nothing in here is true

  1. Wednesday, August 27, 2003

    i was depressed. 

    i felt like i had run a marathon and the end wasnt the end. they didnt have a silver jacket for me they didnt have roses there wasnt a finish line, all there was were television cameras and people saying, keep going, tossing water at me, pressing the buttons on their air horns, cheering, but not really for me, but for anyone.

    stupid marathon i said and kept it going.

    cursing each step, trying to convince myself that it was all wax on wax off everything meant progress everything meant practice and strength and endurance for the day that it would all have to come automatically because so much else would be getting thrown at you.

    at me, that is.

    she said is there anything i can do to make you feel better.


    do you want me to come over tonight.

    fella named kurt had rigged chopper one with aol instant messenger and she did this after she invited herself over


    i told her that i wanted to be alone in my misery while i’d practice my golf swing on a cliff over the pacific at the beach house and wishing i was like one of those stolen driving range balls that shot out across the horizon only to soar up for a sec and then peak and drop into the black water and sink sink sink into nowhere.

    she asked if i really wanted to be alone and i said i didnt care and then i got reckless and said

    get some garters, catholic skirt and some kfc

    and she said is that it and i knew something was up cuz she couldnt stand kfc

    want me to clean up your house, do your dishes?

    so depressed that that didnt even cheer me up.

    i pushed the throttle forward and the nose dipped down and i took aim upon the san fernando valley, operator error the reporters would say if they said anything, if there wasnt a car chase to show the people, please be a nice car chase.

    she picked him up at the 99 cent store, secret front for the xbi, fairfax division.

    now you know why theres two 99 cent stores within a block of each other on fairfax and wishire but lets keep this to ourselves.

    black bmw convertible. he hated beemers but he liked her, catholic girl skirt, heels, shoes.

    drove through kfc, held hands and listened to zeppelin as they wound their way to the hollywood hills and he muttered that he was a loser and she said did you tivo the cubs game

    and he did and she finished her meal and changed into a sexy top and taller heels and went down on him and demanded that he watch the game but his eyes closed and she said the game, watch it, and she went back to being so good

    nba cheerleader. total school night.

    cubs winning in st louis during the last week in august a game out of first place with good news somewhere in the horizon.

    so it wouldnt be today.

    and it might not be tomorrow.

    but youre still the man.

    so much so you cant keep your eyes open half the time anyway.

    maybe you just needed some wine she said and he took a sip and rearranged himself.

    maybe it was from giving blood.

    maybe it was from being dumb.

    but whatever it was from, it went back there and it left our hero focused on the present

    in a big way.

    some girl + jaime + chinomikan + aint no bad dude

  2. i havent made it through the wilderness. 

    i havent made it through anything.

    i made it through the morning, but just barely.

    i was up till 3:30am last night busting my hump putting together that photo essay and it doesnt seem like any of you kids liked it.

    oh well, karisa, i guess youre over the hill.

    just like me and madonna.

    guess we’ll all just have to hang out on the front porch in our rocking chairs drinking 40s and waving at the neighbors who walk by slowly with their hands behind their backs and nod in our direction.

    more country time, madonna?


    other day i was in a rocking chair with madonna and we were thinking of fun video games for adults.

    we wanted to make this one called Cat Fight.

    two hookers square off in a sort of Soul Calibur / Mortal Kombat game but instead of Kill moves with swords they’ll whip out a dildo or an electrocutable vibrator and super vibrate the girl in the private area.

    crazy bonus rounds that i feel guilty even thinking of right now, but that madonna sure has a dirty mind.

    ok, i’ll tell you this one.

    remember the game Tapper where you had to get beers to all these thirsty guys?

    ok, the hooker has to go to each guy in a chair and get them hard but when then take care of the others before they get too soft and walk away.

    keep everyone hard and you get a bonus.

    or a super power disguised as a fur coat or a spikey shoes.

