Tuesday, September 30, 2003
who can blame her.
i save the world, my team is in the playoffs, people comment on my blog.
on paper, im the man.
but youd think that a big star like gabrielle union would want someone more powerful than just a blogger, but maybe not. maybe shes bored with guys with lots of money and fancy clothes and perfumed handkerchiefs poking out of their suit coat pockets.
she obviously wants a guy who knows the difference from html 2.0 and 3.0, as most of the fly bitches desire these days.
gabrielle union wants to talk about cascading style sheets, but you know what, if i had a dime for every hollywood starlet who wanted to talk about design and structure as just a sly way to get into my wranglers then id have, shit, four five bucks by now. easy.
i dont know why we still hang out.
gabrielle and i.
youd think its cuz of the sex, but the sex isnt all that out of the ordinary.
and she doesnt like my place much, so we always have to go to her house. in the hills. and chill in the hot tub.
and she doesnt like sports
or late night nerf basketball challenges.
and she doesnt read much. not anything any good, just scripts and trashy novels.
im trying to get her into bukowski but she keeps saying, im not you, i dont like this junk.
she likes classy things.
like the way i talk in my sleep in french.
or the way i tease her
or the way i make toast and butter and jam when shes hung over
the secret is cutting the toast diagonally
i learnt that one from my true love
who i will see on saturday
early in the morning
pierce, i hear youre talking shit about me and spreading lies.
whats this shit about my mom not loving me and me being a fan of the red hot chili peppers? since when is that bad.
dumbass, i said that you were down with the clown.
the insane clown posse. i am telling people that you are into the rap metal stylings of the detroit white rappers who dress up in kiss makeup.
but thats so not even true.
so. SO? so what is wrong with you man.
aint nothing wrong with me man, im just writing up a little blog and trying to psyche out the braves.
and whats this crap about me losing a third of my games? ive only lost a fourth of my games.
details details. in your last six games, youve won three and lost two. youre on a downward spiral, trent, and the cubs are going to make mincemeat of you, mouse.
maybe you dont know the history going on here, tony, atlanta swept the Cubs in the 1998 playoffs, few teams have played the Cubs tougher than the Braves over the last decade. Atlanta is 49-35 against Chicago since 1994, and the Cubs haven’t won a season series since 2000.
all the cubs need to do is beat your sweaty ass tonight, mr big talker, and all that bullshit is flushed down the Okefenokee. and russ, you just started playing with the braves this year, so f the past.
f the past? fine, my Braves took three of four in early July against the cubs at wrigley.
big whoop, the cubs split a two-game series in atlanta in july, if they do the same today and tomorrow i bet you right now RIGHT NOW that they dont take no three of four at wrigley in rocktober.
tony, youre so deluded, the ex cub greg maddux is 11-3 against the Cubs, and a perfect 2-0 this year. my boy vinny castilla was 11-of-15 with two homers and 10 RBIs at wrigley. And we destroyed your goldenboy markey prior 9-5 in july 11. he allowed six runs, six hits and walked three in 4 2/3 innings. your cubs are toast.
always thinking about food, fat boy, arent you? cubs arent toast, theyre butter, as in everythings going to happen so smoothly. first your asses removed, just like it always happens in october, and then the gyros. and i bet you get a blister on your finger and dont even get through the first inning.
i hate you tony pierce. you make my feelings hurt.
im sorry russ ortiz.
just leave me alone.
but i dont care. its playoff time. the busses are late. the work is crazy, my dream girl isnt mine any more, the dream job is gone, the other job isnt even sniffing around, i havent gotten any in 2-3 business days, im not even certain that my tivo is ready.
but i dont care. today is showtime, today are the playoffs.
if i was a real blogger, id have bunting on the blog header instead of tsar, but theyre calling all the destroyers. buntings for closers. there will be bunting tomorrow.
got in early to work today so i can leave early and see the game. whalens coming over, os is coming over, if welch reads this, welch you should probably come over too. ive got some beer. ive got some pizza coupons, and lord knows ive got absinthe.
youd think id be more prepared but im not. this is all a beautiful dream to me. this is all going to the bar and saying the things you say to the ladies and one of them says ok. and youre all, what do you mean ok. and shes all, i mean ok. and your music isnt ready and theres not clean sheets and your condoms are buried underneath stacks of playboys and you fumble for them in the darkness and theres no candles and no whipped cream and no bacon and eggs for the morning, but its ok, just put your head down and do what you have to do.
and today what we have to do is knock mr russ ortiz whos full of cheese off the mound at turner.
