busblog

nothing in here is true

  1. Monday, July 27, 2015

    picasso was never called an asshole 

    picassowhen youre young you never worry about your health, your retirement fund, or obama spying on your skype chats

    but when you get older that kink in your back lingers, your hands have to be treated with kid gloves

    and you have to watch out getting out of the couch too quickly or you’ll throw something out.

    it’s no way to live and makes you feel like youre gonna die.

    heres the things i wanna do and know before i publish my last post:

    did i really live. did i really love.

    did all the unique stories that i could tell get told.

    will the good Lord be happy that i walked and talked and rocked around this beautiful crust.

    or was all of this a terrible waste.

    picasso worked and worked and everything in his workshop was beautiful AND looked like picassos.

    there was a time when the things i wrote looked like ee or bukowski or william carlos williams

    and then the motors started humming and not only was it all about the busblog but ppl started imitating

    me

    me!

    but was i saying anything? was i telling the good news of the Lord? was i shining a light on LA in a different way than everyone else who has come here and lived?

    before i croak theres a lot more secret stories that i feel uncomfortable telling even on this blog that i want to tell because they were important to me.

    i always thought id start at 50 years old because thats when bukowski did it but sadly working for the xbi has made it so rough on my body i have no idea if i’ll make it to 50.

    so i need to start writing those things down sooner than later or else who else will write them?

    those are the things i worry about on a monday morning when the hot water heater is busted and i look forward to a cold shower on a summer day in 2015.

    glad im alive and fixing to be super aware of errything.

  2. Tuesday, July 7, 2015

    do you know i love you? i do. 

    virginsevery now and then she’ll text me something hot to remind me she’s still thinking of me but she’s so far away why even bother.

    maybe if i was a hundred years younger. or taller. or more millionairish.

    they can just fly people around on jet planes and fly back in time for work.

    the hard part about this part of my life is this is when things started going great for bukowski.

    what the hell am i supposed to do with that information.

    which ironically is what i wanted to text back at chica, but then i thought shes being nice, shhhhh.

    the cubs swept the cardinals today. there was a bank error in my favor.

    and i nearly died in a car crash when this lady from a strip mall to my right cut across my lane to merge with the traffic in the lane to the left to me.

    this truck nearly hit her which woulda pushed her right into me.

    crushing my just now developing brain and pretty face.

    but he didn’t. he just honked. so when i got home

    even though she may as well be on the international space station

    i texted back, lookin good bb

    which is code for

    save me

    hurry

  3. Thursday, May 28, 2015

    throwback thursday morning 

    6850 DPshe wasnt the prettiest girl but i wasnt neither.

    she climbed over the sweaters and remote controls and made her way above my face.

    what time is it, i asked, she said who cares. so i clapped my hands twice and the christmas lights added some color to the formerly pitch black room.

    she asked did you like? i said, whats not to like?

    she said did you love?

    which is a strong word even for someone like me who throws around other four-letter words like it aint no thing

    because in the grande scheme of things, tis no thing but an onion ring.

    so i said oui.

    she wasnt buying it.

    when was the last time you really really really loved something? she whispered into my ear while manipulating my moneymaker beneath the duvet.

    i thought and i thought and i had to go back in time.

    but was that love love, i questioned? was it lust? was i beyonce in love? was it all a cabaret old chum?

    i said i loved seeing ac/dc in coachella while wearing an ac/dc shirt and shorts and singing a long.

    she said you shouldnt have to spend that much time remembering the last time you loved something.

    every week you should have many things on that list.

    you deserve it.

    and i said i do?

    and she looked me right in the eyes and said

    i do.

