nothing in here is true

  1. Saturday, September 27, 2003

    i dont think most of you understand, 

    this thing isnt supposed to look like this, its not supposed to read like this, its not supposed to be like this. its supposed to be punk rock and edgy, arty and poetic, sexy and surreal, scary and hairy and all kinds of weird turned into weirder still.

    and all the fly ladies are supposed to throw their virtual panties while the cash money millionaires offer me better deals than the next.

    but i’ll take what is instead. which is this. and by this i mean the busblog writing something true and good and real and surreal and weird and wonderful and sexy and hopeful and ideal and rockin and beautiful.

    the cubs made it.

    today they slammed the door on the central and they said fuck houston, fuck st. louis, and fuck pittsburg with a doubleheader sweep.

    as if it werent a thing.

    theres two ways i could handle this. i could do what i did all year and try to play it cool, or i could write about the cubs every day like you know i should.

    after the game karisa invited me over to eat some of her homemade clam chowdah.

    it was pretty damn good.

    what the cubs did today they havent done in 14 years. that means some of the girls ive dated lately were 5 years old the last time my team was in the playoffs. my shit is so wrong.

    best part of karisas chowder was the bacon. nice little tasty morsals. how ya gonna beat that.

    for her sake i hope the redsox make it to the world series against the cubs.

    and i hope it gets to a seventh game, cuz everyone knows that the last four times the sox were in the world series they lost in the seventh game. but thats mean.

    wouldnt mind taking on the yankees either.

    but first its the might hotlanta braves. a team that took four out of six from the cubbies during the regular season.

    but you know what.

    fuck atlanta who always rolls over in rocktober anyway and then bring on the giants.

    the way wont be easy

    but it will be good.

    prior sosa


    and wood.

    bad dream theater + life with mikey + jason sutter

  2. face it, you’re falling in love with jessica simpson 

    we all are. she might be sometimes, but mtvs not dumb, they knew they had a gold mine in their hands.

    already made cash cows out of the mousekateers, now mtv has a mmc reject who might not dress as dirrty but sure can sing like a womoan.

    you think jessica would make a good blogger? i do.

    if she wanted i would be her ghost writer. but only if she never mentioned her husband. who doesnt love her. who really seems gay for most of his day until he goes to strip clubs.

    he just married his peice of ass wife and she complains, ive probably only seen you 5 days this whole month, and his response is, well whose fault is that?


    she married a gay man.

    it happens.

    liza did it. nicole did it. and anna just did it.

    why not? gay guys make great husbands. just look how pretty her house is.

    i got no problem with gay guys, i just wish theyd leave some of the hot ones for the rest of us.

    i always thought they could dance better though.

    i can dance as good as that dude.


    the cubs play a double header today and my directv was scaring me cuz its saying that neither of the games will be televised to my beach home.

    good thing i rented a car just incase this very situation came up.

    where is my pirated dss card when i need it, i asked myself.

    heres a question that jessica and i would discuss after we made love for the fourth time that morning.

    baby, is it stealing if it’s not even for sale?

    im sorry tony, what are you saying?

    well sweetheart, you know i would pay anything Anything to see this cubs doubleheader right now, right? cubs only have three games to play, theyre a half game in front of the astros, and if they win both of these games today then they are guaranteed to at least be tied for first place in the nl central.

    yes, i know youd pay anything to see that on our tv as we make more love, yes…?

    well directv isnt showing it on the baseball package that i paid $175 for. it’s not on the channel owned by the newpaper that owns the cubs, wgn. it’s not on the total sports network, espn. and its not on the west coast fox channel because theyre showing the braves game. so my question is: is it stealing if i used the pirated dss card to decode the local fox channel if i cant buy it on my directv?

    is it for sale?


    is it priceless?

    hmmm. sorta, but people in chicago get to pay for it.

    then no, it’s not stealing, cuz theyre being mean about who gets to see it.

    i love you baby.

    i love you tony.

    and then we’d order pizza and get cleaned up to go to a sports bar for game two of the twin bill since the braves game got preempted cuz someone at fox removed their heads from their asses and are showing not just the cubs, but the second place astros on the split screen

    if only one of the television broadcast geniuses figured out how to show game two of the doubleheader i wouldnt have to get out of my pajamas today.

    and my girlfriend jessica simpson could have her way with me for a few more hours.

    but life isnt fair.

    and the only true geniuses are the ones over at mtv.

    and whoever invented the gillette mach three.

    damn thats a close shave.

    geoff sucks + the II stacks + bunnie

  3. Friday, September 26, 2003
  4. im glad im older. 

    ive learned a lot of things in my 109 years. ive just started to learn not to take things personally. that was a tough one. i still do sometimes like when semi-super models pull down my sweatpants and then point and laugh and try to stop themselves but then errupt into uncontrollable laughter as they put their tight sweaters back on and laugh right out the door.