russ ortiz the former giant, the guy who hurled 21 wins this year. the gemini from encino. the man who wasnt there. the ace of the braves vaunted pitching staff. the man who made maddux seem like an afterthought. the only pitcher in the playoffs who dusty baker singlehandedly turned into a superstar.
but russ ortiz lost seven games this year cubs fans. one third of his games he lost. keep remembering that. keep remembering that he gave up 100 walks this year. and hes fat. and hes ugly. and his momma dont like him cuz hes into the insane clown posse and he says hed vote for mclintock.
remember that russ ortiz has an eating disorder and he cheats on his taxes and his corns are leaky and his teeth arent ever clean.
remember that russ ortiz believes that women do not have the right to choose, and that hes afraid of sammy sosa and the cubs.
russ ortiz hasnt faced the cubs this year, cuz hes frightened. and he should be. the cubs are on fire. and the fire’s gonna burn like sherman through georgia and loop around and head to the frisco bay and everythings going to get real good when dusty faces his old team again.
but tonight dusty faces his old ace and his ace should be scared cuz of russ ortiz’s seven losses, three have been in the last two months.
sure he shut out montreal and florida in his last two outings that didnt mean nothing, but before that he gave up four runs and five walks against the marlins on september 13 and six runs off six hits against the lowly mets on september 3.
kerry wood on the other hand, who takes the mound for the red hot cubbies, hasnt given up six runs total over his last six games, sports fans.
infact since late august mr kerry wood has given up only 5 runs total over the last six games, and has 59 strikeouts.
he racked up 12 strikeouts in his last game over seven innings, and 11 in the game before that, a complete game shut out.
cubs are going to womp on the tomahawking braves and the busblog prediction is that it will be cubs 8, braves 0.
Monday, September 29, 2003
it would be doing jello shots with karisa in zuma until the marine layer burns off.
but since thats not possible since we both have real jobs that prevent us from actually living our lives, i will instead dream of where i might be if i wasnt here in chopper one flying over the haze and smog of hollywood wishing someone would tell me who to chase or kill or follow or fuck up.
today i wish i was back being an fbi test pilot. most testers dont actually fly all the planes, sometimes we have to test other things. gross things, like torture devices, like poisons, like quote unquote drugs, like esp techniques, like powers of manipulation.
you are getting sleepy, for example, very sleepy.
one of the things we tested a long long time ago was a device that would allow us to walk on water, very much like that pictured.
scary thing was it wasnt water that we tested it on, it was acidic liquid that had lots and lots of nasty chemicals in it.
and it was on fire.
and people were shooting at us.
needless to say we figured out how to do it, but it wasnt a bulletproof solution because that item sunk right away, poor merle.
supertsar7: im totally writing about you
karissssa: haha- what about?
supertsar7: how i wish i was doing body shots with you in zuma right now
supertsar7: i think youd want me to shave my chest and or belly before taking a body shot off me
karissssa: haha- i don’t mind chest hair.
supertsar7: you have just leapfrogged yourself as the coolest girl in america
karissssa: hahahahahahaha! yay!
for 275 yards against the minnesota vikings at soldier field. this was the view i had.
bears sucked so bad in 77 that walter didnt even score a touchdown that day and we barely won 10-3.
tonight soldier field will re-open and if i had had my shit together i would have had a nice full page picture of the newly renovated stadium on my main page, but when i drove past it last week it looked like a spaceship taking a dump in a roman toilet.
hopefully the bright lights and pretty cameras of abc’s monday night football will make it seem nicer.
and maybe brett favre will stub his toe and not feel like destroying the lowly bears.
needless to say i dont have the highest hopes for my hometown team and im not super thrilled with what they did to my favorite football stadium, but if theres one thing ive learned in my 109 years on this planet it’s that shit happens and when it involves the mayor of chicago its usually terrible shit that nobody would have ever have happened in a zillion years.
the inside of the stadium looks like the new arena in jacksonville. you know what, fuck jacksonville.
the outside of the stadium looks like a transformer and you know how i feel about transformers? i think theyre gay.
and i see lots of skyboxes for the richies who dont want to get brrrr cold as they watch the bears lose next to the frigid lake and you know what? f the richies and how dare they even come to soldier field unless they want to freeze their pampered asses off with the rest of us.
personally i hope godzilla comes out of the lake, takes a dump in this space age commode and then pulls the lever and the whole thing just swirls down into the depths below.
where it belongs.
right next to the guy who put lights up in wrigley.
a real one. just as real as any of the others.
i didnt go to school or anything like that but the good book doesnt say you have to go to school.
infact the good book doesnt say much about being a preacher. preachers pretty much preach and the people pretty much listen or dont. one reason i like the good book so much is cuz most of the people dont listen, and thats when the kookiness begins.
