nothing in here is true

  1. Monday, August 20, 2018

    i was so sick last week 

    and then i went to the urgent care and the dude told me to bend over and pull down my pants

    and i was all, so this is what it’s come to?

    and he gave me a shot into one cheek

    and another in the other cheek

    and he gave me a bunch of pills

    and he said drink lots of water and pray to the Lord

    and kiss that pretty girl i see on your blog

    and i swear to you within an hour i could feel the Good fighting the Evil

    and i was all, Work Bitch Work!

    the night before i had coughed so much i began puking. i coughed so much one of my cats shut the bathroom door because i was disturbing her.

    i was coughing so much my lungs were hurting and my throat was sore and i was running out of TP

    but then after visiting the urgent care there i was healthy, feeling like Robert Plant on the balcony of the Riot Hyatt in ’73

    i could eat again, sing again, dance again.

    we are such fragile, sensitive, weird little sacks of miracles.

    tiny doses of chemicals can alter us so much, just like how the meanest sneer can bum our days.

    i never want to be the reason anyone feels down

    except for those jackasses on twitter who are probably russian bots

    i want to be the booty shot of love.

    i wanna be your miracle drug.

    think good thoughts.

  2. Wednesday, August 15, 2018

    ive been sick 

    i coulda been from the smoke in the air from the fires

    im a sensitive poet, especially my gnose

    anyway, i just hurled so things should be better now.

    we’ll find out tomorrow.


  3. Wednesday, November 15, 2017

    and another one 

    last night around 4am i woke up because i was having pains in my lower back and i had a shortness of breath.

    i went to the bathroom but i knew what it was, especially when i couldn’t pee: kidney stones.


    i fuddled around my pad trying to prepare for the super long wait in the ER and doing my best not to wake up Amber. but i failed at everything.

    i couldn’t find my sweat pants, i couldn’t find my cubs knit hat and i disturbed the pretty girl, who then put on her clothes and walked me to Kaiser Permanente, where i had delivered my previous two stones.

    that’s right, in four years working for the Academy, i have now had three kidney stones.

    i try to be a cool customer, and most of the time i pull it off but the two block walk was endless. every step hurt and when we finally made it to the hospital and they told us to go upstairs and walk to the ER i began crying.

    for so many reasons.

    the biggest reason is i know what is needed to end the pain: heroin. they dont call it that in the hospital, they call it Demerol or Morphine or some other less hysterical name but it’s heroin and once they inject it into you, your body relaxes, you get super pukey, and then you drift off into a beautiful daze.

    but when you enter the hospital, if you mention pain killers even once, the machine stops and you will be delayed your sweet reward for at least an hour. trust me, i know.

    so you suck it up. and it makes you cry because if you are someone like me who is not shy about communication, it kills you not to say, “please just one shot in the ass and we can do all the other things.”  because if you say that they think you’re an addict and uggggghhhhh.

    we get to the window and thank God i was already in the system due to the previous visits and Lord Above they don’t make me do any paperwork. Also, blessings upon blessings, theres only one other person in the entire waiting room.

    so a nurse hooks me up to the blood pressure machine and murphys law it doesnt seem to wanna work so im moaning and crying and writhing around in the seat. inside all i want to do is say “BRO MY BLOOD PRESSURE IS 1000 over 10 million, lets make this happen!” but you have to be cool.

    and cry. just keep crying. just let it out, which is just as bad as the pain for me because why am i crying? im crying because this is death. i am totally out of control, i am at the mercy of people who are up at 4am who cant even get their GD blood pressure machine to work and im gonna die right there on Sunset Blvd. im crying because no doctor or specialist has been able to tell me how to avoid this. im crying because theres a pretty girl listening to me not be cool.

    my BP is 178 over 125. HAPPY EVERYONE?

    they take me to room 10. amber helps me out of my shirt. im laying on the gurney and im just moaning like a bear who has been shot in the fucking head but he aint dead yet. theres a few other people in this part of the ER and because i am highly sensitive in all areas at this point i can hear them all saying, what the hells wrong with that guy?

    and fortunately Amber parts the curtains and very politely asks a nurse, can we do something about this pain?


    then the longest ten minutes in human history passed and finally a nurse came in with a cocktail of morphine, anti-puke meds, high blood pressure pills, and a shot of rum.

    it cut right through the pain. but naggingly it was still there. they asked me to pee, and i peed. lawdy lawdy did i pee.

    i peed so much i felt like maybe the stone was gone. but no i could still feel it. so they took me to the cat scan where i met a man who looked like all my relatives. and it turned out he was from DC. so we chatted, and took a picture together but when i got up i doubled over.

    then a nurse came in and asked what the pain level was. i said it was a 10 then a 2 now we are back up to 8. and they gave me another dose of morphine and i drifted into a nether land.

    before i floated too far, i said, amber, if i fall asleep just go home. youve been awake since 4:20, no need for you to soldier through this. but she went to starbucks and came back. i had a phone that could get tv shows. she wasnt interested and soon the doc said i was free to go.

    but life isnt fair and the hospital pharmacy doesn’t allow me to get drugs there so we took a Lyft to the Walgreens a few miles away. and i felt so good.


    i felt like i had delivered a baby and it had already graduated college.

    the contrast between ultimate pain and a quick lack of pain was bizarre and slightly unnerving. how can we feel like we are going to die at 6am but at 9am alls kool and the gang? got the meds, took one of the pain pills and drifted off again.

    and then slept and slept.

    so whats the lesson: simple. always have a little stash of heroin around the house just incase.


    tomorrow morning i have to be in santa monica at 8:30am to fight a traffic ticket. i wonder if i pass out.