    i know we’re dumb, but it was fun.

    uppity negro + sara k smith

  3. i almost died today. 

    dear prospective employers, i nearly died today.

    crazy lady busdriver ran not one but two red lights this morning blazing down wilshire.

    im not exactly sure what her rush was since there were two red busses ahead of her a few blocks and three behind her. we too were on a red bus. the Rapid. and apparently she was living up to the name.

    first red light was a yellow that turned red within plenty of time for her to stop, but no, she went through it without braking or speeding up at all. that made me think maybe she didnt see it.

    but then on the very next light, plain as day red, red thinking about turning green but not through thinking yet.

    lady didnt care, she finished doing the thinking for it and decided it was a green light. we went through that intersection and i was all, im gonna die.

    all day long i chase guys with guns, break down doors that could be boobie trapped, fist fight with guys who have spent most of their lives in jail, and still i hardly ever think im going to die.

    this morning i was sure someone was going to cross the intersection with their car and slam into our bus and send me careening head first through a pole in the bus and then people would publish this busblog into a book and it would be a best seller, and my mom would be proud, but the millions would be bittersweet. hopefully more sweet than bitter.

    please hire me before i end up tomato soup on the side of the road.

    i have so much love to give.

    when i was sixteen my buddy todd used to blow off stop signs.

    we lived in the sticks in illinois so you could see for miles that no cars or trucks or busses werent coming to the intersection and he wouldnt even slow down, he would just bust right through it. and when youre sixteen its sorta thrilling.

    in a stupid teenage midwestern bored out of our skull way.

    if i had died today at least i wouldnta had to do all the work i have to do. which is thankless. and miserable.

    if i had died today at least i wouldnta had to do my dishes which are piling up because my maid gave birth a month ago and i feel weird asking a momma to get away from her newborn to clean up my crappy casa.

    if i had died today i wouldnt have to watch any more of this ridiculous governer’s recall election thing. the same one that inspired my photo essay of a few weeks ago, which apparently is the biggest hit in sweden. if you look at my site meter, it seems that people are forwarding an email and in the email its saying something like, check out this photo essay.

    if any of you swedes are reading this and you got the email, post it in the comments or email it to me. translated, preferably, but im very curious whats in it thats bringing people here.

    hola, swedes.

    in other news, splinkgirl has put her blog on vacation, something that i would like to do at some point but this bus is flying down wilshire as fast as can be and nothing looks like its going to stop it any time soon.

    not even sudden death.

    dougie gyro + tiffany + coyote

  4. Tuesday, August 26, 2003

    i got to go to zancou 

    and hang out with my true love tonight.


    she looks better every day.

    told me today that officially she has a boyfriend.

    she was driving me home from the office.

    we were holding hands in her convertible, she had just given me ken laynes the analog bootlegs to which i told her that i loved her.

    palm trees zipped by above us as we drove north on wilton past slow drivers and barking dogs, and twisted through the nice houses and slowly over the huge dip at the intersection.

    of course i want her to be happy.

    im near her and all the days sins are washed away.

    i said does this mean i cant touch those lovely bazooms, which were happy you can tell, letting me know that they missed me, saying hi tony we’ll never forget you.


    she said yeah it means you cant.

    she smiled.

    we always smile.

    i started to tear up a little while i smiled.

    felt lame.

    she said oh baby and squeezed my hand.

    our hands were on her lap and she drove and i pointed and said so does this mean i cant touch the niceness.

    and i looked at the nice place with my fake xray vision and she laughed a hearty laugh cuz i smiled and i was sorta sad but happy but really tired from my job that gives me heartburn and bald patches

    and she said yeah no touching there

    she said its been two and a half years as if to say give up already but a salesman never listens to the first no

    or the million and first

    and i leaned close

    and she leaned close and i said softly

    what about the dirtiest of all areas

    there was a time when she would have gasped but that time is long gone she smiled looking at me and back at the traffic and held my hand tighter as we passed a store that hung all its saturday night mexican lady dance club outfits on plastic hangars against the chain fence of the abandoned lot next door

    and i didnt hear her say no

    did you

    katie hall + hoo-ha + bunnie

  5. today i feel like marilyn manson. 

