because ive got obamacare, im gonna get a therapist

apparently thats what youre supposed to do. talk to someone about your problems.

but i was raised at a time and place where you just fix your problems

and even if you have a great support system around you and legal weed

you shouldn’t really ask for help even if you need it.

also, a lot of time i dont know what help i need other than stop being lazy.

i have blogged here, on medium, and for this company that pays me to do it occasionally

but i know how much im capable of and i know how little i do.

ppl are like, dude you do a lot.

but thats in comparison to others.

never compare yrself to others.

so if i had a therapist i would ask her why my first crush was a tomboy who ended up being a lesbian?

is this why a lot of tween girls love boy bands and kpop dudes?

and i swear if i get a therapist whose all, well what do you think? im gonna fire her because i want a conversation. i want a real one. no holds barred. no ones feelings get hurt. no one needs to worry, just talk.

pretty sure jodie foster was the first picture of a girl i ever put on my wall.

she is still someone id be super nervous to meet if i ever got the chance.

she is a scorpio.

had some very nice conversations this week

and took some long walks.

and did a lot of work.

and found some money. lets talk about that.

last month i hit rock bottom because i wasnt getting any unemployment, all of my little jobs had dried up, all the places i was TOTALLY FUCKING QUALIFIED FOR LIKE OMG told me to fuck off and die, and i hadn’t even gotten my stimulus check #2 which was supposed to come in January.

the walls had closed in, i sent an SOS to the world and the world said here you go

and for that i will be forever grateful.

for a year for some reason the apartment above me has been vacant. it needs a lot of renovations and maybe the owner of this joint didnt have the cash, but youd have thought PPP loans or what have you, or the fact that all of us pay on time, and that they have lots of buildings would mean they’d have had the cash to fix it up and start renting it again But Nope.

and it’s fine. who needs someone clomping around upstairs on hardwood being loud when im down here crying in my mexicokes?

earlier this week i was awakened with loud terrible noises. the workers had returned and were pulling up everything, bashing in things. the cats scurried under the couch and my beauty sleep was interrupted for a good half hour until i said dude i lived in Isla Vista for four years, ya gonna have to do better than that.

when i woke up again i went out to get the paper and noticed that they had gathered a years worth of the junk mail that had accumulated on her side of the mail slot… and placed it in my ficus plant so they could have room to demolish shit.

my little eye spied my name. or something like it.

it said Anthony III

and it had the wrong address on it.

then I saw another letter like that too.

junk mail over the years has gotten better and better at tricking you into opening it. sometimes it will look like a check. sometimes it will feel like a credit card

but when i opened this up IT WAS A DEBIT CARD

in fact it was the Stimmy from January that I couldn’t hunt down via the IRS website because for some reason Trump thought my name was Anthony III

like George the Third or some shit.

And for months $600 was literally feet away from me. just laying there. saying tony save me. tony my love. my sweet bald fat man. im right here.

and how crazy that these workers didnt just throw it all away? they know she hasnt lived there for a year. but they did the right thing: they tossed it into my fauna.

they released the cashen.

and today when i went to the taco truck and splurged on a $7 burrito with extra cheese and sour cream, i handed her the plastic and she said

cash only senior.

and i laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed.

the drummer of lone justice died today

in 1985 i was too young to get into the Long Beach club Bogarts where Lone Justice was to play on a particular Friday night.

i was working at a record store in West LA because my life has been blessed in many ways.

one of those blessings was one Willie Aron who advised me to just come really early and help the band in with their equipment and they could call me a roadie.

the only catch is i would have to hang out in the club all night and wait for them to come on.

time flew. as it does with a 19 year old at a rock club in the mid 1980s when rock had not yet died and still had a good 20 years left in the tank.

the band was soulful and powerful and the singer was mesmerizing and the entire night was worth all of it.

today every single mention of the band’s drummer Don Heffington was beautiful and positive.

