nothing in here is true

  1. Saturday, October 22, 2016

    today is my birthday, im 50 


    how did this happen? how did i get here so fast? nothing i do is fast.

    it takes me 17 hours to eat dinner. i like to savor every moment of every thing. who knows why but i do.

    50 knocked on the door when it shoulda been 30. i feel exactly as i did back then. my eyes my heart my legs my knees.

    except for a mild touch of high blood pressure im in exactly the same shape in mind body and spirit.

    all while eating healthy portions of fast food every. single. day. often 2-3 times a day.

    my poops are regular. my weiner works. my back is fine. and my dreams are just as vivid as they were when i was seventeen.

    the old noggin keeps thinking of wild twisty colorful storylines and i write about one per cent of them down.

    50 was the age bukowski was discovered and his life completely changed.

    he was told he could just write and no longer work. so he wrote and he wrote some of the best things youve read by him: post office, ham on rye, women. all after 50. all about four blocks from where i write you.

    when you dont have to worry about the government job getting weirded out by your weird ideas the flow can flow. then you walk up the street and order some chicken and walk home with a nice greasy bag.

    i think about working out. i say to myself you were in shape the first 20 years and then coasted the last half. how about seeing what you could look like now.

    keefebut i dont want people to like me because of my abs. who cares about those. i want them to smile from the crazy stuff. the wild side. the weirdness. the love.

    bodies are the dumbest things ever and we know this and we know this but we fall. some of us. into that murky madness of a lie. donald trump looks like a cartoon and yet millions of people are going to give him their vote because of


    crazy wild weird anti love.

    thats what im learning from him at least. he doesnt stop letting it all out. he didnt wait till he was 50. and imagine how much better our secret stash is than his.

    we are not our abs or our life savings or the pretty girls we kissed or rock shows we didnt miss.

    we are not our incredible friends or our education or stories we can tell.

    we are the reflection of a loving god

    who has given us the freedom to make something fascinating of ourselves.

    we can hoard it or hide it or share it or help others with theirs

    but we are not mes we are wes

    theres no accident that theres so many of us in such a small space.

    we are not here to be alone.

    and like reflections, when we reflect each other the mirrors do the trippiest things

    into infinity and back all at once.

    and everyone except for the one holding it can see.

    im 50 because the universe allowed me to be 50.

    im 50 because of health, which im telling you, i did nothing to help.

    if anything i hurt it, i fought it, i completely took it for granted.

    but god wants me to keep reflecting


    or as clearly as my circus mirror can.

    i am grateful for everything

    i know i didnt deserve to even hear about most of it

    never mind see it or be it.

    if anything it was a secret message from above

    saying we love you, baby.



    now lets play two.

  2. Tuesday, August 16, 2016

    today is charles bukowski’s birthday, he’s 24 

    charles bukowski let it kill youborn in a rowboat in Lake Los Angeles during the stock market crash, charles bukowski, americas greatest poet, never saw riches until he was in his 50s and never cared about them once he had them.

    what he loved he did, be he broke or wealthy: the drink, the dance, the fight, the fuck.

    he had a higher voice than youd expect and he sang when he spoke.

    how do you doooooo, he’d say as his horse rounded the home stretch with the lead.

    he loved to gamble on the ponies so much that he’d often drop off his wife at the huntington library in pasadena even if the horses were running in hollywood park. afterwards he would pick her up. was he drunk? probably. did he ever get a DUI?

    did mark twain?

    did hemingway?

    did Moses?

    if you were talking to Tom Petty right now would you ask him such a question?

    Charles “Henry” Bukowski loved cats and classical music. he didnt care for your questions unless you were a pretty girl at a poetry reading at a college where he was invited to speak. and then he would just watch their lips move and eyes crinkle and hair gently flow.

    did he ever cheat on any of his girlfriends or wives? WHERE DID YOU GET THESE QUESTIONS? DID ROOSEVELT? DID MONROE? DID LASORDA?

    he smoked when he drank and drank when he wrote and wrote in a rocking chair in front of a typewriter until the year 19 hundred and 90, the year punk broke when he switched over to an Apple Quadra. the step brother of the Mac. a very young Steve Jobs himself  poured sand in Bukowski’s keyboard so the clicking sounds would be louder.

    once Jobs offered Bukowski LSD but the poet didn’t want any of that nonsense. he wasn’t a Beat! he’d bellow. give that hippie crap to Ferlinghetti or Proust or Philben! he just wanted a cold bottle of something bubbly

    and your undying love.

    you, the one with the ruby red lip colors

    you with the barrette

    you with the notepad half filled with scribbles.

    hop into my rowboat.