    im groggy, im sickly, im tired, a wee bit hung over. dan and sara can drink. she does doubles of whiskey and dotes on her big lug and that makes me smile.

    i think i had about four five baileys and before that a tall thai beer. being with my friends you never know if the buzz that youre feeling is the booze or the msg or the love or the energy that is created. this morning i realized that i went mormon yesterday and didnt have any caffienne at all.

    some of the fellas started talking about blog babes and kristin from madpony came up and they asked me if i knew her and i said that we exchange emails from time to time but because she has a boyfriend i try not to distract her with my manliness. and they said that they approved of that behavoir. then went on about how hot she is and how much they liked her writing. she wont believe that we were talking about her in a smokey old bar in chinatown but we were and we were saying very nice things and not being gross and thats another reason i like my friends. all class. except of course, me.

    then sara asked me about raymi and i told her that i had indeed met her and her bodygaurd anti and i had nothing but love for both of them. and she asked me if she was pretty in real life and i said very, which is true. and i told them that if they missed raymis posts they should read antis.

    this morning i woke up early and skateboarded to the mcdonalds and got a bacon egg and cheese biscuit.

    then i ollied over a small dog that was prepared to poop and nearly wiped out but saved myself.

    i stole a la times from a newpaper dispensor and gave it to the grateful woman who had forgotten her plastic doodie bag and i tipped my cubs hat to her.

    got on the bus and it was crowded. thought a bunch of negative thoughts that i wont bore you with.

    read some more stories out of The Most Beautiful Woman in Town.

    hated the weirdo who stood in the rear exit of the bus next to his suitcase pretty much blocking that area, so much so that this woman didnt want to deal with it and walked all the way up to the front of the bus and got out.

    the weirdo had a neck brace on and i wanted to karate chop him in the neck, but im not into black on black crimes.

    last night we saw a high speed cop chase.

    there were five copters in the sky and i was jealous.

    they had triangulated the perp pretty well. only one guy following closely with the others spread out in a parallelogram pattern.

    caught the dude in glendale.

    got to work only a few minutes late.

    still havent had any caffiene.

    did i tell you i get to see my truest tonight.


    azarock + bettie girl + hosemonster

  6. yesterday it was gene simmons’ birthday, so i allowed three young girls to come over to my house. 

    the oldest was 21, the youngest was, well, it was gene simmons’ birthday so i just served them tea and tried to talk about religon.

    earlier in the evening my two favorite texans dan and sara came over since they were in town for the sunset junction street fair and auto show. we supped on fancy thai food in silver lake and then had boba drinks in chinatown. also in the party were my host, oswald t. huckenbacker, my attorney kim, teen hearthrob brendon w. maize, and the u.s marathon gold medalist kitty bukakke.

    a good time was had by all until we wandered over to hop lueys and started playing quarters with shots of makers mark.

    i do have the most wonderful friends and it is so nice to see them.

    64. dirty fez

    i wish i could remember the name of the thai place because it was good and it was very chic in there. quite LA. if you know where the pho place is on sunset near parkman, its the place that is called like ramamamamama.

    i had to try the tom kai gai cuz im obsessed but i think os ordered the best dish, a lamb curry that was spicy and rich and deeeelish.

    also of note was when the lollicup boba guy tracked us down at the bar to tell us that we should probably move our cars because we had parked in the Tour Bus Only spots and even though it was well past tour bus hours the creepy chinatown parking nazis would write us expensive tickets despite what it would do to their karma.

    we talked at length about our pal bonnie’s cross country excursion that is being frequently updated on our friend marc brown’s super hot Buzznet photo service that all the cool kids are using for free. it’s like friendster but so much better, and with pictures, and well, different.