    ive learned to be more patient. but not all that much. i guess thats the one i need the most help with because life is fragile and time flies and between my reckless bus drivers and my penchant for greasy foods, my days walking this crust are few and far between and while im here i wouldnt mind meeting more people and spreading good will towards men and better will towards women.

    speaking of which, last night at the tsar show, a very nice young woman introduced herself to me right in the middle of tsar rocking out. she said, hi, i read your blog all the time. i smiled and said, wow. thanks! then she told me that she had just moved out to LA and i clinked glasses with her but the magic of my favorite band was luring me away from any conversations, sweet as they might be.

    anyway, nice young lady, thank you for saying hi to me, im sorry i didnt see you after the set, but i looked for you and then was rushed out the side door to my waiting limo. say hi to me at the next tsar show and i will be sure to buy you a welcome-to-hollywood shot of booze.

    where was i? oh yes. major disappointments. i mean lessons. ive learned a lot of lessons over the centuries and one of them is how to deal with disappointments and failures. the hippies may scoff at sports, but if sports teach one thing it’s how to handle defeat.

    some blow their stack and make a big sloppy mess after they dont get what they were shooting for, but nobody likes those people and that sort of energy rarely helps you win the next time. me, i prefer to shake hands with everyone afterwards and buy a round of drinks.

    when i was younger i might have held a grudge or decided, ever idealistically, that if someone said no to me once that i wouldnt want anything to do with them ever again because they obviously didnt “get” me. ive learned over time that you should never burn a bridge unless its a terrible bridge that might already be on fire. and seriously, how many bridges have you seen lately that are on fire? outside of iraq, not very many.

    what else have i learned over the years? always bet on black. never send a woman flowers unless shes your mother. and wear condoms every, single, time.

    ive also learned that grammar and spelling are over-rated. always ask for exactly what you want. be super polite at all times. pray every day. be grateful for everything because in an instant it can go away. if some lame ass wants to blog war you, state your case, dont link them, and then move on.

    and by all means, never bore your readers. ever.

    reward people for reading your shit, and if you cant do it with your words, do it with your links.

    my second favorite shirt on my favorite redsox fan + sk smith + popie

  5. tsar came down from the heavens last night in eastern hollywood 

    tsar live to deliver the good news and layeth the smackdown and they cranked their shit to eleven and pretty much busted the eardrums of anyone within the first fifty rows and i just stood there like heston infront of the burning bush turning grey overnight and i have seen the light and its letters flash t s a r, for the big bad wolf is knocking at your door modern rock alternative radio and he has dyed his hair shit brown and hes coming for whats his and you better give it up or he’ll spin that fckr to twelve.

    opening up for the epoxies and the starlight vocal band, tsar did rock and roll a favor last night by being the last minute replacements and sacrificing their good names by accepting the 9:30p chump openers role. didnt matter, they still blew the lights out. they still kicked ass and took names. they still passed the dutchee on the left hand side, wild eyed and crazy like maidens eddie, they still gave us our what for, they still didnt ask for an encore and were pleaded to give one but refused cuz theyre punk rock and powerful and tight like a youknowwhat and meaty like a hamhat.

    defying all possible sensibilities and laws of gravity, tsar blasted through their newest material so as to beat it into our collective unconsiousness, hardly taking a break to chew ones curd, the brunette lead singer songwriter flopped around the stage cocksure and righteous pissed at the world for what it hadnt done for it and poised to take what is owed to them so lock up the lockers and lay down the liars cuz justice isnt blind, its bitter and it has a message from another time and it wont be brought to you by budweiser.

    despite talking hella shit about weezer back in the day, tsar apparently got hollywood records (disney) to break open the marketing department vault and spend a little money (little being the key word) on some weezer-esque lights (pictured) which may or may not have blown out the stage lights of the sparse spaceland stage and which may or may not have been made on the floor of the tsar practice room with construction paper, spraypaint, and ninety nine cent store lightbulbs.

    long live the mouse.

    and my ears are still ringing and its almost lunch time. and my hearts still exploding and its months till the cd drops. and if you dont see these masters of the the midway within these next six weeks in hollywood as they get their shit together before going on their world tour then you really dont love rock music. its time to stare into the sun, friends. and this is the music you’ll melt to.

    sea of angels + van mega + splinkie

  6. theres lots of ghosts in this machine. 

    lots of creepy crawly spirits and spooks haunting every line in this woven tale. and today is the birthday of one of our favorites. mr. ken basart.

    os runs the backbone, the ladies inspire the heart, and ken tidies up the huge glaring fuckups left behind from the parade of elephants.

    im a lazy writer. on kens birthday i wouldnt soil his good name with lies. im lazy as it gets.

    im also not a fan of myself, so i barely re-read what i write unless i get in an extremely narcisitic mood, which isn’t often. so its good to have a fresh, unspoiled mind, educated in what doesn’t suck, to waltz in after the major work is finished and smooth out the rough edges. and that’s where basart earns his keep.

