you do what you should do all the time, saints,

be polite.

hi work.

lots of ways you can find out if your work is on your web site.

easiest way, of course, are IP addresses.

they’ll tell you when, who, and for how long.

i dont care if my work reads my blog, i just wish they would believe that nothing in here is true. but no one does.

other than that i have no problem with my job, despite what lies i might write on here.

half way through my little talking-to by some of my superiors this morning, i was about to tell them the truth, i was about to say, dude, if i didnt complain about something, people would think im living this fucking perfect life and they woudnt be able to relate to me, so i lie about having a crappy job that doesnt appreciate me.

it’s storytelling.

but then they started saying some odd things.

so i didnt say anything.

i kept pretending that i didnt like my job.

which has been so good to me.

you should see my desk, my huge window, my huge computer monitor, bagels on thursdays.

they send all these pretty girls by just to be nice to me.

even the dudes come by and say nice things.

they got the IT department to cruise through from time to time and hook me up, and the facilities department keeps the place perfectly temperaturized

even the janitors address me by name

and you should see the guy who wears the vest outside the garage

he always says good bye to me.

i got friends in the media center, in research, in rights & clearances, legal, sales

lord knows the eReps got my back.

and i got theirs.

what makes me so curious though is, when the cubs were in the playoffs i got a little distracted, and im not as smart as you might think, so i have to concentrate super hard.

so when the cubs were in the playoffs, i made a few mistakes and got in trouble.

cuz at the xbi you cant really make any mistakes.

especially if your me.

cuz you know why

cuz nobody wants me at the xbi

you dont either.

any time i write anything about it, you all pretty much say, fuck the xbi.

and sometimes i want to say it too, and today i felt like george bush and iraq

i wanted to give up and go home, but it would have been for the wrong reason

and id be driven out by the wrong people.

over the last few years, any anxiety that i would ever have about romantic relationships have disappeared. they have all been wonderful, loving, perfect.

sure there have been some ups and downs. but mostly ups and hardly ever anything devastating.

but during that same amount of time i have struggled, friends, with my relationship with my employers and it troubles me worse than anything ive ever experienced with a woman.

unlike my love affairs, at work i give everything.

and i definitely work harder at the xbi and at my last job, than i do on this blog or my site.

and both places, just when you thought someone was going to say, you know what man, nice work. and great job doing it under pressure. just when you thought that was coming, something very odd was said.

like youre fired.

they didnt say that today but they also didnt say hey nice work under pressure as the shit was going down as you learned new dance moves for foreign songs.

the receptionists took me outside for an american spirit though.

nice girls.

but you know i dont smoke.

and that nothing in here is true.

i couldnt imagine a better job for me. im in the middle of everything. im busy constantly. im loved, and very well taken care of.

i come in early, and i leave late. i tell jokes, and smile, and work hard at hard work.

theyve done everything that they can do to get me out of chopper one and writing for the company newsletter, but i dont want to. no matter how dangerous fighting the crime that i fight is, and no matter how thankless it can be, it’s the job that ive been given, and im not going to leave it until i leave a total champ.

before the xbi there was no busblog.

and dont forget it.

alecia made a new photo essay + ben’s daily + bastard family

at the silverlake lounge? right there on sunset? for free?

im not sure if i will be able to make it since i apparently have a Blook to put out, for your asses.

thank you for the nice feedback and emails and phone calls.

my advisor called me and said, are you kidding? there has to be a Blook II! what would william carlos williams do?

and, as always, she was right. thats why i always listen to her.

Breaking Busblog News

the MTA strike is now over!

according to NBC LA channel 4, some of the busses will return tonight, and the subways and the rest of the busses will return to service in the morning.

to my buddy Ben, and to my pal Liana and everyone who has picked me up hitchhiking, I thank you.

so much.

and MTA if you ever strike again, I will let the air out of your tires.

and i will put graffiti on your seat cushions.

meanwhile Britney finally got her much deserved hollywood walk of fame star.

our petitions have paid off america!

mine said, Dont Let Britney Live to be 22 without a Tsar.

i meant Star but you know about my typing problems.

in other news our new governor got sworn in.

and in other news i got 900 pieces of spam into my inbox while i slept last night.

p.s. i still hate my job.

pps. this just in from the florida orange grower girl who went to see britney get her star

modelbabe: I am sore today

modelbabe: by the way!

