: that sits and waits untill im done writing

    tony: -3

    tony: whats the question?

    don’t: you know the question.

    tony: 9 inches

    don’t: seriously now.

    don’t: should i just stop.

    tony: probably

    tony: i like girls who do as i say

    tony: and give me pics

    tony: and say sweet things to me

    tony: incredibly easy

    don’t: that’s a downer.

    tony: -5

    tony: whats so down about it?

    don’t: because i figured you would want to meet me.

    don’t: nice talking to you though, i really appreciate your time.

    don’t: i guess i always miss out on the good ones.

    tony: poor you

    tony: -7

    don’t: maybe you’ll change your mind.

    tony: about what?

    don’t: maybe it’ll happen in the next 2 minutes.

    don’t: about being dumb towards me.

    tony: -9

    don’t: really, just no desire at all?

    tony: to meet someone i dont know?

    don’t: yes, i guess.

    tony: i dont even go see the people i love the most!

    tony: i live 2 miles from 15 friends

    tony: i dont see them

    tony: i have Blooks for them

    tony: perfect excuses to see them

    tony: its Christmas

    tony: i dont see them

    don’t: they’re not me.

    tony: so dont take it personally

    tony: fine, what makes you so special?

    tony: do tell.

    tony: writer girl

    don’t: you can’t go wrong.

    tony: in what way?

    don’t: i’m well-rounded.

    don’t: heh.

    tony: you have a fat ass?

    don’t: you’re just scared you might like it.

    tony: i prefer fat asses

    tony: oh yeah thats what else i did today

    tony: gave a blook to a girl with a perfect ass

    tony: at her home

    tony: she looked incredible

    don’t: did you touch it.

    tony: she was sick

    tony: i stayed on the porch

    tony: hadnt seen her in 5 months

    tony: maybe more

    tony: stuck my arm all the way out

    don’t: i’d love to hear more but i want to talk about me.

    tony: gave it to her

    tony: ran off

    tony: she Was a virgin

    tony: 25 yrs old

    tony: professional

    tony: D cups

    don’t: ooo, d cups.

    tony: perfect ass

    tony: thick lips

    tony: smart

    don’t: sounds nice, wish i coulda gotten a piece of the coochie.

    don’t: can we talk about me.

    tony: ive ignored her for half a year

    don’t: you’ve ignored me for 7 minutes.

    tony: so, the question is,

    tony: with that all said

    tony: why should i meet you?

    don’t: because you were looking for a don’t to fill that void.

    tony: i told you what i liked

    tony: you are saying thats not you

    don’t: why do you have to be difficult.

    don’t: why do questions have to be involved.

    tony: im being easy as pie

    don’t: why not me.

    don’t: it’s stupid.

    don’t: why the fuck not.

    tony: cuz you dont want what i want

    don’t: eh?

    tony: i am old enough to know what i need

    tony: and what i want

    don’t: what do i want that you don’t want.

    don’t: do tell.

    tony: you want to be the man

    tony: you want control

    tony: you want things your way

    tony: – 18

    don’t: no, that’s just the way things happen.

    don’t: that’s stupid.

    tony: send me a picture

    don’t: in the mail?

    tony: now

    don’t: testing me, i like it.

    don’t: i’m not 19, i’m 23 remember.

    tony: ok, im gonna go write now

    don’t: i bore you.

    tony: you dont listen

    tony: say goodnight, don’t.

    don’t: or took 2 minutes to write an e-mail.

    don’t: you’re a dick.

    tony: guilty

    tony: if telling you i have waited all night to write

    tony: and then spending a half hour with your pouty ass is being a dick

    tony: then im guilty as hell

    don’t: eh, i don’t give a shit.

    don’t: i’m a better writer anyway.

    tony: no shit

    tony: you are

    tony: i agree

    tony: you make money off your shit

    tony: all i get are girls who want to fuck me

    don’t: my interview could have been called “pussy”

    tony: too bad you dont have the guts

    tony: ironic

    don’t: the ones who talk about it are the ones who don’t get it.

    don’t: the guts to what.

    tony: to call it pussy

    don’t: you’re not worth it.

    tony: i offered to fly to LA to fuck him, he said he’d think about it, this is a story about a pussy

    don’t: you could have been.

    don’t: did i?

    tony: -24

    don’t: wow, i must have been slipped some roofies when i said that.

    don’t: karma’s a bitch.

    tony: <--- Christian tony: <--- couldnt give a shit about "karma" don’t: that’s why you don’t make money off your shit because you talk to people like they’re 4.

    don’t: god, if i were 5 years old, i’d prank you.

    tony: i dont make money off my shit because publishers wouldnt know where to put my shit

    tony: prank away

    tony: im going to write

    tony: adios

    don’t: right next to the autobiography of

    don’t: i’m not done yelling at you.

