because im a zillion years old

ive seen almost every SNL

back in the old days it was originally called Saturday Night (which is why old Chevy Chase intros have him saying “Live from New York, it’s ‘Saturday Night'”.

although the skits were usually cutting and funny, i usually stayed tuned for the musical guests who were almost always great.

last Saturday Kanye West did something that hasnt been done in a very long time on SNL, he wowed the audience. he was creative and fascinating, and turned that bland small stage into something different and artistic and sexy.

not since David Bowie stood in a sarcophagus have i seen something so compelling in the musical spot that i rewound it over and over to take in its majesty.

often people ask me what i would love to do after i leave the Times (leave yr resumes in your computers, haters, i aint ever leaving) and i think id want to either be

1. the guy who sets up the schedules for major league baseball
2. the editor of Playboy
3. the guy who figures out who will be the musical guest of SNL

because there could be so much improvement in each of those roles, and i just may be the man to do the job. (after i am much much older.)

people may not realize but there was a daisy princess

who was critical to the early development of this site that you are now reading

the other day she got to meet one of her favorite people of all times

ms gwen stefani from the popular group no doubt

im very happy for her.

i wonder if she will take advantage of the live chat we are doing this afternoon with the celeb she named her lil daughter after, milla jovovich?

theres some things you simply cant make me do

and it makes me wonder, am i sometimes a royal prick?

sometimes i feel like im so nice and other times i think god was i born in the depths of hades itself?

like i’ll be at a bar minding my own business and some dude will look at me with a stupid look on his fat face and say something dumb and all will be great until he claps.

and that clap will just make me wanna fight him. and im not 18 years old, i might actually lose the fight. plus i dont really want to fight BUT I DO some nimrod will clap with that stupid look on his face and theres nothing more i wanna do but fight.

and his buddy is there staring too and clapping and it makes me wonder about automation

and reflexes. and jungian philosphies.

like are the spirits of hundreds of years of tony pierces inside my soul waiting to come out? did those spirits have to fight their way to the 21st century and there they are right on the edge, knowing something i dont know, seeing into the future, there to defend something that doesnt need to be protected but is totally willing to bust with the preemptive strike.

which is so unlike me because if you knew me youd know that all i want to do is wear funny clothes that have no business being coordinated a certain way, be tangled with a pretty girl on the couch and watch ridiculous tv until someone knocks on the door to deliver food.

and then i wanna go to a rock show in hopes that my mind will be blown.

last thing i wanna do is strike a stranger.

for clapping.

but i get insane when i watch football.