i dont need it rubbed in. and when youre old you do things, i dont know, logically?
so the hotties are coming out here and they think LA is just going to spread its legs for them. they think they can just bop out of the plane and the golden gate bridge is going to float down here from frisco and mickey mouse is going to toss rose petals at their feet
and brad pitt is going to get their bags at baggage claim
and the palm trees will part
and eight different colored convertibles will be waiting at the curb for them to choose from and then step into.
but LA isnt like that, oddly.
and LAX at night is a scary bad place that eats up tourists and shits them onto century blvd.
all i want is a plan from these girls. are they crashing at my pad or at “some dude’s”? and i want that plan before i rush home and clean my house, before i pick up miss montreal’s jaguar, before i drive to the other side of town in the middle of the night.
is that too much to ask?
apparently it is.
apparently im not the freewheeling bob dylan that they are.
apparently im oh-so-flagrant disregard who gets upset at pretty much everyone in her universe, and now i see why. and hopefully now everyone sees why i pretty much stay at my secret beachside getaway and hide in my closet and write and write and write and write.
because the outside world is on drugs and needs to just do their own thing.
ive said it over and over to myself: dont meet people who read your blog.
ive tried to fight that rule. ive tried to set up world tours that would keep me from my closet and allow me to shake hands with the planet.
god almighty am i glad that didnt happen.
and young girls are even worse. prettier they are crazier they are.
totally reminds me of shit my sister would have done back in the day.
no worries tony they tell me. just go with the flow they say.
heres the flow in south central LA, where, by the way, LAX resides: get off the plane, get your shit and speed away as fast as you possibly can to a pre-arranged locale THEN go with the LA flow.
i lived in south central so i can tell you first hand: theres a reason why nobody from N.W.A lives in the “hood” anymore. many reasons, as a matter of fact. 187 reasons.
all i wanted was a plan Before these well-intentioned hotties got on their crosscountry flights. all i wanted to know was where they were staying tonight. how they were going to get there. what they needed from me. what they expected. what they were doing tomorrow.
but no. i got nothing. i got, call you when we arrive. gotta pack. bye!
and whats up with packing minutes before the flight?
god im old.
here’s what i predict. i will meet the early one early. we will drink at a bar somewhere. the other will arrive hours and hours later. they will yell and scream and giggle and talk about how much they missed each other over the last 3-4 months that they havent seen each other.
some other dude sniffing around who is just as clueless will be all you girls can stay at my place. i will say GOOD! and they will be all, but no, we want to hang with you tony. there will be much debate. it will be 1:30am. we will be at LAX. my parking fee will be $1302894721034987. at 1:45a i will give in and the chicks and the weasly dude will decide to go to my place. they will stay up all night drinking my booze and popping my pills as i laugh at them, not getting a wink of sleep, which i dont need anyway cuz in real life im fucking insane.
they will wake up in their own barf come morning.
and the dude will be telling me that he cant believe he’s been partying with The tony pierce all night
i’ll ride the bus to work, arrive 10 minutes late and get written up and questioned about the liquor that appears to be on my breath
and i will want to say that most people wouldnta left two hot girls with their housekeys and hangovers on a friday, that most people woulda just called in sick, but instead i will say its the cough medicine i drank, so back off before they catch what i think i have.
but all i have is idiocy
disguised as openmindedness
wrapped in retardness.
because the only thing worse than not having a plan, is allowing drunk young girls to decide the plan in the wee hours. and fuck if im cleaning my fucking house.