    tony: i’ll give you three more minutes

    tony: im going to change your name

    tony: and put this on the blog

    don’t: no.

    tony: gimme a good picture

    tony: i truly dont appreciate people who dont appreciate my time

    don’t: why would you put something on to distort our conversation and make me look like an ass.

    don’t: i appreciate your time when it’s spent doodling with me.

    don’t: see that!

    tony: so youre admitting that youve been an ass to me for the last half hour?

    don’t: because i’m offended.

    don’t: i’m not an ass.

    don’t: i never said that.

    tony: unlike your interview of me, im not going to change your words

    tony: so if you havent acted like an ass

    tony: theres no way i could make you “look” like one

    don’t: why would you put an aol conversation up.

    don’t: like you’re not going to write a little snotty paragraph to go with it.

    tony: im not drudge

    tony: i dont need any snotty intro

    don’t: do you have a deep voice.

    tony: -30

    don’t: answer me.

    tony: deeper than youd think

    don’t: i doubt that.

    tony: say goodnight to the nice people now

    don’t: no.

    don’t: i’m not finished.

    don’t: and neither are you.

    tony: what do you want your fake name to be?

    don’t: don’t.

    tony: perfect

    don’t: don’t.

    don’t: seriously.

    don’t: sigh.

    don’t: please.

    don’t: give me your phone number.

    tony: why?

    tony: you have it

    don’t: not anymore.

    tony: what happened to it

    don’t: i wrote it at work.

    tony: i asked you nicely to let me work

    tony: i told you my circumstance

    tony: you saw i havent been able to write all day

    tony: 1 entry????

    tony: so not cool/

    tony: instead of saying, cool man, hit me up when youre done

    don’t: sigh.

    tony: you were all

    tony: me me me me me me me me me me

    don’t: i was born in may.

    don’t: just right now.

    tony: i know lots of people born in may

    don’t: it’s not me mem em ememe always.

    tony: angels

    don’t: i’m a baby.

    don’t: i’m the youngest.

    tony: hey

    tony: your time is up

    tony: -36

    don’t: do you realize that when you sign off on me, this is our last conversation.

    tony: do you realize that i

    tony: dont care

    tony: or

    tony: believe you?

    don’t: oh.

    tony: if anyone ever doubted that i am in Hell

    tony: now they know the truth.

    don’t: that was shitty to say to someone before christmas.

    don’t: i’m sorry i made you feel like that.

    don’t: i thought it was funny.

    tony: if you dont let me write, i will print all of this

    don’t: why don’t you just block me.

    tony: why dont you just do what the person says will make them happy?

    don’t: because if you don’t give a shit, just block me.

    tony: because if i had blocked you, i would have never had this post

    government monkey

  5. Sunday, December 22, 2002

    the bus arrived and kurt cobain shook my hand and wished me luck. 

    what was different about this bus was it wasn’t a city bus like the others, this was a greyhound luxury cruiser. it raised my spirits cuz i figured they wouldn’t send a sweet greyhound for people who were going to end up in Hell. plus this bus said it was going to Springfield. i hugged kurt and climbed aboard.

    it was a long way to springfield and as always i fell asleep within minutes of the gentle rocking in the cabin. when i woke up i saw that we were parked at the foot of a giant escalator at second and euclid next to a curious solar monorail .

    after we walked through the mortal detector we were guided to the escalator and an angel held a clip board and as we got on he put a check next to our names.

    it was a long climb, this escalator. i could see all of springfield, shelbyville, and much of capital city.

    after a while i was above the clouds.

    i reached the top of the ascent

    and then, of course

    i fell.

    i tumbled and

    hurtled and

    somersaulted and

    free fell and

    plummeted

    and

    plummeted

    and

    screamed the whole way

    and then

    out came two angels.

    name

    tony

    game

    what?

    none.

    help me!

    age?

    109.

    now isn’t the time to lie

    119.

    you’re going to hell, mr. pierce.

    ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

    i was falling at a more rapid pace. the wind cut at me.

    it was cold, but it was getting warmer.

    don’t i get to be judged first?

    you were judged as you got on the escalator.

    but wasn’t God supposed to judge me?

    He was The One with The Clipboard.

    ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

    i was dropping at a faster pace almost like something was pushing me.

    but i didn’t do anything bad!

    everything you did was bad.

    but i loved the Lord

    then why did you download all that porn?

    ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

    and gigs of mp3s?

    i was falling so fast i could hardly breathe.

    when was the last time you went to church?

    frisco?

    nineteen ninety-five.

    that church was a joke!

    then why didn’t you find a new one?

    you found new girlfriends.

    you found new jobs

    you found new liquor stores.

    you found new vices.

    you found new whores.

    i never paid for sex.

    directly.

    the angel who wasn’t saying anything stood next to a plummeting blackboard keeping score. underneath the word angel were several dozen hash marks. underneath the word tony there were none.

    you devirginized three girls.

    they were women.

    they were angels.

    the blackboard angel lifted his eyebrows, the talking angel nodded and sighed.

    angels.

    ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

    didn’t you notice their perfect bodies?

    three more hashmarks were added to the angel’s tally.

    but i didn’t know!

    you should have waited until you were married.

    Thats not in the Bible!

    one of them went away for summer vacation and thought she was pregnant and called you and you didn’t call back.

    i told her not to call me that summer! i wanted her to get over me.

    she thought she was pregnant.

    she couldn’t have been pregnant, we used condoms every time.

    she thought she was pregnant!

    she wasn’t pregnant!!

    i hurtled down ridiculously. almost as something was pulling me.

    you never studied at school.

    that’s a sin?

    you wasted all of your talents.

    that’s not a sin either!

    it’s not a good thing.

    a mark was added to the angel’s long line.

    what are Jesus’s brothers’ names?

    Josis, Philip… aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

    the one angel nodded to the other angel, three more marks were put on the board.

    i can’t concentrate under this pressure!!!!!

    sure you can, name the Showtime Lakers

    Magic, Worthy, Byron Scott, Kareem, Rambis, Cooper, Coach Pat Riley.

    see, you can concentrate fine, so what are the names of the three other brothers of the Messiah?

    AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

    you’re a minister yet you don’t know the Word. you write your own words, but you’re not interested in anyone elses. you memorize porn stars’ names, and not the real names of the man who’s heaven you say you want to live in for Eternity. you are what is called a Taker, a User, a Sinner, a Fool.

    watch how the Fool falls.

    i cried as i plummeted because i knew it was all true. as i tried to argue back my throat clogged up and tightened.

    your sundays weren’t kept Holy. you kept your football schedule Holy, but that’s all.

    another mark was added to the tally.

    we hit the Earth with a painful slam and tunneled into its core. now it got hot and uncomfortable.

    you didn’t honor your mother or father. you were the worst brother imaginable.

    i never touched my sister!

    you say these things as if you’re proud. “i never paid for sex, i never touched my sister.” do you think Heaven is for everyone who isn’t a total monster? no, its a special place for special people who have beautiful hearts and thoughts and deeds.

    but.

    didn’t you conceive a video game idea where you would cross NBA JAM with Mortal Kombat and have the basketball players fight each other after a hard foul?

    but…

    and didn’t you have a halftime bonus round where the halftime leader was given a rifle and for 24 seconds could shoot into the stands and pick off as many of the opposing fans as possible until a vendor, child, cheerleader, or mascot was shot?

    AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

    you’re a sick man.

    what about the Grace of God?

    are you Kurt Cobain? are you someone who lived out in the jungles of africa who never knew about the 10 Commandments but was of pure spirit anyway? no, you were a very well-educated, intelligent, highly capable Christian minister who squandered all of his talents unless it meant that it could get him flesh.

    you’ll get plenty of flesh where you’re going, mr. pierce.

    enjoy eternity where your heart truly resided.

    and with a splash i landed hard into the scorching depths of the violently boiling Lake of Fire where i sank while my skin bubbled and burned off

    hair on fire

    muscles melting

    i bobbed back to the surface, flaming,

    swam with much difficulty as my hands pulled at the flames and not water

    finally i made it to the shore only to discover sand so hot that the flames engulfed themselves

    hothothothot i danced across the sand with no relief.

    from atop boulders the crowds squealed with laughter and pointed as the spotlights followed me and the scoreboard spelled out my name and listed my crimes while the thrash metal ripped through the sky.

    i ran to what looked to be a cold cold above ground pool fifty yards away.

    i took long strides and cried with anticipation as i approached and then i dove

    right into three hundred gallons

    of ice cold

    gasoline

    which exploded upon my flaming arrival.

    little green footballs

  6. Saturday, December 21, 2002

    I Must be Tony’s Bitch 

    by wKen

    I received my copy of Tony Pierce’s new “Blook” in the mail yesterday. This is the second book that I have bought from a blogger trying to move their new media work into old media.

    The first was Kitty Bukkake‘s “Kitty Meets the Furries”. Kitty took one incident from her blog and turned it into a short, clever, attractively illustrated book.

    Tony, though, takes his blog, pretty much as-is (minus the photos) and makes it available on paper.

    There are some posts missing, but I’m assuming much of that has to do with photo copyright issues and tight editing.

    I don’t have my copy with me, so everything I type is from my very poor memory, but I believe the first entry in the blook is from August of 2001. This is a good six months or so before I had run into Tony’s site, so it is interesting to see how he has evolved as a writer over the last year and a half. I don’t mean as in “improved”, because he was a great writer back then, too. It’s just interesting to see how characters emerge and he develops his writing “voice”.

