every designer in the world

has written me to offer to dress my new swedish virgin girlfriend. and it’s appreciated but they send these super sexy sultry colorfully sassy lovely things but my girl is a born again who has never worn a skirt above her knee ever.

and might not ever.

and i laugh when that tries to sink in because things like that shouldnt sink in which is why i laugh em right back out.

so pure she jumps when i rest my hand on her thigh, pushes it away to the knee, and smirks when i try to convince her that the thigh is where a mans hand should be when hes driving with his girlfriend.

has the cutest little cold sore on account of her lack of sleep. poor angel has been working her tail off at the nine-to-five and then filling sandbags at the ymca at night for the flood victims. angel i tell you. so because of the cold sore she doesnt want to kiss. so i kiss the corner of her mouth and try to sneak a tounge in there but no go. now and then she’ll sneak one out but thats it. its cute though and when you do get a little tounge action it feels ten times better cuz you dont expect it.

makes you wanna say, baby if youre saying that cold sore is contagious, im saying i dont care. im saying rub your lip across my back and spell out your name cuz i want even the man on the moon to know the truth.

and she giggles which is very nice.

i quieted that giggle tonight when i reminded her that not so deep inside of me is a darkness cute little swedish girls probably shouldnt mix themselves in with. for im 111 yrs old and thats not dog years whos been around the block a few times and on top of that really truly does work for the xbi so has not only seen everything but has made some of that shit happen including some shit that didnt wanna happen but did happen. but she doesnt flinch and its not all cuz of ignorance, shes just never flinched.

infact tonight we were parked in the lot of the ninety nine cents store on sunset in a strip mall that once housed a strip club called tulips. i was all, get it? get it? and she gets it. and we were in that car talking and a woman stood outside our window waiting for us to get out so she could spare change us but we just stayed in the car talking. stayed in there so long the woman eventually collected about $46 and went home.

talked about all of our favorite things – the good book, television, los angeles. no flinching. except when she said, i always feel so comfortable with you tony. and i said yeah? and put my hand on her thigh.

and tomorrow night she will see her first tsar concert at the El Cid on sunset in silverlake, which will be their first show on TVT Records, so dont be suprised if they put on an inspired set for their new label. special guests the ettes.

Cub Fans Will Eat Bartman’s Ball

from today’s Los Angeles Times

CHICAGO — The foul ball that unraveled the Cubs’ chance for a World Series appearance and left fans steaming is now simmering in a red spaghetti sauce.

Harry Caray’s Restaurant Group last year bought and destroyed the infamous “Bartman” ball, an object that to superstitious Cub fans became the ultimate symbol of bad luck.

Now a restaurant is using the ball’s shredded remains as an ingredient in its “Foul Ball” spaghetti. Since the dish was unveiled Monday, about 1,000 people have paid $11.95 to sample it. Proceeds are going to the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation.

Cubs faithful from Fargo, N.D., have driven more than 600 miles to taste it. Fans from England and Italy have asked the restaurant to ship them the pungent sauce.

“The start of baseball season is coming. We have to do something to prepare,” said Grant DePorter, the managing partner of Harry Caray’s restaurant, founded by and named after the late Cubs announcer.

During the 2003 National League championship series, Steve Bartman — a loyal Cub fan — inadvertently knocked the ball out of left fielder Moises Alou’s reach. The Cubs were leading the Florida Marlins 3-0 — just five outs from a trip to the World Series. The Marlins rallied to win Game 6 and took Game 7 to advance to the World Series — where the Cubs haven’t been since 1945.

The Bartman ball was blown apart last February, reduced to a pile of shredded wool, twine, leather and rubber. But its destruction failed to bring about the much-hoped-for result — a World Series berth last year — which led tens of thousands of fans to e-mail or call DePorter.

They begged for one thing: Finish the job.

“We went through all the messages, and there were three common pleas,” DePorter said.

Drown the remains in beer. Pierce them with a laser beam. Eat them.

DePorter decided to do all three — just in case.

Last week, the restaurant assembled a team of local advisors that included a chemistry expert from Northwestern University, a registered dietitian from Thorek Hospital and a staff member from a food-testing laboratory.

