busblog

nothing in here is true

  1. Thursday, March 27, 2003

    anti wrote in 

    to ask me if i hadnt linked him because i was too busy fighting crime, or because i thought his “shit sucked.”

    i like anti’s shit. a lot, as a matter of fact.

    im glad he takes a lot of pictures, and talks to raymi all the time, and represents LA in a positive fashion. plus submitted a busblog tshirt idea (pictured).

    only reason i havent linked him is cuz i am sort of a busy lad. it sucks.

    so thank you anti, for letting me know ive slighted you, a thousand apolgies.

    here’s some other people who linked me this month who i havent linked in return yet. please check out their sites:

    pinkish

    coyotes bark

    a dog named clipper

    oscar

    matt

    moot point

    sullivan

    the faith fools

    stiff drinks

    blue cad

    daily unwind

    john griffiths

    tikk.net

    vihm

    bettie girl

    shot in the dark

    off the subject

    splink

    ki~2:le bloc

    chryde

    fussy

    it could be a lot better too

    i love you all.

  2. Wednesday, March 26, 2003

    the other day i was being interviewed by the Blacker Panthers. 

    theyre like the xbi except cooler, and all black.

    only problem is they dont have chopper one, the finest flying machine ever to wind up in the right hands.

    he read my resume and asked me if i was, like amy said, part of the santa barbara mafia.

    i told him that if i were ever to get a tatto, i would get a huge old english typefaced 93117 across my broad back, and the italicized Daily Nexus branded on my arm.

    the Nexus was the student run college paper of ucsb. a daily paper with no adult supervision, no administration interference, plenty of advertising, for a campus that didnt even have one journalism class.

    annual winners of the california intercollegiate press association awards, we accepted our plaques and trophies in dresses and makeup as kegs chilled in our awaiting hotel rooms. jacuzzis and makeout sessions, music at all times, everyone was brilliant.

    and unlike great college athletic teams, none of us were recruited. it was all a beautiful accident. and a ridiculous amount of us see each other all the time.

    amy mentioned Matt Welch, Ben Sullivan, Doug Arellanes, Chris Scheer, Os Tyler, Steve Czaban, Adam Liebowitz, Don Frances most of Tsar and Marc Brown, though he was primarily a radio guy, but she left out Nexus photographer Genevive Field.

    Genevive is co-founder of a little site called Nerve.com, maybe your single’s ad is on it.

    Easilly the smartest site about sex and sensualtiy on the web, filled with some of the finest photographs and writing on human relations, Nerve just could be the most under-reported shining star on the net.

    Despite this oversight (maybe she was only pointing to mafiosos with blogs, or who host blogs), Amy is my hero because she’s so baddass that has made a living by writing and editing for her hometown papers regardless of whether she was living in Isla Vista, Gilroy, LA, or Manhattan.

    One of my dreams is to have a cable access tv show called Bloggers where we’d sit around and talk about current events and the web.

    If I ever did a show in New York I would make sure to invite Amy, Genevive, and Adam Leibowitz as panelists, and afterwards Amy would drink us under the table.

    amy langfield

  3. tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow skips across the street 

    with petty pace and see through dress

    tonights porchlight of promises is burn out and rotting

    the welcome mats been soiled

    the eggs are all hard boiled.

    take me down to the paradise city

    where the girls are cheap

    and the beers are pretty.

    oh,

    take me down.

    sometimes i write the dumbest poems that never go anywhere except a downward spiral into plagarism.

    usually i dont share these dead end nothings, but today is your unlucky day.

    i think its good for people to let others see their rough drafts and failed attempts at stuff.

    i heard the rough mix of the new tsar single a week ago and it was incredible.

    i reminded me of the demo mix of had a dad that jane’s addiction released as the b side of been caught stealing.

    sometimes the frayed edges are better left untrimmed, especially when you are familiar with the polished finished result.

    in my case you can see that all the polishing in the world doesnt help.

    my dumbness shines through despite all the editing in the world.

    today is hump day.

    do you have any idea how long its been since ive been properly humped?