    Tony even gives credit to the person who coined the term “blook”, which is funny to me, as it shows how most people online recognize the importance of attribution and links to the whole blogging system. If writers in old media had been so thoughtful, it would be much easier to determine how our language has developed and why.

    It surprises me that more blog authors haven’t taken the huge volume of material on their sites and produced a book of their own. Don’t most bloggers yearn to be a published author? “Blook” isn’t a vanity printing, though. Tony’s paper blog is a good read (which I have nowhere near finished), showing that, ultimately, quality writing holds up in any form. I recommend it to anyone that enjoys his current work.

    Okay, that’s enough talk about TP for this year. People are gonna start to think we got something going on.

    wKen

  7. Friday, December 20, 2002
  8. kurt asked a fucked up question. 

    the fucked up question.

    so are you ready?

    i knew what he was asking but i pretended that i didnt.

    ready for what?

    ready to be judged?

    sure.

    kurt esped me. i didnt like it when he did but he did and it scared the hell out of me.

    cockiness wont help you on this one, tough guy. this is one guy who knows when youve been naughty. knows when youve been nice. all your charm all your bullshit all your good clothes are worthless on this one.

    we walked outside to catch the bus to the pearly gates. the ladies blew kisses at me and waved their perfumed hankerchiefs and wished me luck.

    we sat on the bench and watched the sun set over the mountains.

    the air was crisp, bitter, fresh from the latest rainstorm.

    for the first time i noticed kurt’s low top one stars on the top of the left shoe was scrawled Courtney and on the right shoe was Frances. there were little hearts drawn around the letters and a few gold stars that had begun to peel off.

    it nearly made me cry.

    i saw some birds flying in the distance and for some reason i wanted to shoot at them, if only i had a rifle. and i thought that i was screwed for this judgement cuz my heart is so far from being pure. so far from being good. it’s a cloudy, dark, spooky place and out of the grit comes imagined prettiness and fa la la, but it’s pretty much a fiesta of porn, obsenities, fear, hate.

    i was fucked.

    youre not fucked, kurt esped.

    i elbowed him and told him to knock that esp shit off, i was nervous enough.

    dude, youre an ordained minister. you know the Bible, you have a heart of gold, 14 carat, but it’s still gold. and everyone, by the way, hates, and thinks about sex, and wants to pick off birds flying across the perfect sky when theyre anxious.

    i really wanted to go back in that whorehouse and play a little more pinball.

    and i had to piss like a bitch.

    instapundit

  9. Thursday, December 19, 2002

    is christmas a big deal in heaven, kurt?” 

    you better capitalize that shit, fucker.

    capitalize what?

    both those words.

    i thought we got judged by our hearts and not our acts.

    your acts are a reflection of your heart, dumbass.

    i have respect.

    then show it.

    is Christmas a big deal in Heaven?

    yes, duh.

    do people light decorations in heaven?

    whats that?

    do people light decorations in heaven?

    once again?

    oh shit, sorry, do people light up decorations in Heaven for Christmas?

    everyday is like Christmas in Heaven. it’s gorgeous, sparkling, wonderful. only difference is the music. carols like you couldnt believe. lots youve never heard.

    really?

    sure. jingle bells gets a little tedious for eternity.

    skinny model

  10. me and kurt had been partying for nearly four days straight with very little sleep. 

    i still looked sweet as hell, but the lack of rest was starting to show on the grunge king.

    he told me that one of the best parts of heaven was the sleep.

    pillows made of clouds, warmed by the sun, hidden orchestras playing pink floyd and pleasant dreams.

    sleeps with the angels, neil young once sang about me, and if only he knew.

    with all the activities that go on up there, kurt told me, sleep is an important part.

    i like to pop my eyeballs out and put them in the nightstand next to my bed, cuz it can be super bright up there in the mornings.

    i asked him if he has slept with any girls up in heaven and he shook his head.

    youre waiting for courtney?

    yes.

    thats so romantic.

    and silly, shes not gonna make it up here.

    what about the Grace of God?

    thats her only hope. i pray every day and every night that she will make the cut, but i dont know. i just dont see her getting on her knees for Him and begging forgiveness. she likes to blame, she likes to bitch, she likes to try to turn the tables.

    im so sorry to hear that.

    and the shame shower? she would find a way to climb up there and strangle some of those baby angels. it wouldnt be pretty.

    but still he waits.

    dappled dreams and merry widows

    chirpy cheers and ice cold beers

    floating far above the radar

    nothings dumber than day old fears

    the lights around your heart’s delightful

    i sommersault around your yard

    the petty pace of life’s tremendous

    but the waiting is the hardest part.

    dirty fez