so yes im a preacher. and i take it very seriously. so seriously that i pretty much keep my mouth shut about it cuz if im wrong i would hate to be the one to lead people down the wrong path. im not sure i could do anything worse than giving someone the wrong spiritual advice. and since there are very few people who look at the bible the way that i do, it makes me very nervous to tell people the things that i think about it.
one of the duties, as you might know, that ministers have, is the power to perform marriage ceremonies.
in a little less than a month i will preform that duty with two of my very favorite people.
last night they brought over kfc and we went over the ceremony.
it was really really really nice.
i cant really tell you all the super nice things that we went over, and some of the suprises, cuz some of you will be at the wedding, but i can tell you that if this is what the pre-wedding meeting with the preacher is all about, im all about it.
thank you, friends, for allowing me to be such a big part of your very special day.
aftwerwards i laid my little head on my sofa and watched half of ghost world, which i really liked and then i fell into a deep deep peaceful sleep.
in that sleep i had a dream. a magical dream of swirly dark blue colors and shooting lights and twinkley stars and gaseous clouds.
i heard a telephone ring and i picked it up.
it appeared to be the soft cute sounds of a teenage princess. not the one from the previous entry, but one who i had met before. it sounded like my old pal ashley.
she said things to me and i said things back. she asked me questions and i answered them. but because it wasnt a dream, because it was really real life disguised as a dream i told her things that i probably wouldnt have told her in real life.
nothing that i was ashamed of, but things that i knew she would react to negatively and probably arent any of her business since she really has no business with me any more.
and i am a man of the cloth, but im also a cubs fan, and oddly enough, i havent had much of a relationship with ashley since before this major league baseball season started and look what happened: the cubs made it to the playoffs.
and theres pitchers who wont change their hats for good luck, and some who wont touch the foul line when they walk off the field, some who might not have any sex on game day, or some who eat chicken before each game.
well me and the young girl from vegas havent had much communication this baseball season and shes trying to get me to hang out with her and im starting to think that i should probably just keep doing whatever it is that ive been doing this year and not change a thing cuz the cubbies, im telling you, that pitching staff is good but theres no bullpen really.
and the rest of you cubs fans ought to think about what you did this year and dont change your shit up.
and of course i plead to you to continue to pray.
game one of the national league playoffs begins tomorrow when the cubs go down to georgia to face the braves in ted turner field.
Sunday, September 28, 2003
old princess be crying on her wedding day?
could she be bawling over the raiders and how sloppilly theyve played this year and especially today.
is she nervous about the mighty bravos and the sheff and javy and chipper and the professor.
do you think that shes depressed that she only has five percent of the likely voters pledged to her in the california governors race?
its a plus or minus three percent, i tell her, but she just keeps crying and fingering her garter belt.
teenage princess bride to bes are nothing if not fussy.
rock that outkast she whispers and i find the remote and play her song.
full of words that bounce right past us, could be calling for the revolution for all anyone knows but the melody is about beach parties and summer camp.
her dad doesnt care that she doesnt really know the boy five years her elder who do we really know he thinks and its true, who do we really know.
they tell her to go over there so she goes over there. they tell her to smile and she smiles and then she sees that the place is packed and she says fuck this in romanian and runs out like any sane twelve year old princess bride would.
white trail of freedom dancing right behind her.
still has some baby teeth.
but old enough to know
what forever means.
but since thats impossible, i guess i would be in the bleachers of wrigley field, and then in atlanta on tuesday and wednesday for the first two games of the playoffs.
good seats are still available.
do you think theres a newspaper or magazine or website crazy enough to let me travel around the world and write for them about it? i dont. might be a little too punk rock for most sensibilities.
plus, why should anyone buy the cow if the milk is free.
im giving this shit away in the gallon sized. photo essays, two or three posts a day. why would details want a reason for their readers to return to their site two three times a day.
im sure they have enough ad click thrus on their site.
why would the la times want to stop their steady decline through suckiness? everything theyve done on their website theyve done wrong, so why would they want to make a u-turn and get a blog?
why would anyone want a blog?
why would any big time company or magazine or newspaper want the headache that the sacramento bee is having right now by getting all those hits, and visitors and page views and ad clicks throughs.
for christmas im going to throw the bee a pity party and give their editorial board tshirts that say tired of sex.
crazy how people can make success a bad thing.
ow, youre getting champagne in my eye!
right now i would be driving half way from chicago to atlanta. i would be at a pro football game then i would take the instapundit to dinner in knoxville.
then i would be in georgia on monday and there would be a blogger party and i bet i wouldnt be the only cub fan in attendence.
if i could be anywhere or do anything thats what i would do.
and i bet the pictures would come out good too.