    for a little while i was chomping at the bit, scratching at the floorboards, barking at the airplanes, but now ive settled down and accepted my fate.

    somehow that scares me more than not getting any.

    myballsarefarfromblue

    nothinginhereistrue

    blamb blog + sara

  4. two of my ex-girlfriends had dinner and drinks last night. 

    i know this because one of them calls me every night and we talk and talk and talk.

    i dont care if you think this entry is sappy. it will be.

    i love both of these women so much, and everyone who meets either of them loves them so much too.

    my mom and sister and brother in law and my little neice are coming to california in the fall and the last time they did that both of my ex’s got to hang out with me and my family and it was great.

    not everything in the world is great so it’s nice to talk about things when they are.

    so last night they talked and got drunk and talked about yours truly and reportedly had some nice things to say about me. imagine that!

    but the best part is that theyre actually becoming pretty good friends, and for some reason that overwhelmed me with such joy that i almost started crying.

    i was pretty emotional yesterday, so i probably would have cried happy tears at the lamest commercial.

    the sun is bright and strong and warm today in los angeles and nobody seemed to like my little story about the fish and the billy goat, and you know what, i couldnt care less, cuz i like that story and thats all that matters.

    lots of people have linked me this month and theyve emailed me to tell me that theyve linked me and tonight im going to write a special little post for them because they deserve it, so all of you who have been kind enough to acknowledge the busblog on your blogs, gratzi.

    and for those of you who still havent been linked in return, please just leave a little comment after this post and i will be sure to return the favor later tonight.

    and to the nice girl who sent me more pictures of herself even though i told her that i was actually pretty happy,

    move here and i will take good care of you.

    amy is my hero

  5. Tuesday, March 25, 2003

    one of the things you can do when youre dead is talk to the animals. 

    and one day i was swimming and i didnt have to worry about holding my breath so i was swimming underwater without a care in the world

    and i said hello to a fish

    and it said hello back.

    and i said are you an alive fish or a dead one.

    and he said a dead one.

    and i said when you were swimming around when you were alive, were you ever scared by the sharks?

    and the fish said, what sharks?

    there was a billy goat down there swimming next to us and laughed at the fish for being

    ni-i-i-i-i-i-eve

    but that billy goat didnt know what he was talking about, and thankfully he swam away.

    then the fish told me he wasnt going to spend his life always darting into the coral like minnows

    scared at any shadow

    freaked by any sudden move

    then he said i wasnt born to be sold in some punk ass tank with the word bait written on it.

    that fish was getting deep.

    then he said

    what youve got to watch out for

    and then the billy goat ate em.

    to the girl who sent me the nice picture of herself because she had read that i was sad

    please move here.

    anti + the finest photo essay ever done by a sorority girl + a touching kitty bukakke + fussy

  6. me and karisa watched the miss usa 

    competition last night along with maternity ward and one day i’ll figure everything out and when i do i will tell you all about it.

    i had wine coolers left over her house from an 80s party she threw. we passed the whipped cream back and forth and with the fruity malt liquor it tasted like a delicous desert.

    the ladies were pushing and pushing. lots of them didnt take the epidermal. karisa shook her head in disbelief.

    one of the babies came out super tiny.

    lots of the babies had green grey gunk all over them.

    some were really big.

    i dipped my hand in the bag of taco bell and pulled out some chicken quesadilla and karisa switched over to vh1 where they were talking about celebrities who had their stomach stapled.

    jeanine used to do this to me. all this gross stuff. they seriously like it though. fascinated like.

    then came on tlc a thing on transsexuals.

    she curled up ready for the hour to start.

    her cat dug around in the box of kitty litter, looking for something, maybe its wedding ring. he scratched at it pretty good. drop a diamond in there, kitty, i asked it.

    it looked up and stared at me pissed off and frozen.

    i took a picture of it.

    it lasts longer.

    tomorrow night i will have dinner with a generous businesswoman who wants to make busblog tshirts.

    i told her that we should have a tshirt design contest and she said definately.