  4. Thursday, May 7, 2015

    sometimes i think things and i think god are you dumb 

    sidney poitier tony curtis jack lemmoni think you know that path is stupid. you know nothing, jon snow, can be made of that.

    but i obsess.

    i have two cats. when they hear my bedroom door open they go crazy and they tear around the corner and they run in my room and they go over to the book case and look at the books.

    i say to them, what are you gonna read? what is your deal.

    it’s more about being in a place they know theyre not really welcome, than actually being somewhere they can rock.

    they have the whole mansion, the only room off limits (every now and then) is my room.

    but omg they love being in there.

    once they get comfortable they do the unimaginable: they chase after shadows and phantoms that they “see” in my sheets.

    they pounce on things that dont exist.

    sometimes my foot is under what doesnt exist and i fling them off the bed. so that they’ll learn.

    but they dont learn and neither do i.

    i too search in the shadows for mythical treasures.

    everything that i want is right in front of me and wearing signs that say Good or Bad but thats not good enough.

    i live in a giant city where things are clearly marked and yet i hunt. mostly online. but sometimes in dreams.

    where is it. where is she. where am i. who am i. how can i do this. what can i do here.

    pounce.

    and nothing.

    until the Good Lord flings me off of this giant waterbed called Hollywood.

    and back into yr heart.

  5. Thursday, April 9, 2015

    she said i feel like the desert just sucked all the bad LA 

    11139803_10153192772353057_1894841989_nout of me

    and turned it into windy sand.

    wide parking spaces, pigeons, and artificial grass.

    they got charlie parker is playing over the PA trying to be classy

    but it’s too loud, too forced.

    we get it.

    vacation.

    theres very little to find bad about kids laughing splashing in the pool

    they do this concert this time of year because it’s not yet super hot

    but its nice enough to take your shirt off.

    this place is like going to your grandmas house.

    everything is just so.

    nothings just so in hollywood

    Screen Shot 2015-04-09 at 7.05.15 PM

    im feeling terrific. the music sounds good.

    days off.

    and i get to drive.

    my wrists hurt, i smell like icy hot. i bought giant bananas

    obscenely

    and the struggle will be between having time to chill

    and grinding.

    the rates are higher out here and the blocks are longer.

    theres a kfc within walking distance of this poolside recliner.

    im so glad im here.

    im so lucky.

    so

  6. Tuesday, March 31, 2015

    they’re opening up another Kanpai 

    smokerthis one is gonna be about 2 miles away from the other one.

    which is good because if they opened up one near my house id need a third job.

    pretty girls call me to see whats up but i dont call em back.

    somewhere my mojo disappeared and i am uncertain as to how i get it back. the fellas at the xbi say drinking but come on.

    drinking is played out. plus i like waking up without the world pounding in my ears.

    drove a gorgeous girl up from beverly hills to baldwin hills last night. at first she didnt wanna talk so i respected that

    but then i got tired of not talking so i asked her where she was from and she said DC and i said i was born there and she started talking and talking and talking.

    then she said shes deciding between colleges: san diego state or uc santa barbara.

    i asked her, have you ever kissed a guy who had just smoked a whole cigarette?

    she laughed and said omg my ex bf in dc.

    i said san diego is like kissing a whole football team of guys who just smoked a carton of cigarettes.

    she said whats santa barbara like?

    i said it’s your first kiss that you’ll never forget.

    and when we finally got to her house i said, see you on DP on halloween!

    and she said, you just may,

    tony

  7. Thursday, March 26, 2015

    ali and i were talking about things we wanna do in our lives 

    tumblr_liycxryBUk1qa3u0oo1_1280

    she was so clear, so focused, it was beautiful.

    me, im more abstract and boring.

    i wanna help people.

    more specifically i wanna help people achieve their dreams.

    tumblr_nludm3W9hW1u4ldilo1_540

    even more specifically i wanna help people while wearing a cubs hat and shorts.

    sadly yesterday on the radio i was listening to this guy say that men dont get taken seriously when they wear shorts.

    unless they won the lottery.

    so my new goal is to help people while wearing shorts after winning the lottery.

    however maybe a more realistic goal is to help people while being one of the few men who are respected for wearing shorts.

    tumblr_ndg7w4awMt1rkm4r8o1_1280

    by the way, nobody likes my shorts.

    i have several pairs of plaid shorts and two of the same pair of bathing trunks that have pockets

    thus shorts.

    the only people who like them are the good people of Las Vegas who dont care because i tip well.

    tumblr_ml85zl6Jme1r5wynfo1_r1_500

    drove a fashion designer around today who focuses on mens fashions.

    i shoulda asked her if she would be interested in creating shorts for men which will DEMAND respect.

