i had a TSG siting

which totally made me happy. i was a little nervous that she was on that plane with Aaliyah since i hadn’t seen her in about a week.

So, here’s today’s gripe with my local transit authority. L.A. has a subway, which I ride, which really only has one legit transfer stop: Wilshire at Vermont. This is where the North Hollywood – Union Station line intersects the Wilshire/Western – Union Station line. If both trains are running on time, the North Hollywood train arrives at Wilshire/Vermont about 3 minutes before the Wilshire/Western train. But life isn’t perfect, so this doesn’t always happen. What happened today, like many days, is that the Wilshire/Western train arrives exactly at the same time as the North Hollywood train, making it impossible to transfer trains; meaning that all the people have to wait a good 5-7 minutes for the next North Hollywood train.

My question to the MTA: since you only have one stinking transfer point on your whole damn line, why don’t you have the one train conductor tell the other train conductor, “dude, wait two fucking minutes, im running a tad late.” I mean, what’s your freaking hurry to make it to Wilshire/Normandie and then Wilshire/Western since you’re just going to take a ten minute break anyhow, since that is the end of the line?

The MTA has a web page where you can give them these golden tips. Perhaps you, too, would like to offer them up some advice.

Tony’s Tips

for serial killers.

Rule #1: After you murder your wife and kids, don’t “hide” in your mom’s backyard. That’s so, like, juvenile.

Rule #2: I know it’s hard to resist the charm of Citrus Heights, but don’t “hide” in the same town that you committed you’re heinous crimes.

Rule #3: If you’re going to carry around a map of a city where you’re more likely to get away with murder, think Modesto.

worked out after work

for the first time since high school. the best part was the steam room. i sweated so quickly, like after only 3 minutes i was soaking. i loved feeling the room drop little pellets of water on me. i love the heat. i thought it would help relax my suddenly awake muscles but on the way to the bus stop i could barely run after the big red Rapid. so i had to wait for another one.

took it to la cieneaga, transfered to an orange one for about three blocks and went to a press screening of Jeepers Creepers, which by entertainment law, i cannot talk about till tomorrow.

spent the night with rene. shes got such a hot bod. some people wish they could teach the world to sing, i wish i could teach hot chicks to appreciate their hot bods. it was good to rest my sore back on her ultra soft bed. and thank God she had a vicodin.

took the 21 down Santa Monica to 18th Street and walked up to Wilshire. dont tell anyone but i miss Santa Monica like alot alot. took my DNA test which consisted of a polaroid, a fingerprint, and four swabs of my saliva from inside my mouth (fascinating!). and then took the Rapid back to work. Not many Rapid stops in Santa Monica, so i hoofed it about a mile cuz i just cant stand still at bus stops, even with a healing lower back. thank God she had one more vicocin this morn.

always be good to your ex’s cuz one day they will be very good to you.

sometimes people call out requests of past posts

this nice girl asked where i put that thing about canadians legalizing pot for terminally ill people. ah, it’s here. And then Gary Condit wrote in to ask me where I put the thing about he and i interviewing each other the other day and it’s here.

one day i’ll get it together and make a proper index, so in the meantime i appreciate your patience, and dont be shy to write me and ask. if it’s during the day you can write me at work: tpierce@eentertainment.com and maybe i’ll know off the top of my head. otherwise you can just email me at dumbass@tonypierce.com where one of my soon-to-be leaving summer interns will ignore it.

tonight im going to the press screening of “Jeepers Creepers” with my sexy ex. i was thinking about writing a review, but i guess i’ll just wait for Layne to write his and then i’ll steal it and send it to BusinessWeek. i always wanted to get published there, now i see why i never was: i use my own material.

the sorority invited me

to their slumber party in westwood again this year, so i wont be updating my main page tonight. but in the meantime i hope you visit the sites of those who have doled out the tpierce shout outs.

the ladies asked what they could give me i told them i needed some behind the ear headphones cuz the normal ones wreck the ‘fro. they laughed and said it wouldnt be a problem, which is good because i forgot my newspaper this morning and the whole commute i couldnt get that Xzibit song out of my head:

The first day of the rest of my life / X stand behind the mic like Walker Kronkike/ Y’all keep the spotlight / I’m keeping my rhymes tight / Lose sight of what you believe / And call it a night This ain’t the light-weight, cake mix shit That you’re used to / Teflon territory you just can’t shoot through You gonna shoot who? (Who?) / Not even on your best day / Rollin’ the Wild West way, givin’ it up / Leavin’ the whole world stuck not givin’ a fuck / Laid in the cut now we break through in the rut / Hennesy and Orange Juice baby fill up a cup / Quick to grab Mary Jane by the butt and squeeze, loosen up.

i never thought it would come to this

but thankfully, everyone who rides public transpo here in LA reads this Blog, so good. here’s today’s lesson:

if you’re fortunate enough to ride an escalator, if you’re not going to move, slide to the right. it’s a pretty universal concept. and when you get off the ride, keep moving. you aren’t the only other person in the world. dont just get off and dig into your purse, or pull out your cell phone, or light up a joint. keep it movin.

if you want to be an inconsiderate ass, buy a car.

if you’re fat, move to the back

that means you, Lou from REI. the retard lookin guy with the Blair Witch tshirt, black socks, black shorts, black shoes. if youre not getting off and youre a big loser, move your ass to the back of the bus so that people can get off and/or get on. theres no reason to stand in the aisle and theres no reason to stand in the exit doorway.

if you’re not too thin, move in!: sometimes people get off. but when the person who is sitting next to them is fat and does not scooch in to the window seat, no one can sit, which means that no one can get out of the aisle. which means, I cant squeeze through all the mass of humanity which means i miss my stop and i have to travel an enitre mile before the next stop!

and by the way, the escalator — the UP one, of course — was not working at the Wilshire/Western red line station. i may not get a bus pass next month out of protest.

in unrelated news, the court may issue a bench warrant against me. why? because the state is a bunch of wankers and when i go to heaven i get to poop on them.