    send your designs to busblogshirt@tonypierce.com

  7. Monday, March 24, 2003

    yes, i get depressed sometimes. 

    not all the time. hardly ever any more. but i do. and today i was pretty depressed.

    just like most people sometimes i can think some pretty terrible thoughts when im bummed out. and fortunately those feelings dont last long.

    sometimes you cant see the light, you cant see the golden pot of gold at the end of the rainbow with the leprechaun napping next to it, all you can see is the rain, all you can see is the darkness.

    shadows.

    and just like a lot of people i have good friends, and some of the friends are really good and some of them are so good they say that they’ll drink wine with me and help me do my laundry and lie to me all the pretty little lies that help when youre feeling like shit.

    i do have the greatest friends.

    i know im not the vincent van gogh of bloggers, but i am crazy.

    ive got to be crazy if all these people say how great everything is on these pages, and yet i cant find a way to make a living at doing it when theres all these other people who wouldnt write good blogs if they tried who actually make good livings writing.

    im not a victim.

    i dont feel sorry for myself.

    for a good part of my adult life i have really respected the works of mr. charles bukowski, perhaps youve heard of him.

    besides being a very clear, simple writer, he lived a life of poverty for the majority of his life. but what is the best part of his writing for me, is he never complained about his lot in life. he would drink his wine and kiss the women and type on his typewriter and get overlooked day after day after month after year after decade.

    he never whined like a bitch, he never put a gun to his head on the stoop of his mansion in idaho, he didnt cut off his dumb dutch ear, he didnt trade arms for hostages. he just kept his head down and drove the lane.

    theres some big bodies in the lane right now, people, and the refs arent seeing things my way.

    which means maybe i am traveling a little.

    or throwing an elbow.

    or being dull.

    at a hundred and nine years old should i really be riding the bus to the xbi any more any way?

    this little experiment called lets see if you can pull hot chicks with no money no car no game can generate no better results than what the busblog has revealed. the answer is a unanimous yes, and all the analysis cant make it any different.

    but i am just getting older. and dumber. not funner.

    even my bosses boss said to me today that im not a young man any more.

    very famous person took me to lunch today and asked me if i would start off at the very bottom at a newspaper or magazine and i said yes right away and then i said yes again super fast.

    i say i dont want to work at kinkos but maybe thats what i have to do.

    is that what i have to do?

    i guess i could learn to bartend.

    or go back to directing.

    buffoonery + ham fisted theatrics + gawker + alabama

  8. to protest the war i went to a war protest 

    this one was interesting because it was right next door to the academy awards here in hollywood.

    interesting but not entirely fun because the cops were seriously on edge, which upset me because when was the last time a cop got hurt at a peace protest in hollywood?

    i think a lot of these coppers had watched a bunch of the war on tv and were amped up to be the long arm of the law because when the dude told them to run down the street, they hauled ass down the street. when one of them started jabbing their nightsticks *close* to the protesters, they all did.

    it was spooky.

    clearly the cops with their riot gear and their helmets and their, uh, guns, were no match for the hollywood hippies. i was wearing a cubs hat, my compadre had on a pleated skirt, and we were about the scariest people within miles. there was no reason for all the testosterone, ponch.

    at one point i was being pushed by a young cop.

    it was a very interesting dynamic because i havent been touched in that sort of a way by anyone, ever, who i wasnt allowed to push back.

    about twenty cops were sweeping about 10 punk rockers away from the precious corner of highland and sunset.

    ive got nothing to do with those guys, i told the cop.

    he said, doesnt matter, go that way. and i found myself in the middle of a moving square of cops. four in a row, five rows.

    it was like being in a marching band of silence.

    my date and i didnt look like punk rockers, but we didnt look like cops either. if you didnt know any better you’d have thought that the cops were helping us get through the crowd.

    when all we really wanted was a pepsi.

    anyhow. here it is now one fourteen a.m. and i dont get to wake up at noon tomorrow.

    infact i get to go back to work tomorrow and i should go in early because ive been gone a week and i normally have to read about 75 emails a day.

    i will miss you, vacation, you were great to me.

    i got to sleep, i got to write a bunch, i got to take a ton of pictures, i didnt have to shave, i got to kiss pretty girls, i got to stay up until it was light and sleep until i wanted to.

    i hung out with my friends, i ran a little, i worked out a little, i ate chinese food a bunch, i got to stand guard as a girl peed in the bushes of the rich, i even stopped thinking about work for a few days.

    enjoy the latest photo essay and be sure to tell me how much you loved it.