    we discussed california politics, the state of blogging in america, and the fact that i dont get out much.

    when i arrived home, the young ladies were getting stuck in the mud next to my rose bushes trying to peer into my bedroom window! one more step to the left and the quicksand would have inhaled them and they would have entered an alternate universe of white slavery, but fortunately for them that they heard me say good bye as i was dropped off.

    because i have an early bedtime i showed them around the grounds, signed autographs and handed them each a bukowski book, several magazines for their ride home and a hit of acid for when they graduated college.

    trick or treat i said and passed out before they were past my steel gates.

    and today i get to see my true love and we will finally do some laundry which is good because all i have clean to wear is my leather batsuit.

    hottest sorority girl ive never met + shyest sorority girl ive never met + dirtiest fez ive never met

  7. Monday, August 25, 2003

    dear fragrant 

    thanks so much for the disco mix tape. i know i promised one for you in return but i flail. im so sorry.

    how are you??

    i did rock out to the sweet tunes, i love the wah wah and the blaxploitation classics that brought me back to yesteryear.

    i went past the wiltern this morning and can you believe it, people were lining up to see your boy dave at 8am!

    i promised myself that once i got my new camera i would take pictures of these people and put it on a site called firstinline.blogspot.com, but once again, my ideas never match up to my follow through. its sad. it really is.

    also, before i forget, thank you for the chocolate tort that you sent my mom. she thinks youre the best!

    how did you remember her birthday?

    oh you.

    im not entirely sure what im doing tomorrow night. tonight i definately have to do laundry. im down to my Iron Maiden Killers tshirt and my holey jeans.

    seriously i have no underwear thats clean, nor socks, so today i wore my swim trunks as underwear and flip flops.

    its quite a sight.

    anyhow, i would love to go with you tomorrow night to the show, but i think my old girlfriend wants to take me to the movies, but since you asked first, i will wait on your reply.

    how good are the seats?

    normally i would ask about backstage, but im so done with the backstage scene. although the celeb sighting would be interesting.

    ok, backstage?

    i suck. i know. god i want to get drunk too. last time i got drunk there and this girl i barely knew took advantage of me. it was pretty hot.

    last night i was pretty tipsy. walking around in the sunlight with crazy street fair madness happening will do that to you. plus i was mixing booze: sangria, dark beer, light beer, shots, back to the sangria.

    sometimes i wish you drank, but its good to know someone who can drive home.

    anyways, tell me about tomorrow. i havent even heard the cd. does he do covers live? oldies?

    does he take requests?

    id like to hear an erasure number.

    id give him $20 to do “chains of love.”

    hell, id give him $50 to do “lucky” by your girl britney who wont stop calling me. but i told her last week that i wasnt going to be second in line after that my so called life pretty boy. and she thought i was bluffing, but i dont bluff.

    give my best to the stalkers,


    floor pie + bing + gorilla mask

  8. i am in the greatest mood. 

    i think i know why but im not sure.

    even the slowness of the bus arriving this morning didnt bring me down.

    even the lady who wanted to rub her arm against my arm on the bus didnt bring me down.

    even the hundred emails waiting for me in my in box here at the xbi didnt bring me down.

    its gorgeous here in southern california.

    its so nice i want to write a letter.

    dear prospective employer,


    please hire me.

    tomorrow im going to have to get a bus pass for the month of september.

    please make it the last bus pass that i have to get this year.

    please hire me and take me away from all this.

    i swear to you. i SWEAR that i will work my ass off and do everything to make your company stronger and healthier and even more successful.

    lets make this the biggest win-win in the history of rock n roll.

    lets blaze a trail of happiness across this fine nation and make all the pretty girls wave their hands.

    lets do things the way they should be done. lets start now. lets start today.