  3. Friday, August 5, 2016

    today is the busblog’s birthday, it’s 15 

    get born

    the other day someone asked “why did you Even start this blog”?

    but it was so long ago i dont even really remember why.

    maybe the same reason you start fiddling around when you pick up a beautiful guitar

    or dip your brush into some paint and go for it when you see an empty canvas

    or how when dudes really need to pee, and they’re outside, and it just snowed.

    but i think the busblog always wanted to be alive and found me.

    it saw me toiling away, unloved and unrespected in my cubicle, sad, and it said

    oh heres someone who will do this pretty much every day for years and years and years.

    heres someone who wont bail out after the fad has faded.

    heres someone who will do it for the right reasons and make something of this

    empty canvas

    on a snowy mound

    because he can’t play guitar.

    we all know the long list of goodness that came along because of this miracle web log

    and for that, and to all of you who have been here supporting it, may i sincerely thank you.

    expect a redesign soon.

  4. Friday, July 22, 2016

    today’s os’s birthday, he’s 24 


    born to long time kentuckians on the allegheny river on a river boat in a flood,

    os is building a recording studio on the banks of his shallow end

    and even though this isnt what i said to him when i saw how beautifully it was coming along

    this is what i would like

    i would like all of our friends to record all of their songs in the studio

    and call it the sugarfoot sessions.

    what i said was

    how much do those little water sprinklers cost

    hanging from the ceiling in case something catches fire

    the answer was

    woooo boy.

    id also like the friends to record the songs of other bands

    the bands that cant be with us, but who should be re recorded

    because no one else is gonna do it

    and it would be a shame to let those great tunes

    just fade away.

    when i didnt tell him all of that, his oldest child was playing soccer

    in his baseball uniform.

    technically it was his all star uniform for he was about to play in an all star game.

    i said, you know what people remember the most from their all star games?

    he said what. the boy’s 10 years old. by the way. where does time go?

    i said fights.

    fight em all.

    the inside of that plate is yours.

    lean in and if they plunk you, charge the mound.

    not sure if os agreed but he didnt disagree.


  5. Friday, June 10, 2016

    today is the truest’s birthday, shes 24 

    chris and africans

    almost everything you need to know about todays birthday girl is in this picture.

    when everyone was getting high, making money, going to cocktail parties with meliania

    chris went to africa to save the poorest of the poor. the blackest of the black.

    she joined the peace corps, volunteered at an orphanage filled with kids whos parents died of AIDS or wars.

    some of the kids were handicapped some were emotionally screwed up.

    two tried to kill themselves by throwing themselves into the Victoria River

    but Chris, once a member of the UCSB Women’s Crew Team, jumped into the river and saved them

    a year later she returned to the river, with the youngsters, and they took pictures to celebrate her bravery

    orphansand selflessness.

    some in the village called her a ghost. some a witch. some just called her America.

    America saved two orphans, someone said in Lugandan, the language of Uganda.

    You lie! said another.

    and a sound was heard in the distance, then a dusty image, then a rollicking cab filled with people

    some even on the roof.

    and then it stopped.

    and out came three wet souls. one white and two black.

    and off they climbed from the roof.

    and they all collapsed before they could get into the orphanage. they were exhausted.

    but alive.

    and the one said to the other SEE! SEE WHAT THE AMERICAN GHOST DID!

    today Chris lives in New Mexico where she donates blood every week.

    and listens to NPR on her solar powered radio.

    she is the very best this country is all about.

    Hillary should make her the VP.

  6. Tuesday, June 7, 2016

    today is michele’s birthday, shes 24 

    michelethe best things ive learned ive learned from women.

    and the least likely things ive learned, i learned from my girlfriends

    i have been extremely lucky with love.

    these women have all been super smart, and thankfully patient, but most of all, genius

    michele lived in malibu. i loved her family and fortunately they loved me right back. i tell these stories every year because i like to remember them.

    the drive was always so long to get out there but it was always worth it. we talked a lot, she and i. we were so young. people worry but they shouldnt. some kids just like to talk with their gf/bf. hold hands and watch movies.

    its weird that now i work right across the street from our favorite movie theatre: this little indie place that specialized in foreign films. i lived in inglewood at the time. i would drive to zuma, hang with her family and we would drive into hollywood and watch a movie, then id drive her home. then id drive back to inglewood.