    and the price is right.

    when basart asked for the job i inquired his rate and he told me that he wanted to make whatever magic johnson got in his last laker deal, so i set him up with a 25 million dollar contract over 25 years.

    to play point guard for the lakers.

    since editing the busblog doesn’t pay shit.

    i first met ken basart outside a seven eleven on haight street when he asked me for spare change and i stepped on his birkenstock.

    a huge fan of old school hip hop, basart not only can recite most of the def jam catalogue circa 1985, but will, endlessly, especially if a tumbler of whiskey is in his hand. so be careful.

    devastated when jam master jay passed away recently, ken turned over a new leaf and began volunteering on skid row in los angeles’s historic downtown district.

    a master at trivia, you may have seen ken on the comedy central game show win ben stiens money where he not only shook down the famous character actor, but beat his ass in the greenroom and stole the hosts bow tie.

    even though he’s one of my closest friends, i have no idea where he lives.

    although i understand its less than a mile from where i reside.

    so lets take this moment to wish a happy 67th birthday to my close personal friend and organizer of the now-infamous coulter klassic bachelor party and theme park, my pal, ken basart, managing editor of the busblog.

    coulter klassic + drunks + ken writes about ken

  7. Thursday, September 25, 2003

    sammy sosa hit two home runs tonight but it was two too few 

    as the cubs fell to the reds 7-9 dropping them out of sole possession of first place in the national league central and into a dead heat with the houston astros with three games left to play in the season.

    all in the friendly confines of wrigley field.

    against the lowly pirates from pittsburg.

    so im not worried.

    just waiting.

    houston cant keep winning every damn game, and if they do, good for them.

    this is a three game horse race now. a sprint. a fuck you i aint losin any more games. every game is everything. and it will be mine in time.

    cubs lost tonight to a terrible reds team but they lost after scoring seven runs from eleven hits. i can be ok with that because the pitching will never be that bad again.

    tonight dusty baker is saying this is the bottom of the barrel. this is rock bottom gentlemen, this is as low as it will ever get. for if we get this low again in the next three days, then we’re out.

    this close to going to the dance with the pretty girl.

    who wants to go to the dance.

    right over here you have mr sammy sosa. seems to me that mr sosa wants to go to the pretty girl dance. i just need one more person to want it as bad as mr sosa and we can all go. three days is all i need from you. lets do this for our buddy sammy sosa.

    and the cub fans of chicago who will all lose their minds simultaneously spontaneously and internationally.

    some of you have never and will never get this close to that bling and despite what mr steinbrenner believes this bling isnt sold in stores.

    you have the chance to become part of not only world series history but major league baseball history, the cubs team that could. three days of rock n roll. three days of focus. three days of meditation and prayer. and three days that you will only experience winning.

    thank you for your efforts today.

    see you motherfuckers at wrigley.

    solo + the faith fools + another friend of the busblog who’s a blog of note: ultrablognetic

  8. did i tell you that tsar is playing tonight? 

    yes. they are.

    at spaceland.

    their home.

    because they love survivor, they will come on immediately after the show. which is 9pm for you heathens.

    heres what the local paper said about our boys in the Calendar Weekend sextion.

    page E23:

    Eddie Van Halen was among the stars who turned out to see the Darkness perform at the Roxy Monday… Speaking of arena rock, L.A.’s own thundering qartet, Tsar, will be ripping it up at Spaceland tonight…

    I’d like to link you to the online version of the paper but the LA Times seems intent on shooting themselves in the foot and making their journalism only available on the Internet for free to 7-day subscribers. which makes so much sense because 7-day subscribers… never mind.

    fuck the la times.

    la times: fuck you.

    there was some sort of brew ha ha about the Sacramento Bee and a blog they had that suddenly started getting edited because … whatever.

    people wanted me to comment on it but fuck the la times, and fuck sacramento.

    i like the Bee but fuck them.

    sacramento is just a place the lakers play on their way to winning the championship.

    and thats all it will ever bee.

    during the hub bub the idea that real journalists love being edited and fake journalists hate being edited. welch called bs on it and i do too.

    with that said, heres an email from my editor that i thought you’d like to see.

    i use an editor because i have a good friend who reads what i write way more carefully than i do, and he works for cheap, and cuz im lazy and sloppy. not because im a real journalist or even for that matter a real blogger.

    i like having a second pair of eyes but even with a dozen extra pair of eyes youre still going to end up with Dewey Defeats Truman or fatty fatty two by four, so whatever.

    To: Tony Pierce

    Subject: edit

    Tone, please spell everything correctly tomorrow because I am off to NYC for my b-day and won’t be able to edit all weekend.

    My birthday wish?

    That you remember how to spell Mark Prior’s name, the word “tongue”, and the word “definitely”.


    P.S. Got a ticket to Radiohead so won’t be at Tsar show tonight.

    amako + zero 79 + socially retarded