heres some of what the singer of the band, maria wrote

He was not only a legendary drummer (Tom Waits, Bob Dylan, Lowell George, Van Dyke Parks, Victoria Williams, Lucinda Williams, Emmylou Harris) but a fascinating guy with a unique mind and sense of humor and a beautiful heart full of pure love. His solo projects were next level high lonesome perfection. He was a beloved Dad and Grandpa and the only original member of Lone Justice I never had any drama with. Which is meaningful. I love you so, so much Heff. Remember when we saw the Velvet Underground in Berlin? Best night ever.

i used to think, i better do something kickass before i die so everyone can talk about that when theyre about to bury me

but now i strive to be remembered the way Don Heffington is being known for tonight: being nice.

i finished my thing about Coke today

and now im having a rabbi look it over and give me his blessing.

i could write about coke and religion all day.

in fact i did for two weeks and it was fascinating and heartbreaking and frustrating.

true story: last night i was getting sleepy and went to the fridge to get a Mexicoke. upon realizing i was out, i thought of ways to get one in the wee hours.

if the grocery store was closed perhaps get overcharged at a 7-11?

since i dont drink coffee, it’s pretty much the only way i stay awake.

then i realized i have like 3, 2-liter bottles of kosher coke, which is what my story is about.

they are warm but i dont care. i opened one up, poured myself a cup in one of ambers many unused coffee cups.

and it did the trick.

i am really hoping this story will do well tomorrow. i even asked my old boss if he would give it a good headline.

broke out of my writers block because of Rob

he was all, what are you writing? i said this thing about kosher food.

he said im a jew!

i said get outta dodge

he said already did and im still a jew.

i was all perfect.

then he said the magic words. he said i look forward to reading what you have to write about my people

i said you would?

and thats it. because i finally had someone to write to, i was back on track.

the big problem is, in order to not give a shit what people think, i often convince myself that absolutely no one is going to read it.

and sometimes im too good at convincing myself that, so my brain is like, whats the use of writing this thing if no ones gonna read it?

so now imma write it for rob, a solid man, a long time friend who ive known since he was a teenager.

i even went to his wedding.

theres a lot of asian hate going on rn and i dont get it

and i dont even know what to do about it.

Sass is getting mad on her social media that “allies” aren’t speaking out, but i dont know how i can help the cause. but i want to.

so i will tell you about the first asian girl i ever fell in love with.

her name was Ae and we met in Switzerland.

a girl i met on a bus in Iowa, Risë, and I had become pen pals. She did a year abroad and invited me to visit her. i was just about to turn 21 and had nothing better to do so i said hell yes. this was so long ago they didnt even have color film.

as soon as i met Ae, Rise’s roommate, it was love at first sight. she was so smart and so sarcastic and funny and because she established immediately that she had a boyfriend, for some reason the tension only got hotter and hotter bc there was nothing we could do about the fact that we were both madly in love with each other.

which is what i told myself. but who knows.

her french was amazing, actually both of theirs was, and we took a train to Paris and spent 5 days there. i was the butt of eveyrones jokes because i was ridiculous and my french was so bad. but i tried. and as i tried everyone laughed and laughed. then we went to lyon. or did we do the opposite. who knows. Ae was incredible.

she was the first stranger i connected with immediately and it never unlocked.

so much so that when we parted ways and i took the train to Oktoberfest i met a pretty girl there who just wanted to get drunk and make out and… even at 21 i was like, nah. because i had had the real thing, whatever it was, down there in gay par-eee.

and that thing was intellectual stimulation which for me is the bullseye. the heart of the matter.

back in those days there was no email so i called her once or twice and we exchanged a few letters but im pretty sure when she got back to america she married her guy because i gave up on her quickly and that could have been the only reason why.

anyways ae was incredible for that week and i even remember her man’s name, thats how obsessed i was with her.

magic’ll do that.

since then i have known and loved lots of people, including asians. we are all people. we all want the same things: to be loved and respected and allowed to live.

i dont see why thats such a hard thing for people to understand.

the older i get the more i rethink how i feel about a certain type of american.

and i wish they had met the people that i have had the chance to break fromage et pain with outside the louvre while struggling to open a bottle of wine with a swiss army knife.

and i thank God every day for letting me know all these reflection of light.

if you only knew how hard it is for me to concentrate

ive never had this problem before.

i can pay attention to things for minutes and then on to the next.