    it was a lot of driving. i was 20. what did i care. i loved her. what wasnt there to love? dark hair, red lips, blue eyes, pale skin and the most beautiful words from the most concerned mind. she was from another world. i was from the dirt. she was from the heavens.

    she would see a whale in the sea and cry. shed stand by the railing and it would swim and she would see an entire novel. a mini series. she would weep during the sad parts and bawl during the happy parts. and it all took place in seconds. i didnt even look at the whale because there was a damn movie happening in her face. the weirdest and most beautiful movie. she’d apologize for crying and i’d apologize for not crying.

    she taught me about poetry and journalism and the rest of my life has been about

    well, not about whales.

    not yet. that is.

  7. Wednesday, June 1, 2016

    today is my niece Kyla’s birthday, she’s 14 


    kyla is a gemini.

    often shes a sweet angel. but i hear reports that she’s not always that way.

    but who can blame her, really, her favorite uncle is far away and she’s in a cold city

    and a giant house, with every toy, animal, human, and christmas tree a teenage girl could ever want.

    when i was her age i had a tv with three channels and an etch-a-sketch.

    we had a rotary phone and an AM radio.

    this chick’s got a PS4 AND an XBox One.

    she didnt like her brother so they adopted a baby sister for her.

    imagine that YOUR OWN BABY!

    the pool in the backyard is jacked up to 92 degrees. there are flat screen tvs in every room.

    and whenever she wants she can just “log on” to her computer (or phone or tablet or robot screen) and she can read the worlds greatest busblog.

    when i was her age i was drawing detailed maps on three ring binder paper so i could stand on a chair and drop a freshly sharpened pencil down upon my little world and see who the “bomb” destroyed.

    kyla has snapchat and instagram and minecraft and


    i hope she knows how lucky she has it.

    and how lucky we are to have her.

    happy birthday kyla jo!

  8. Tuesday, May 24, 2016
  9. Wednesday, May 11, 2016

    today is mary’s birthday, she’s 24 

    mary hugging bearas you well know by now she was my first girlfriend when we were in high school in illinois

    i havent heard from her since she sen me a little toy truck several years ago

    and we havent seen each other since there were fires in san dieger, where she has been living since forever.

    when we were kids we would write each other every day using stationary and colored pens and i would draw things and she would say the sweetest things and i would say them right back.

    every day the biggest thrill in the world was going to the mail box and getting one of her letters. it was like getting a message from Heaven itself.

    maybe im still writing her with this blog.

    maybe i moved to california the day i could just to get her back

    maybe i never moved out of california so we would maybe one day run into each other and say oh hey

    would she even recognize me?

    maybe i wear a cubs hat every day so she would

    maybe ive never gotten married or had kids or gone to jail so the door would remain open and we could finish what we started in schaumburg and hayward

    which was making out in the back seat of my cadillac right before the cops broke it up because why would a beautiful, tall blonde girl want with a skinny dude with an afro?

    maybe life is figuring out the answer to that.

    what if she moved away to hawaii long ago and im just a dog going to a bowl thats been empty for ever

    and right next door is a damn dog food factory but hes just sniffing that empty bowl

    that used to be filled with pork chops

    and apple sauce.

    hawaii it is

  10. Wednesday, March 23, 2016

    today is Liana’s birthday, shes 24 

    lianaLiana was born in havana cuba and moved to north carolina when it became obvious that america needed her.

    we met when i was just starting this blog and she insulted me and gave me dirty looks and delivered zero signals that she thought i was anything other than an annoying piece of dirt

    i believe one day i was trying to AOL instant message her and she told me she had just read this very blog

    i think she said, you are a bag of garbage with a hole in the bottom

    and as it’s dragged down the street theres a trail of gunk that is left behind

    the busblog is that trail.

    i instantly fell in love with her


    i asked her out over and over and she said no no no.

    she made fun of my clothes, my hair, my lack of a car, everything.

    but she kept reading this blog which back then did have a magic power.

    eventually she gave in and allowed me to take her to a movie, i think. it was so long ago. who knows.

    once i invite her to my place. she sat on one side of the couch and wrapped herself in a blanket and wouldnt let me come anywhere near her.

    it was the funniest thing id ever seen.

    we had many fun times after that and i miss seeing her all the time. but now shes a wife and mom and she has bigger fish to fry than to make me LOL in all her different ways.

    but today she turns 24 which is a big deal, so i brushed up on my Cuban, so here goes

    bonne anniverarrie, bella chica!