They had to figure out a way to blend the ball’s remains into something that would be safe to eat.

“Once all the leather and the rubber were removed, we were left with natural fibers,” said Krista Wennerstrom, director of nutrition for Thorek Hospital and a “serious” Cub fan. The fibers were tossed into a big container of beer seasoned with rosemary, thyme, oregano and bay leaves.

“We boiled it, then it went through a distilling and purifying process,” Wennerstrom said.

The result was nearly a gallon of a clear, pungent liquid — which was zapped with low-powered laser beams. Finally, it was blended with the restaurant’s regular marinara recipe.

“The flavor’s a bit on the smoky side,” said Paul Katz, the restaurant’s executive chef.

The city’s health department gave the all-clear after making sure “there would be no actual horsehide or rubber bits in the sauce,” spokesman Tim Hadac said.

Cub fans John Perrone and his 20-year-old son, Jeff, drove from northwest Indiana Wednesday to sample the sauce. As they dabbed up the last bits with bread, they said they hoped it would help end the team’s bad luck.

“It’s ridiculous. But I thought, if it’ll help, what do I have to lose?” said Perrone, 48. “It was pretty good. It didn’t taste like rawhide at all.”

Katz’s recipe calls for 4 ounces of the ball-flavored juice to every 8 gallons of marinara sauce. Since Monday, he’s used about one-fourth of the “Foul Ball” liquid.

“It has to be gone before the first tickets go on sale” Friday, DePorter said. “We’ll start adding more to the sauce.”

baron davis goes to golden state + chris webber traded to 76ers + Nazr goes to the Spurs

shes so cute america.

im surrounded by cute girls but she may take the cake.

still its hard for me not to talk about the most disgusting things while we’re having a romantic italian dinner while sipping on house wine.

she says she read my post about porn and she says that porn grosses her out more than anything in the world and i say thats interesting because if i hadnt found the Lord i would have definately been the worlds greatest porno director.

the owner/waiter dude was dressed so well, he gives everyone a free “taste” of wine as a greeting cuz the place is so damn classy. im going to unload my whole bankroll on this girl before the dentist takes it but it doesnt matter. there were little spoiled kids of the rich running around because their parents dont know how to talk with them when the mexican nanny isnt around.

i say i would come out with a new porn each month. and each month it would be of a different genre. one month a western. a real western. saloon fights, a washed up sherrif, a whore house avec madame, indians who want to invade, rum runners, everything.

the next month i would come out with a real 75 nurse orgy, where yes there would be 75 nurses in a heap during the spectacular thirty minute finale. all nurse conventions end this way, dont they?

the next month would feature a spoof on the brady bunch. they werent really brothers and sisters anyway, plus, well, lets just say the phrase “mom always said, dont ball in the house” will get used.

she plays with her spinach salad not at all impressed by my stream of conscious brilliance and i remember that she meant it when she said that porn disgusts her even though shes never seen one frame of it ever.

i explain that in a normal porn, if theres a movie called the Pizza Boy, when the dude shows up and the daisy duke wearing co-ed cant seem to find her purse, they get it on. but in a busblog production when they got it on it would be ridiculously well lit and they would suddenly have totally combed hair and pirate costumes and everything would be in slow motion, they would defy gravity, midgets would peek out from the closets and psycedelic trails would emerge from their limbs to symbolize that it was all a dream.

shes still not convinced and i tell her, i’ll put together a scene for you one day cuz its sorta hard to conceive over dinner.

she says you do that and orders up some more bread.

so cute america and not at all the future her parents would have wished for her.

little did i know but ten minutes later my anestetia would wear off and the rattling that the dentist gave to my head would turn into the most wicked headache that ive ever had, and even though paul westerbergs label put me on the guest list, plus one, i wouldnt be able to even stand being in a coffee bean parking lot, let alone endure the throbbing PA from the cozy rock club.

so at 9pm we called it a night after i downed three advil and watched Lost.

at midnight i awoke refreshed and ready to rock

and grateful for the man or woman who invented drugs.

cuz sometimes they work.

and even though LA has looked so bleh lately, this morning it was back to being my lady.

vivian + elgin roots + whitey + after the debauchery