    lets make a new covenant of truth and honesty and idealism and fun. lets show people that you can do things like this and make it easy and make it funky and be on time and deliver the goods and meet the demand and sign it and seal it and deal it.

    ive been waiting and waiting and waiting and i want to ask if i have to wait until christmas but i dont even want to think that because ive been waiting all summer, ive been waiting forever. ive been waiting weeks just to see whats going on and that wait is killing me.

    im giddy today for no reason. im happy today because im a happy camper. im satisfied from the beer and bratwurst and chicken on a stick. im satisfied because the ladies in the house squint when they see me and give me the benefit of the doubt and they call me and they come over and they make good on their whispers and say the nicest things when its over.

    i know what its like to sit in the minor leagues and tear it up in waukegan and iowa falls and modesto.

    call me up.

    lets start something historic and glorious and goundbreaking and nerdy.

    otherwise im just going to take all the good vibes in me right now and run as fast as i can across the world.

    your favorite crime fighter,


    midnight magicka + allison + kenneth cowan + blue cad

  9. Sunday, August 24, 2003

    i know a small percentage of people are jealous of me. 

    im used to it.

    i know that there are a handful of hecklers out there who either arent comfortable with my thousand readers a day, my dominance at the scrabble board, or my wicked crossover dribble.

    hecklers make me feel better.

    they remind me that im the man.

    they remind me that i am on the right path, that im doing exactly the right thing, that im typing the right way, that im saying what needs to be said.

    the sweet people remind me of those things too, but not like the haters.

    the sweet people make it all worth it.

    actually it’s worth it without any of the people, but the sweet people make it especially worth it.

    i remember all the things youve done for me.

    youve sent me on vacation, youve bought me gifts off my amazon wishlist.

    youve written me when i was down, youve written me when i was up.

    youve gotten me about $1,000 closer to a car.

    youve linked me on your blogs.

    some of you have even come over to my house and gotten nude for me.

    some were even women.

    none of that shit ever happened when i wrote this in a trapper keeper.

    magazines have interviewed me, ive been invited to speak in public, strangers say hello to me at the baja fresh. all cuz of this blog and how i write it.

    so you dont have to tell me how to do it, fakers.

    youre fakers cuz you fake at hating when all along you love.

    you cant wait for me to post again.

    thats love.

    i see you in the archives. soaking it all up. trying to hate, but cant. trying to lurk but having to say something. something dumb, but something.

    you think i like saying bad things about the president of my country?

    you think i like the fact that the son of a nazi is the favorite in the coup thats going on in the state that i live in? the most important state in the union?

    unlike many i dont sit in my many mansions and root for the republicans to keep fucking it all up.

    they just do it anyway.

    and if some want to identify themselves with the son of a nazi, or a son of a bush, thats their problem.

    i look at my elected officials the same way that i look at the batteries of my remote control – when they stop being effective, they get removed.

    the president, the congress, and the supreme court have not been effective.

    dont take it personally.

    dont be dumb.

    dumb is trying to show someone up in their comments, when that person writes three times a day.

    david didnt get goliath by kicking him in the leg.

    if you want to shut me up about politics, do it with facts and figures.

    show me how bush/cheeney have made the greatest country in the world even better.

    use charts.

    show me that im wrong about them bungling the economy, about how they lied about why they wanted to blow up iraq, and failed at finding the leaders of the evil doers, and that failure is costing us a billion a day.

    and dont try to pretend it was for humanitarian reasons. fakers.

    show me that they had nothing to do with the california energy crisis two summers ago, or the recent blackout on the east coast.

    or just admit it all and say, so what, my daddy voted republican and i’ll vote republican till i die.

    but dont tell me to go back to talking about the weather.

    even if its beautiful and a mild seventy three degrees here in hollywood at midnight with a gentle breeze coming from the west at about two miles per hour.

    cuz if you do, i’ll tell you to go back at doing what you do three times a day.

    velvet hammers + cry of capricorn + beets werkin