i need a staff. i need interns. i need a consiglieri. i need a busboy.

the great singer of the Cure, Robert Smith, went on tour once and reportedly had an assistant that could only ask him questions that he could answer with yes and no.

i need that. but if i was singing, id get bored of a song after a minute. maybe i would have to play the tunes at twice the speed.

im even bored with this post.

they say libras fall in love at the drop of a hat

while that’s true, it’s even more embarrassing than that.

often the simplest things can get the heart beating: a well turned line of poetry, a full blog post, a dance around a tree,

and sometimes

the lightest sigh.

luckily i was born on the Scorpio cusp which helps me shut the door that the Libra side loves to open.

the Scorpion never forgets a single slight, is suspicious of all comers, and enjoys the taste of blood both literally and figuratively while the Libran only wants

peace love and harmony.

the Scorp want to fuck, fight, and flee

the Libra wants to cuddle, dream, and be.

i am not a Scorpio on the Libra cusp, though i think that would have been easier.

and i would have been a far sharper dresser.

i am a Libra with flashes of that deadly tail.

Last night there was a disturbance at the heron house. a 39 year old woman from Watts was upset that one of our neighbors had placed a note on her Kia Soul warning that if she did not fix her car alarm a brick would find its way through her windshield.

she did the natural thing and started raging at our building. IMMA DRAG WHOEVER WROTE THIS NOTE FROM ONE END OF THE BLOCK TO THE OTHER

she explained that she was not the one to be played with

that she was violent, worked and lived nearby, and if she lost her job over this matter so be it. she yelled so loudly and beautifully i was instantly in love.

i finished my shower, got dressed, and went out into the courtyard where several of my neighbors had gathered to try to reason with her.

they were met with threats and strange questions from her like HOW OLD ARE YOU? and


the angels have blessed my mind with the greatest comebacks and i delivered a few but i felt bad. this woman loved her new used car sans license plate. she was traumatized with the crime on her block which is why she parked on ours.

the xbi has ensured that i am safe for some reason.

but some of her threats were just funny. and when she took a breath an while the other ladies in my courtyard paused, i asked her if i could ask a question.

she said yes. because i am so handsome. in my long robe. at night.

i asked, can i have your text message number so i can call you if the alarm goes off again that way you can turn it off and no one has to leave notes.

later one of my neighbors called me a peacemaker which if you recall that was my new years resolution.

eventually the police came. so much excitement for our little block. we all talked for hours. videos had been made. police reports. edibles were exchanged.

the outraged woman brought many of us together, which is quite a feat since we had been locked up in our apartments for a year, alone. sad. borderline miserable.

we exchanged laughs afterwards in the group text chat.

and this morning her car was gone.


i really wanted my post on medium to blow up yesterday

but things blowing up is a rare thing, next week i have this thing about coke that i bet you will do well in fact if i was smart id work on it all day today

but i am a dumb stupid foolish person.

anyways i saw something on twitter and noticed it was only 4 minutes old so i put it up on reddit and ba-zoom, nearly 1,000 upvotes and 5 people gave me things, one of them was Reddit Gold.

as you see, i rarely post things on reddit and the last two times i did it only got 20 and 29 upvotes.

reddit will quickly tell you if you’re out of touch.

and then boom Da Bearsssssss.

granted, it was sad and angry and i would not like to excel in those emotions, but it was nice to see when i least expected it.

when i wake up im interviewing one of howard stern’s long time interns

lets see how that goes

today ‘ucsb’ is trending on Twitter


that’s because some of the kids are celebrating how they got in to america’s newest most popular college

or they’re super depressed they werent accepted

im exhausted.

i woke up early to post my thing on Shane Nickerson, the Ridiculousness producer.

after i did i got some really great advice about Medium and a bunch of people want to write for my new medium publication, Del Playa

then i went to Hollywood Blvd to photograph this dude im writing another piece on.

and then i got a Popeye’s sandwich and the manager there remembered me from when i interviewed her for Los Angeleno. she said that theres a TikTok video of she and i making the rounds of when i was talking with her.

i couldnt find it. i will try again tomorrow.

im pooped.

so out of energy.

do i really need to eat vegetables instead of fried chicken?