dear balls that painfully itch

im so sorry i shaved you.

please talk to me again.

please stop making every new hair feel like a tiny splinter being stuck into my… balls.

i dont know why i did it.

the girls didnt even ask me to.

not the canadian or irish or malaysian ones at least. they just lusted me for who i was.

as it should be.

which is why i did it, for them. because they Didnt ask.

it was the cuban who put the bug in my ear. and karisa didnt help either.

trim! theyd say.

or shave! theyd demand.

why do i listen to anyone who has their shirt still on? seriously.

isnt that rule number one in the bachelor bob rulebook of how to accept constructive criticism? never pay attention if the chick is fully clothed. duh.

i wanted to take you to see the format tonight at the avalon but you would have just complained.

yes this bikini zone is working. but im a healthy man. and a minister. what would it look like if i walked down the streets of hollywood scratching my package and yelping each step as a new stiff hair digs into my african american dream.

LAist nearly got a million hits last month. i just got off the best vacation ever. two of my writers just got picked up by the LA Times. prettiest girl ive ever seen on facebook today full on sent me an email from her workplace and the whole thing made me smile.

and the cubs are on a damn roll.

with you in agony, balls, you’re sorta ruining this magic week.

please get better soon and i promise i will take you to some cool places other than this couch in hollywood.

and i swear to you that i will never allow a razor anywhere near your general direction.

yours in rock,


Dear Hank Aaron

beating babe ruth i wish you were here in LA.

i know you dont wanna travel around and follow Barry Bonds as he breaks your record, but we all do things that we dont wanna do sometimes

and you know what, i hate that jackhole too.

and i know he doesnt deserve to break your record.

i know that the steroids helped him recover from injury faster and that armor that he wears on his elbow allows him to crowd the plate, and i know his penis is small and doesnt work any more probably

but youre hank aaron

you had a hammer.

and everyone knows that youre the home run king.

everyone knows that when you broke babe ruths record in 1974 you were threatened by racists and your life was ruined for years and you just couldnt wait for it to be over.

but you did it with class. you are class.

and no you dont owe anyone shit.

but maybe if you were sitting there in the special box next to the mayor of the town or tommy lasorda or someone and barry saw you there every night being classy and being hank aaron who started his career in the negro leagues with no aspirations to even get in to the major leagues because that sort of thinking was crazy

maybe barry would see how unworthy he is

and stop this nonsense one shy of the record.

the last thing he wants to do is see you there.

the last thing he wants to do is see that big fat old mans belly of yours filled with food that you worked for. sitting on a wallet that was never filled up with 8-digit contracts.

sitting on an ass that has never been juiced.

being in puerto rico is fine

but pete rose should be in the hall of fame

and hank aaron should be in the house when home run history is present.

your pal,


my mom worries about me.

its cute.

youd think after all these years shed stop being shocked or disgusted with my life, my alleged life as documented here, or the things that i say on the phone. but no. still easily amazed.

Hi Tony,

Are you home? Did you enjoy yourself?

Love, Mom

I realized i didnt call my mom immediately after deplaning. And I hadnt updated the busblog first thing in the morn. so she was worried. awww.

yes mom!
i had a great time!

i had 190 emails waiting for me to answer. but mom wanted to tell me a few more things.

Glad to hear you enjoyed yourself.

I read your blog a couple of days. I hope nothing in it is true else I will be very disappointed.


lets see, what could she be disappointed about? the sex the drugs the drinking the young women the car chases the international counterterrorism the lack of photos regarding flowers and art museums?


ahahahaha, ma.

the part about buying weed from the hells angels is true

but you shouldnt be disappointed because it was at an excellent price.

she called me as she was driving home from work. i didnt take notes but i believe she was concerned that i would be mistaken for a gigolo, she didn’t like the fact that in every picture i was holding a beer, and she really didnt like the fact that i was holding a beer while walking through a canadian park.

strangely the weed buying from the angel of hell didnt make her chuckle like it does for me, now, as i fondly reminisce. ha.

i explained to her that when Isla Vista is in the house, IV has to represent. has to. let all those other poseurs talk a good game about drinking and smoking and doing their thing – and watch them crumble when a pitcher is placed infront of them. and watch them fall when the lights get switched off in the hotel room and its just you against the world.

life is a series of yesses and no’s, the job of a good blogger is to paint a beautiful world and then watch as it comes true.

which creates more ouis.

the only people who should feel uncomfortable about this is the blogger’s mom and probably the parents of the young ladies swapping miniskirts.

the life of a blogger can be dull and palatable for parents

or it can be something worth documenting.

because i know that my mom will love me no matter what she reads on here i swear to you that i will continue to drink drug blog and sex you all under the table. and this trip totally recharged my batteries and i cant wait to get back to writing on here twice a day every day.

for example today i was looking for prom pictures for something im doing for LAist and i found this site that called me a douchebag. classic!

Hot Chicks with Douche Bags dot com