    DEMAND SHORTS they could be called.

    or RESPECT MY SHORTS could be stitched into the inseam or something.

    tumblr_nkmwk4mVsg1t2guw5o1_540

    deep down i just wanna be a televangelist on one of those Christian cable channels.

    pretty sure St. Peter would love that and sneak me through the sneaky window

    if the show was good.

  8. Wednesday, March 25, 2015

    are ppl cray? oui 

    pieam i cray?

    oh hell yes.

    are ppl capable of beautifully delicious wonderfully selfless loveliness and miracles?

    def

    is that why we should put up with each other?

    no.

    we should put up with each other because we are all children of God and when we diss one child we diss the creator, and since we are made in his image we are dissing ourselves.

    we should put up with each other because they put up with us on our bad days, of which there are many, and we need to thank them for that.

    we should put up with each other because theres really no one else

    we are it. they are us. we are we. us is us.

    hating ourselves is what the devil wants, not the angels.

    plus it’s lazy. hate something better than each other.

    hate gravity. hate darkness. hate cancer.

    or better yet, use that power to explore love.

    explore sexiness.

    explore hotness and joy and peace and funkiness.

    put up with yourself because thats what god does

    and love is whats closest to godliness.

  9. Wednesday, March 11, 2015

    Isabella Rosellini’s mom writes Cary Grant 

    094_073020Every now and then I stumble across something rare and super cool at work, which is weird because our libraries are filled with rare and super cool stuff.

    Today I found a great letter from Ingrid Bergman to her good friend Cary Grant in 1957 thanking him for accepting her Best Actress Oscar a few days previous. He had accepted the award for her because she was in quasi exile in Europe because she was in a scandalous relationship that was even denounced on the floor of the U.S. Senate(!).

    The scandal was so intense that Ed Sullivan wouldn’t have her on as a guest even though a poll voted on by viewers overwhelmingly said they wanted her on the show.

    Still Sullivan said no!

    What was the scandal? She fell in love with Roberto Rossellini her Italian director and divorced her husband to be with him and live in Italy and have little Italian bambinos.

    For 6-7 years she stayed in Europe making weird neorealistic films and being a mommy until her career shifted and she left Rosellini.

    Her first major studio movie in her comeback was Anastasia, which earned her the Oscar. It was a mild upset because she beat out Deborah Kerr who starred in the hugely popular My Fair Lady. Only problem was Kerr didn’t sing in the musical. There was a stunt singer. And how do you give someone an Oscar for a musical where they didnt sing?

    Thus Bergman won and her career was back on track. But first Grant accepted for her. And she sent him a terrific letter filled with cute little typewriter typos and actual real insights about her “getting” it that she had omg won an Oscar.

    The year after she won she returned to the U.S. to present the Best Picture at the Oscars and was given a standing ovation by the audience.

    they loved her again.

    they had never stopped.

    screw the senate, screw ed sullivan’s really big shoe, screw anyone who said a woman couldnt divorce her husband.

  10. Tuesday, March 10, 2015

    if i had kids, the biggest lesson id teach them is life isnt fair 

    springid tell them some people will be richer in finances than you could ever imagine

    and some will be poorer in the pocketbook than you’d ever know.

    some will be able to drink bottles and bottles of wine, and some, even if they had a little glass would freak out.

    id tell them some will be able to hit a ball left handed and run superfast to first

    and some will swing and miss every time and never get better.

    id tell them that this isnt a terrible game The Good Lord plays on us,

    instead it’s a wonderful game

    to see what we are really made of.

    in books, movies, and tv shows we see how things, stuff, possessions, and cash rarely make the rich happy for very long.

    even the kardashians and kanye show us that no matter what they accumulate, they arent any more joyous and happy than Honey Boo Boo, whose parents broke up once they got rich and famous.

    happiness is the goal.

    love is the target.

    and the secret ingredient through all of that is trust.

    trust your bffs, trust the Lord, trust the process, trust nature, trust your heart.

    and most importantly trust that the angels above knew what they were doing when

    they sent theo epstein from boston to chicago for a bag of beans.

    trust that he is building the team that will right all the wrongs cub fans have endured over the years

    and once we win the world series, our hair will grow back

    our cavities will be filled

    and our hearts will be healed

    forever.