  9. Sunday, March 23, 2003

    guess who got a new camera! 

    i am officially in love.

    this thing is a beast. it does everything. it is the new version of the canon s40, it’s the s45. 4 megapixels, 11x zoom. it’s little. it has lots of menus and everything is fully controlable.

    finally i can bring to you photographs of my town: hollywood, california – since it hardly ever gets photographed.

    i bought the camera at the good guys across the street from the beverly center in beverly hills.

    this particular good guys used to be known for being the only 24 hour store in the chain, a favorite with celebrities who liked to endulge in late-night sprees when most of the city was asleep.

    the canon s45 was priced at $499, but the good guys had a weekend special where you got $50 off if you spent $500 or more. $450 is exactly what i wanted to spend. of course i got the 2 yr extend warranty ($69) and a 256mb flash card ($89), and now i am actively bidding on a replacement battery since after about 30 minutes my battery light turned on, probably due to my excessive zooming, etc.

    whatever, i love it.

    chris was there to pick it up with me after we had a nice lunch at pf changs. after she dropped me off at home, i charged the battery and hit the streets.

    the sun was setting and i was trying to decide where i would take pictures, and i remembered that some of my xbi buddies were at the kodak theatre for tomorrow’s academy awards.

    they let me behind the golden curtain and on what little red carpet was left and i snapped a bunch of pictures that i hope to have up for your collective asses tomorrow afternoon. {update: here is the photo essay}

    they asked me if i wanted to work the event tomorrow but i politely refused. tomorrow is my last day of vacation and it was a perfect vacation and i want to walk around the neighborhood and take more pictures tomorrow and chill out for just one more day.

    im sure someone will take pictures of the oscars for you.

    mc brown + rupaul + la examiner

  10. Friday, March 21, 2003

    i pulled my back doing the dumbest thing 

    i had brought the houseplants onto the stoop to let them have some sun and water, then right before clippergirl was about to arrive, i tried to one-handedly lift a big pot of ferns and snap there goes the back.

    when she arrived i was laid out on the couch all twisted like madonna on the cover of vanity fair.

    she said shes never kissed a man as old as me and i told her it wasnt her kisses i needed, it was some deep tissue massage, which of course she had to say something dirty in return.

    cheerleaders should have their own channel.

    i firmly believe that.

    right now we have the lets blow shit up channel every other click. in the morning you’d have cheerleader cartoons. one main cheerleader and her cheerleader friends would give tips on how to stretch and meditate and then they’d show cartoons till noon.

    then you have the midday news.

    two cheerleaders tell you the news while they make a delicious and nutritious lunch.

    then there would be an hour of gilligan’s island.

    then there would be my favorite show, Cheer Talk.

    whenever i watch the nfl cheerleader video calendars on espn, all they ever talk about is how smart all these women are. and i believe them.

    so lets have a nice roundtable talk show of four or five cheerleaders in their outfits talking about current events like the mclaughlin group, except have a live studio audience that asks questions of the ladies.

    only women would be allowed in the audience, i almost forgot.

    the show would be two hours long, then there would be an hour of CHIPS followed by What’s Happening and Fish.

    Then there would be a two hour newscast, sometimes entirely in a foreign language for the kids.

    This shit practically programs itself.

    There would be live auctions, friday night concerts, music video shows, pro beach volleyball, and consumer reports programs, all hosted by college and pro cheerleaders.

    I told my ideas to clipper girl as she massaged me and after about an hour i felt so much better that i couldnt believe it, so i flipped her over and returned the favor.

    till i got tired.

    kate sullivan + bored housewife + the ward + the oakland sun reporting on the sf peace rally