Daily Archives: December 30, 2003

raymi wrote me an email today.

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you know how nice that is?

and not once did she mention that shes auctioning off some of her art on ebay.

i love raymi.

she told me her real name but i just say raym…

and then she cuts *me* off

which i never allow, usually

but thank Jesus for the exceptions.

im watching paris hilton on the simple life mini marathon.

this is about the third time ive seen these episodes. i dont know what im trying to discover.

maybe im trying to find a flaw in paris hilton on any level. my girl can wear heels anywhere. thats pretty cool.

she looks good in bad clothes. thats hard to do.

one of my new years resolutions will be to write every night right after work.

it only took me two hours to write this.

and that is why i have this resolution.

i hope raymi makes a fortune on her art.

some guy just wrote me and told me that hed pay me five bucks if i told him to fuck himself.

i also got an email from amy from jaylex. that was pretty amazing.

never really realized what a good day today was.

on the subway home, waiting for the subway actually, a woman just started talking. telling people things in a little louder than necessary volume.

i never knew you could have a baby at thirteen.

its bad enough i dont have any teeth, but now im a thirty nine year old granny.

i know these two sentences because she said them over and over.

he called me up and said mom, i just had a baby.

i mean i never knew that you could have a baby at thirteen

it was straight out of slacker

she walked the entire length of the platform and came pretty close to trying to look every one of the fourty or so of us in the eye and tell us that she had no teeth that she was thirty nine that her son was thirteen and now she was a granny.

and that she didnt know that you could have a baby at thirteen.

i wonder if the guy who wants me to tell him to fuck off knows that my rate for that little service is twenty five, thank you.

video of the year + via makeoutcity

i like it when people are obsessed with me.

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i like it when people talk about me on their blog and other peoples blogs, and in my comments.

i like it when they become cocky and then eventually frustrated and pissed off when i wont address their silly requests.

talk about me all you want, blogosphere, it only adds to the hype.

anna kournikova taught me three things:

you will never be as bad as people try to make you out as being

you will never be as cool as people swear that you are

the worst thing that people can do is ignore you.

there are far more ghost blogs than kickass blogs and the ghost blogs are written by people who couldnt figure out how to get people to come to their url or get people worked up about their good name.

some fall for the fakeouts, some take the bait. dont take bait. especially when the bait is nothing more than fat dirty nightcrawlers sold for pennies by children.

if people talk shit about you and theyre way off base, just take their little spitballs and keep on keeping on.

when they try so hard to convince you that youre boring, theyre lying.

ignore the liars.

liars will take you places you dont wanna go.

heres where you wanna go

you wanna drive the lane

go for the hole

keep your bald head down charles barkley and go for the hole

dont listen to the male cheerleaders

keep your elbow out

fake right go left

switch hands

get scratched

dunk.

completely unrelated, a funny thing happened last night. our girl brand trueboy who recently outted herself as hosting a blog that didnt have three writers, but only had one, her, pretending to be three people – ended her whatever-it-was against me.

i give her major props for ending the feud, and i will either take a picture of my nuts like she requested or i will have a civilized aol chat with her which you will see in the first issue of Lick sometime next month.

rock on, trueboy. happy holidays.

bing + blamb + muscle 68

picked up my true love at the airport last night.

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i dont recommend anyone going to LAX to pick up anyone unless youre xbi, and even then its hairy.

i know i exaggerate a lot on here and i say things about her being my truest, but when i saw her yesterday there definitely was something special there.

it’s freaky.

if i ever do get married i want that feeling from my bride. its a calming effect. its a submissive thing. its a whatever-you-want-is-coolio vibe.

she said pick me up at ten pm i said anywhere. she said LAX i said no one is allowed in. she said you can do it. save me. i saved her. she said take me to taco bell. i said baby i already have your seven layer burrito in the back seat. she said i love you. i said i love you too babydoll.

i told her she looked good. she said have you been drinking i said doesnt matter, i know a hot girl when i see one.

she said, stop that, ive been travelling for 8 hours.

i said lil tone hasnt been drinkin and lil tone approves.

i watched her eyes move down to where lil tone was saying hi and she smiled.

blue eyes matching her nicely filled out blue sweater.

stars sparkling in the crisp la winter night.

angels pulling back a little of the sky so they could peek.

i kissed her cheek

i kept my face against hers.

i moved my hands slowly down the small of her back to her jlo.

she complained that her place was messy and boring and smelly and i said baby your place is perfect. she said i cant believe you took karisa here. i said she loved it. we loved it. i said i told karisa that this is where my truest lives, isnt it great and karisa said i never knew it was so big and bright and sunny.

my true love said yes it is sunny.

we drove back to my place holding hands, talking nonstop, catching up.

her wesssside businesswoman cold-as-ice seriousness slowly melting as we drove east down the ten and went north on the 110 past staples.

i might find a better person for me one day.

maybe it’ll be before the next snowfall in vegas.

cpt scurvy + mad mathias + welch’s resolutions

my problem is, i like smart people.

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beastie boys palladium hollywood

not sucker mcs. not people who dare me. ooooo a dare. what is this, fifth grade. and anyway, i make the fucking dares around here.

they come to me saying theyve never read my shit but i suck. they say who’s tony pierce like they dont know. they know. my hairs soft and its coming back so call it a comeback. my problem is that i get distracted easilly. especially by nothingness.

theres a new radio station in town. independent one they say even though my bro on franklin avenue says its clearchannel owned. all i know is theyve played the clash and bob marley and even though this is their only hit, theyre playing social d and kroq hasnt played them in a while so fuck kroq, they never loved tsar enough anyway.

my problem is i like super smart people. id work at jpl if they wanted me to. id sharpen the pencils or clean the blackboards if thats all i could do there. a thinktank. a brainbank. anywhere other than the xbi which used to be what im lookin for but things change right before your eyes and suddenly the only thing the same is you and the address. my problem is im a dumbass.

my problem is i attract people who think they know what punk rock is.

punk rock.

yoko was punk rock.


michael jackson last night on 60 minutes was punk rock.

dressed and sounding like my grandma admitting to sleeping with kids as if of course its cool

of course

courtney was punk but now shes a rock star and its boring sidney. not that there are very many rock stars either but youve been to the mountaintop lady.

represent.

my problem is im riddled with idealism. my problem is i keep thinking that i will always be understood precisely every single time the first time. my problem is i forget that some pretend like they dont understand, when indeed they understand perfectly.

i forget that others want to be creeps.

i forget that sometimes a few arent creeps, they just say or do fucked up things without realizing and they dont expect a nuclear bomb exploding after they touch the timebandits toaster which is clearly marked dont touch.

clearly.

shes crafty is on now.

my problem is sometimes i forget that some people dont ever get what i get. ever. and i tell em that i know i dont understand it but they swear they dont read this shit anyway even though they do but maybe they really did miss that day.

its okay.

my problem is i listen to the static in the signal to noise. my problem is i get lost in the silences. my problem is i keep following the failed practices traditional widgetpushing which is hype, build awareness, hype, deliver. when everyone knows you should just clear your throat and reveal curtain number lick, say ta-da, and put your hands on your hips.

dare you to the the truth the whole truth and nothing

but my biggest problem is that time owns me

im its bitch.

and like a bitch, watch me stop what im doing and go off and do nothing so i can wake up n take a bus to an office

in the cold morning

beside the white

chickens

franklin avenue + hobo chic + viriginia