  4. Wednesday, July 12, 2017

    im starving 

    theyre gonna put a thing up my butt tomorrow.

    a thing with a camera on it.

    to make sure they can see what they need to see i cant have any food in there.

    so i cannot eat food today.

    i have gone through a variety of emotions.

    ive wanted to fight, cry, scream, now im chill for some reason.

    weird because i should be half way through a meeting right now, but my meeting was bumped.

    so im waiting for my meeting to be allowed to take place.

    all i wanna do is go home and cry.

    a nice Jewish girl who i work with pointed at my apple juice and said,

    “you’re having a party right now. once a year we don’t get to eat OR drink anything.”

    that made me feel better.

    she said they also think spiritual things when theyre fasting.

    like they are supposed to think about all the bad things they’ve done that year.

    i was all, ive done a lot more than can be handled in a day.

    the other day though i did something good.

    at the xbi we call it: saved a cat from a tree.

    this cat was in a tree that was on fire.

    afterwards i thought i could just play it off but i had to see a doctor to remove a bullet from my side.

    so i went and ate steak to get some of that meat back.

    its been a week of losing blood, giving blood, eating bloody meat.

    and now eating nothing and being forced to be patient.

    tomorrow theyre gonna put that camera in me and i hope they dont see anything bad.

    im the only bad thing.

  5. Friday, August 12, 2016

    two years ago yesterday we lost a giant 

    Academy-to-Robin-Williams-Genie-youre-free_zpsfc4ec9aathe reason everyone should blog is maybe if everyone blogged we would know when more people are battling things.

    and we’re all battling things.

    some are fighting more serious things than others and need a little more help.

    robin williams was so beloved can you imagine the outpouring of support that he would have had if we had known?

    pretty sure lots of people would have also gotten that love.

    but the first part of it is we have to know.

    life is so very complicated

    it’s better that it’s complicated but it can make it so hard.

    superstars are just like us. they should be more like us. they should write in public. they should use instagram. they should tweet. we should give them a break once in a while though.

    not everyone can afford a social media wunderkind.

    life shouldnt ever be determined by money.

    and it should never be ruined by fame.

    i can’t help thinking if robin williams was a mid level manager he would have gotten the treatment he needed.

    but because he was super famous he thought he had to do something different than everyone else.

    but as sting once said, if only you knew how fragile we are.

  6. Tuesday, July 28, 2015

    got out of my ride and felt stiff 

    randomly searchedis this what getting old is like?

    i drive so much, thats probably the problem. i feel great though. my hands my fingers, my legs. when you have rides all the aches go away.

    but still, i cant go on like this.

    theres a gym across the street from my work im thinking about joining. all i do at lunch is spend money. what a waste.

    may as well run one day. lift the next day. do yoga the third day and get all of this back together.

    i used to be an all star athlete.


    when i walk down the street i dont feel like an old man. i park in a place thats actually a medical facility.

    seeing the old people struggle to get in and out of their cars with the help of their filipino assistances is scary as hell.

    these people didnt look like this when they were my age.

    i dont know if i will live to 90 but if i do i dont want to be the people i see every morning.

    i want to ride my hoverboard to the spot, ollie over a station wagon, jump off of it, and have it flip into my fanny pack.

    like Al Gore intended.

    these are my goals.


  7. Tuesday, July 21, 2015

    took the night off, which is boring, but i was illin 

    hills housei like to work. i like to be moving. i like to meet people and help people and learn.

    when i was in college i had three jobs. when i moved to frisco i had three jobs.

    during LAist, the Times, and KPCC i had just one job but i spent all night working on those blogs because i was learning. (i also was freelancing with the xbi on occasion if they begged)

    now i only have two jobs. which is fine. im older. i need to learn how to relax. which is tough. because when i relax i fall asleep.

    so last night as you know my hands and back were hurting so i went out to the pool and put casablanca on the tv and just watched the moon and bogey do their thing.

    i felt like i was retired. i feel asleep outside. i barely touched my food. it didnt feel right. i like to be out there. whats the use of being in LA if youre not gonna be out there?

    if youre not gonna be out there why not just move to oregon where the land is cheap(er) and the homes are bigger and you can grow weed legally?

    but this morning my hands and my back feel better and im rested and the cats were happy to see me and jeanine was happy i was around and alls well.

    i do plan on seeing my doctor though because i feel like im too young for arthritis and i would hate to think that im actually hurting myself driving a freaking car.

    as if!

