by tony pierce

1. my esp is pretty good, i thought there was a disturbance in the tragic kingdom, and sure enough, ashley was finished with me.

2. say that Repulicans are racists, and suddenly they dont want to flow funds to the busblog (i was only just kidding, friends… mostly).

3. i do have the willpower to kick my dirty little smoking habit for a full work-week and not want to jump off a bridge.

4. being 108 years old means that you have to warm up every day before softball practice, not just a mere 30 minutes before.

5. carlisa and her sister are super cool and excellent softballers.

6. Toi Hollywood makes an excellent Tom Kha Kai, and its spicy when you demand the chefs to prepare it thusly.

7. The voters of American Idol are all teen white girls who dont wanna give a sista a break.

8. Rabbit can totally get away with only posting once a week to ten days and people still love her.

9. A. Beam can totally get away with not posting for weeks and weeks, and people still love h_ _.

10. Blogcritics.com is super rad without me and they should probably take my link off their left hand column.

11. I really don’t have to be professional to be a paid journalist here in LA.

12. this chick is pretty fucking funny.

13. it’s really awesome to have ken and matt back.

14. no-talent radio morning shock jock ripoff artists really can get fired for finally putting something interesting on the air.

ferme la bouche, pussyass female dog.

pardon me, champ?

festering cur. rapscallion. whiner. fraud!

tap tap. is this thing on, im talking to you, fella.

yes, tony my ears are fine, my eyes are fine, my fingers are adroit my brain is alight, my soul is sick and my nose is awake, i can smell you from where you sit and your stench is quite droll and revealing, i am not impressed with your fiction, your page, your lies, your cries, your tears, your fantasies, your howls, your jests, your malaise, your pleas for monies nor the amount you receive. you get everything, mr. busblog, and nothing satisfies you. you are a big fat black hole, a fuck noir. you take and take and do not give. you type and spell poorly and use run-on sentences and you haven’t updated your scrabble word of the day in several months now and you dare speak in my general direction? if i had a Zippo i would light a fart and blue flame your eyebrows off.

dude, what the hell crawled up your ass?

you disgust me. you have everything at your disposal, friends, money, fame, looks, heritage, soul, humor, spirituality, talent, virility, hair, masculinity, finesse, grace, endurance, wit, sarcasm, deception, girth, resiliency, courage, innocence…

i wouldn’t say girth.

tony, i haven’t been with a woman that i haven’t had to pay for in over 45 years.

friend, we all pay one way or another.

still…

do you have any idea how much Diet Coke ashley drinks? or my phone bills? i have to win this weekend’s $115 million lottery jackpot just to break even!

touche, but i stand by my argument that you should not be holding any pity party while you still have stank on your pinkie.

being scrabble champ doesn’t help you pull?

negatory.

maybe its that winning attitude.

i will not be your whipping boy, mr. pierce, and i refuse to be the butt of your so-called comedy. i just want you to know that theres a million men out there who would trade places with you in a new york heartbeat and you need to remember that before you type up your screams off the balcony for it falls upon deaf ears and only makes you appear selfish, unappreciative and morose.

ok, buddy, the thing is…

the name’s Joel.

ok, joel, with your vocabulary i bet you could talk up a girl real good. women can be wooed by their ears. and if you can win these tournaments more often–

they’re only held once a year.

then what you need to do is just set up a table in the park like the chess guys do and challenge people to games.

no one dares play me.

then make up quickie games, like “10 minute Scrabble Game $10” you could make $60 an hour.

ahem, that is against the International Scrabble Rules, also I do not gamble at Scrabble, also as a Quality Assurance Manager for Raytheon I make upwards of $75 an hour, before overtime, of which I get plenty.

fine, joel, fine. so you have money, you know your way around the dictionary, just go out with a woman, woo her with that crazy charm of yours, have her close her eyes, and start talking dirty to her. the chicks love dirty talk.

perhaps you have a point there, tony.

that’s what im here for.

well, i might give it a try.

you know, sometimes, joel, you just have to say what the fuck.

ive been saying wtf for a long time, tony, although not in that context.

maybe you should try.

seven letter triple word scores to you, my new friend.

right back at you, nerd of the week.

hey would you put up that picture of meesh when you post this, i know you’re going to post this, you’re going to post this, aren’t you?

i would be more than happy to put up the picture of meesh. it was nice of her to send me the image, i wouldn’t want to be as selfish as you suggest.

spectacular! ok, bye!

meesh emailed me some self portraits to cheer me up, she says shes having a good hair day. i dont think that girl has ever had a bad hair day in her life.

women have the strangest ideas about things. i will never understand why it is that they make themsleves up so that other women will approve. i will never understand this whole obsession over weight. or the Golden Girls.

but maybe i will one day, and im sure that if i do i can credit it to the likes of my pals kitty and sk smith (pictured) who were kind enough to post a super long chat they had the other day where they go through a laundry list of topics that starts with a dead hamster and concludes with sarah being called a “flatassed white girl.”

i have had the pleasure of taking in the passing glance at both of these young ladie’s posteriors– it was a glance, dan, i swear– and of the two, kitty has no grounds to call any other white girl flatassed, she is one of the skinniest girls around.

anyway, the only thing better than two old chums sharing their insights, is two super cool super smart very attractive young women being silly making up words and talking about underwear shopping.

back to meesh, our friends at pantrogsblog on monday posted a very nice unreleased picture of the reigning Miss Oxnard on an incredibly good hair day

now that the carpal is healing i might actually get to doing a review of links that i missed during the week and posting them on the weekends.

yeah, just what i need, more shit to do on saturday.

is that it kills when they leave you.

ashley came over last night cuz i wasn’t answering her calls or her emails and when she called me at the xbi the operator wouldn’t let her through until she remembered that i didn’t really work there.