modelbabe: a black guy tried to pick up on me when I was watching Britney

modelbabe: he asked me if I was J Lo’s sister

modelbabe: I just kept looking away

modelbabe: then he said, “what? you got a problem with brothers?

modelbabe: and I said, “no, I didn’t have problem with one last night”

dumbme: nice!

modelbabe: and he said….awwww, so thats how it is, the another brother got to you first

modelbabe: he also asked me if I was mixed with black

modelbabe: I said, only at night

then she took a few more pics of britney getting her star

are you at all interested in Blook II: for your ass?

maybe im going through all this hassle for nothing. it is a hassle. i really hate reading my old stuff.

and it will be a hassle at the printer, cuz he doesnt like me coming in with word documents on a cd.

and it will be a hassle cuz i will have to have someone come over and help me pick up the crates of books.

and then i will have to go to the mail box every day and ship them all out.

so my question is, do you people want a Blook 2?

im particularly interested in hearing from the people who got Blook last year. do you want another one?

you can be honest.

and the price will be about the same: $20 which includes shipping.

do you really want to pay for something that youve been getting free all year?

is this something that if i can get printed before thanksgiving, that you would buy as gifts for your family and friends?

and finally is there intrest in a second printing of the original Blook?

personally i couldnt care one way or the other. i have no internal desire to have Blook 2 sitting on my bookshelf next to Blook. i know i made those things. i cant say i picked up the first Blook more than twice this year. and when i did, i actually did like what i read, but i winced at a few things i wrote.

i enjoy creating a lot more than reminiscing.

so please, feel free to use the comments to express your deepest truths about this matter.

thanks in advance,

tony

gnome-girl + oliver + negro please

about anything.

didnt find out till this morning what this super hot chick did for a living. turns out she works for the florida orange growers. she was sent out here for two purposes: (1) to model at their annual convention which this year is oddly in california, (2) to convert me from an apple juice drinker to an orange juice drinker.

unbeknownst to her, and her handlers, the florida orange growers convention isnt going to be here till next weekend. so this weekend all she did was laze around my place in a variety of lingerie, eating cinnasticks from dominoes, flipping through my tivo, and making sweet lust to me during my work breaks.

i was working on Blook Two

for your ass.

we did it so much that this morning i woke up early and said, baby i dont think i can give it to you today, i hope you dont mind. and she said, i dont mind. and we listened to morning radio and laid there and i felt her up and she moaned a tiny bit. but not much. she pushed her ass up against me. pefect florida orange grower model ass. no panties. ever.

she asked me to grab her tighter if i was gonna grab her.

i was beat though.

last night we watched Mystery Train off tivo. she’d never seen any jarmusch and since we did it to tom waits sunday morning i figured we would continue the theme with a movie where we hear my gravely voiced hero but didnt see him.

i fell asleep in her arms like i normally do when i watch movies with hot chicks.

i didnt write much on my site, and i didnt edit much of Blook even though she was a very good guest and didnt ask much of me and slept as she fought against her jet lag.

i tried to get motivated by drinking rum right out of the bottle and smoking from a long hunter s thompson cigarette holder, but nothing worked. i should have just laid on that couch in that sweet girls arms and found out every little thing about her.

i told her that i would drink more orange juice, i went to the market and got some frozen pulp free cans, but im drinking nantucket nectars pressed apple right now.

some habits are hard to break.

she told me that the florida orange growers saw that most of my hits come around breakfast time (9a – noon, pacific) and that if i talked about how much i like orange juice that maybe that would influence people into drinking more orange juice.

i told her she was nuts. i told her that my readers were smarter than that. that if they wanted to drink coffee in the morn, or tea, that nothing that i did would sway them.

she says its not about that. its about perception. its about the 18-34 demographic.

i told her that if she got a web page and started drinking oj in her bikini

she interrupted me and said, we dont say oj

i was all, thats fucked up.

she said, what? hes a murderer.

i was like, bitch, the glove didnt fit.

she was all, lets not fight.

i was all, fuhrman said the n word.

she was all, comeon, the blood trail, the dna, the cuts on his hands, the abuse, the 911 call.

i was all, he was banging a playboy playmate, he wouldnt murder a woman who he had been doing since she was 18 because at thirty something she wanted to hump a waiter.

then she said, tony, lets not fight.

then she made me a mimosa.

no pulp.

and we kissed.

bunnie + flagrant + virginia’s first photo essay!