like throw a virus into the internet that fucks up a bunch of computers, or cause a major pileup on a freeway, or help phil collins release a new cd, some of the arch devils will let you go to a raider game.

i was bad last week but not that bad.

two of the guys who got to go came back this morning and told us all how great it was.

i was super jealous cuz i love the raiders.

the best gift i ever got was a long time ago my old girlfriend got me Raiders / Broncos Monday Night tickets and she was so cool that she didnt even make me take her, she said i could take one of my housemates.

i love that girl.

theres lots of ways to make it back to Earth temporarilly. you can get a guest pass, like the pictured demons did, or you can get a little assignment, like when i had to be a santa claus in the mall that one day.

but sometimes you can come back to Earth on a permanant basis, the only catch is you are either disfigured in one way or another or you get a lame job.

lots of famous people are actually Damned Souls who worked out a deal where they could spend their time on Earth as opposed to shoveling coal, like im doing today, in the Depths.

Alan Greenspan is a great example.

Alan wanted to do a good job on Earth but his punishment for being an asshole in his past life is being a total imbecile in this life.

Which is why he has lost trillions of dollars in the economy as the Fed Chairman.

Some might think that he would want to cripple the US economy, being that he is a demon and all, but no, just the reverse. Some hellions have been known to get a repreive if they do a good job on Earth despited their doomed status. Jack Nicholson is a great example. William S. Burroughs is another.

These are men who were damned, worked out a deal to spend some time on Earth and faught against the devil’s prodding to do evil, and they served mankind with goodness. Sure they lost a few battles and took a golf club to a windshield or murdered a woman, but for the most part they led decent lives and inspired others to follow suit.

I got an offer last night to come back to Earth as an AIDS baby, but i declined. I’ll wait for something better to come up, like be a Black Republican Senator or something slightly evil like that.

speaking of evil, i saw hitler at the gym on saturday.

i said, hi hitler.

he grumbled.

you’d think he’d be a big wig here, but he’s not, his assignment was to take over the world and he failed. he’s considered a failure. he hands out towels outside the sauna.

sorta ironic, but not really.

i kneed him in the nuts.

he couldnt do anything since he was chained to a rock.

ive been getting into a few fights down here.

its all good.

dawn olsen

hi.

i think we should go out.

we’re both air signs and if you believe in that stuff, we’re super compatible.

a few problems are in our way for true love, of course, but that could be the case for any two people.

biggest problem i would imagine is my age.

im 109.

if youre into older men then i guess its ok. its ok with me, if you were wondering. ive dated girls in their early 20s for most of my life.

the other minor problem is im dead.

and im in hell.

but we can work that out later.

my turn-ons? i like to make out in hot air balloons. i like good food. good friends. short walks on the beach. and i really like blogging.

because nothing on my blog is true, you dont have to worry about me giving away any of your secrets cuz noone would believe it anyway.

my turn-offs? hell, hell-related activities, back pain, carpal tunnel, major newspapers who wont hire me even though i beg them through blog entries, death, and the sad decline of kroq 106.7.

im a fun loving, caring, sensitive poet with a mellow disposition and a good computer loaded with tons of mp3s.

strangely, anna, i know very little about you.

so please feel free to write me at annalovestony@tonypierce.com

nice work beating Henrieta Nagyova earlier today in the Austrailian Open 6-1, 6-2.

p.s. i lust you.

tony

jack bog

dear la times

hi, my name is tony. i’ve written you before.

i really need a new job and i would really like to work for you.

all my friends bash you and i can understand their point of view. but me, i think that sometimes it’s a little easy to bash the biggest target on the block.

i want to work for you, i want to make everything better, i want to make a little more money than i make now, but most importantly i want to rock.

dont you want to rock?

of course you want to rock.

i like what youre doing with the format and design of the paper. what it says to me is that you want to be different than before, you want to be better, you want to throw out the old and bring in the new.

im new! im new! im new!

and im old.

ive been around the block, la times. i have. i swear i have.

i have something to say and i know how to say it.

young and olde alike say that im a good writer and normally i dont believe them but sometimes i do and when i do it pisses me off to no end that i cant get a job doing what i love to do which is writing.

i want to be the new school mike royko. is that so bad?

let me write obituaries for you like he did when he started out. i dont care.

but eventually let me write a daily blog on your website because i think the good people of the world would love to know whats happening in LA that doesnt get covered in the paper or on tv or on any of the hollywood tv shows or even on E!

all my life i have totally enjoyed finding the cracks and filling them in.

so much slips inside those cracks thats worthy of exposure and now we’re seeing on tv that tons of stuff that were never before believed to be Important or Professional or Interesting or capable of getting ratings are hugely popular.

when i was a lad there was news on tv at 5pm, 6pm, and 10pm and thats it. there was no espn. now there are multiple news channels and multiple sports channels.

why hasnt pro journalism also expanded in the daily paper?

why isnt the young voice represented in a column, and how come there are a million blogs and none on your web site?

i am tired, of waiting, la times.

im dying out here.

somethings got to give and i swear to you it’s killing me.

please save my life.

if you dont im going to have to work at fatburger and wear a paper hat and i cant go for that, noooo, no can do.

your next big thing,

tony

la times

she’s 21 now. my but does time fly.

her friends picked her up and took her to several bars and they drank and in the morning they had crepes and saw “chicago”. she was upset that none of her friends from her drew barrymore web site said happy birthday to her and i appeared into a dream of hers and told her it was cuz all of her friends were jealous of her popularity and assumed that popular people didnt need to be told happy birthday to.

she sobbed and said that she isnt as popular as people think and she loves being told happy birthday to.

so i told her that i would put her email address on my blog so that people could wish her happy birthday.

daisyprincess4@aol.com

my weekend in hell was pretty good, considering.

in hell its normal to add “considering” at the end of most of your sentences.

i had a beautiful dream that lots of my friends came over to my old apartment and we barbequed and watched the raiders trounce the jets. and we drank and ate and chris brought over brownies and jeanine and kim tried to see who could be skinnier and karisa came over with her pal liz and some dog peed in someones purse and people laughed but then got sad cuz there was a lot of pee, i mean a lot.

then a hot 21 year old girl came over in my dream and watched High School Reunion with me and Best In Show on Tivo and we fell asleep on the couch like little monkeys all tangled up and then we woke up and made beautiful lust.

but then, alas, i arose from my dark cave this morning with no beautiful young girl going down on me, no soft bed to recline in, no remote controlled operated stereo system to drown out the low moans, no towel to wipe off with, no howard stern to drive to work with.

all i had was a little flow of lava to block the entrance to the community shower of slime and a cold of artic wind to welcome me to the working week, and a terribly sore back to remind me that i am old and in a bad place.

and it’s only monday.

gweilo diaries