“there is no tony pierce that works here,” the operator said.

“i know he works there, oh, sorry Sonny I. LaVista, this is so stupid, may i speak to Agent LaVista then. aaaahhhh!” ashley sighed. she thinks its all a game.

“hello?” i said. no one calls me at work.

“hi avoider,” she said.

me and ashley had very few fights during our year and a half together. if we did they got settled pretty fast. the key to fighting with me if you’re a chick is to hold my hand and take me to the bed room and hold me and make me whisper. otherwise it will be nuclear war. and lord help you if you try to fight with me via email. you’ve never seen such writing.

so ashley got in her new car, took the 405 at 5pm, over to the 710, over to the 101, exited at the secret offramp and made it up to my bachelor pad in the griffith park hills right as the pizza guy was leaving. she had on a super short miniskirt, ponytails and a bellyshirt. he said, “are you coming to see tony?” she said yeah. he said, “shit, can i join you guys?” she said the right thing, which was, enjoy the fat tip im sure he gave you. and knocked on my door.

after a few minutes we were cuddling on my couch watching my favorite show, hbo’s behind the scenes look at the despised dallas cowboys in training camp, a few minutes after that we were doing things they don’t show on hbo, and an hour after that she was saying that all of that was a mistake, and that’s when i knew it was really over between us.

it had been too much of me pushing her away and being cold on the phone and distant and semi-rude. i was always sweet whenever we would be together but it was hard for me to open up every night on the phone because i didn’t want to lead her on and i wanted her to be open to other guys and now that she found a vegas boy who paid attention to her, i suppose she felt confident enough to get rid of me, her backup boy.

“i just don’t feel the same,” she told me. “i love you, but i don’t looooooooove you anymore.”

in 108 years of rock n roll, ive heard that one before. perhaps you have heard it too. i oughtta make a fucking tshirt.

i know im not the easiest person to be with. it’s all fun and games at the beginning, but i can be confusing. i don’t try to be. sometimes i get scared. and for the most part ashley did just what babes should do, just kiss me and say, “i know tony is really in there, im gonna rub your lamp and wait for the genie to come out. oh, i see something is stirring, not sure if that’s a genie or not.”

probably the thing that did me in was her relationship with her first boyfriend ever. shes so idealistic about it. they both love the same music and a lot of the same ideals and when i was twenty i thought that it was those sorts of extraneous similarities that make a relationship work, but now i know it’s super basic generalities like: are you into me, do you want me, can you talk to me, do you trust me, do you want this to work out?

if both people are like, hell yeah, to all of those, All of them, then it doesn’t matter if shes into rock and you’re into rachmaninoff, the differences will be good things and you’ll make beautiful music together.

of those things i think the two most important are trust and communication.

trust, not like, “is this person gonna bang the next ho who says he’s cute,” but trust meaning, “i don’t really understand that theory, but i’ll go with it, cuz he seems to believe in it.”

often i think that relationships are like spelunking in a super dark jaggedy cave filled with sleeping monsters. do you want to get out of there? do you want to enjoy the journey? are you into talking each other through it? do you trust that the other person knows what the hell they’re saying when they say “50 feet ahead is a hole, when you feel the slime jump as far as you can in the dark to the right”? and are you sure you want to be doing this with me?

i totally enjoyed jumping through he murky darkness after the slime in the dark with the daisy girl from another world.

a few weeks after breaking up with chris i took a flight to vegas to meet ashley for the first time and i was scared to death that the nineteen year old glittergirl would not at all be into me. i can be somewhat entertaining on paper, or in a chat, and sometimes on the phone, but in real life i don’t have any cue cards, writing staff, or delete button to help my shit out, it’s just me.

she was a blonde glow. a poof of hair and smile and cuteness and girlieness for days. it was ten pm when i picked her up at her daddy’s house and she was as bright as the sun running out of that mansion and into my rental car. i shoulda brought my sunglasses.

weezer’s “dope nose” came on as we left the second security checkpoint of her gated community and headed towards the dairy queen and normally i don’t eat very much, but i remember not eating hardly anything because ashley looked so much better in person than in her pictures, which was shocking since she had given me hundreds of pictures during the four months that we had been chatting.

am i happy that shes moving on with her life?

of course.

do i secretly hope that she will figure out that you can love someone and not looooooooove them and be able to come over some dark and stormy night and molest them in their sleep with the christmas lights flashing and the boom box blasting and the books falling off the shelves?

what do you think?

did i cry last night? did i ask her nice to spend the night with me, no monkey business, even though it meant that she would have to wake up at 6am to make it back to the orange curtain to get to her new job? was she sweet enough to say yes even though she hates waking up any time before 2pm?

am i still the luckiest man in the world?

well for the answer to that question, and many more, i guess you’ll have to stay tuned.

same dork time.

same dork channel.