  8. Sunday, July 19, 2015

    you wanna make me laugh? tell me what i can do on the busblog 


    true story: today someone auditioned to be the editor of this blog.

    they were all: you stop writing about me this instant!

    i was like: OMG LOL ROFL

    this blog has been around for centuries. maybe longer. ive done everything possible with this thing

    IMG_0564except one: let someone else decide shit here.

    my mom, the person i love the most in life, she has notes about the world famous

    she tells them to me all the time “you seem too sad” “why do you swear so much?” “will you please stop writing about the xbi?” “was that really the best photo you could have used?”


    and i listen to her say the words but i tell her ma i put nothing in here is true for you. you and you only. now its for you and you mostly. and i love her and i want her to be proud of me but no way can she be the executive editor of this.

    so imagine when someone who is not my mother today not just asked but demanded that i do or not do something in this semi holy text? JUST IMAGINE!

    dear person: you are ill. you are not thinking right. you know what you need to do and you wont do it.

    it is not kill yourself. it is not act a fool. it is not avoid.

    it is go to the place where they cure what you have and get it cured.

    here are three things that you should not say to yourself about why you cant be cured

    1. bullshit about time

    2. malarkey about money

    3. anything about me

    a year ago almost to this day we saw young jeanine whine and bitch and scream and freak out and the two things she went on and on about were regarding to time and money

    jimi and the monkeesthe lamest excuses the devil could ever put in our mouths.

    and we did not listen to her. why? because she was being a crazy person who didnt really have a job and didnt really have a place to live and the world would be better and she would be better if she just did the right thing and jump into rehab. (which she did, thank god, praise Jesus)

    well you, would-be busblog editor, are in the same boat. thats not a real job for someone your age and for sure thats not a real place to live.

    which are not insults meant to hurt, those are observations from the world laser beamed to your heart via the busblog, purveyor of truth disguised as delicious poetry.

    where you are is not where you think you are. you are in a very bad place and you are having a spotlight shined on it and boo hoo too bad, so what, now what

    go: to the place: to get: cured.

    you are being boring and typical and cliche and you are better than that.

    you have seen the light and now you are turning your back on it. that is not only disrespectful but borderline sinful.

    babies cry in heaven when they even hear that this is going on down here.

    stop it. this minute. fix it. fucking fix it. go to the place and take on the issue that causes the issue and you will be free to do the scariest thing you have been avoiding for a decade:

    your actual fucking life.

    and to hell with everyone you know who is not saying the same.

    they are not on your team.

    this is the word of the busblog.

  9. Monday, May 11, 2015

    shout out to my man don frances 


    many moons ago i was a happy bachelor living alone on 24th and Potrero in the mission district.

    i had a sweet 1BD apt with a fireplace, dishwasher, washer drier in the bathroom. i even had a balcony that overlooked a church.

    god i was happy.

    but then don (pictured with the sexy glasses) and charlie knocked on my door and invited me to move to 591 haight street and live with them in a huge victorian.

    5 bedrooms and one little bathroom.

    i said no of course. why would i leave my beautiful pad? they said because of all the cool people youre gonna meet. including the women!

    i said oh im up to my neck in women. all they do is come over and love me and dance around and then go home. it’s like heaven!

    lies they said (and they were right) so i packed up my entire apartment and moved into one room!

    i had a terrific time and fell in love with the truest and moved outta the haight house with her and never looked back, except for all the time.

    now i hear Don has just had open heart surgery!

    he’s ok, but a prayer would be nice.

    keep Don safe and strong, Lord



  10. Friday, April 24, 2015

    funny thing happened in the desert 


    in the middle of the tornado of drinking rocking eating not sleeping came a still soft voice in the wilderness

    it said tony you may not realize this but there are lots of people who love you

    (i did not know this)

    and you should take care of yourself because we want you around for the duration.

    in one hand was a deep fried jack in the box taco

    in the other was a super big gulp of coke.

    and below that was my bulging belly.


    it was eerie how the voice knew that i had given up on my health.

    somehow it knew i hadn’t been hiking any more, hadnt been dating since the blonde.

    and sorta chucked everything except for my job and a half.

    but desert voices know all, which is why they’re so valuable.

    and why we miss out when we dont go out there to retune our heartstrings.

    so yesterday i went to whole foods and made a salad.

    and only drank a quarter can of pop.

    drove less and slept more.

    you know, all the things you promise yrself on new years.


    i dont know what i was rebelling against other than the xbi.

    i didnt want myself to be recruitable.

    also i wanted the ladies to love me for my heart, not my abs.

    even though my heart was being corroded by corn syrup and mediocrity.

    its funny how we can be our own worst enemy.

    not funny ha ha but funny oh crap i cant even fit into my pj pants.


    this week ive been unsubscribing from junk mails

    which isnt exactly the same as hiking, but its baby steps.

    but sunday i’ll see you at runyon, terrible big hill.