today is angelina jolie’s twenty ninth birthday,

so she asked me to write a post about riding the bus since she says its her favorite part of reading the busblog.

its funny she had such a request because today was a fascinating day on the los angeles metro rapid transit system.

since i spent the night at clipper girl’s house i walked over to the los feliz metro station and waited for the elevator to take me down to the subway. the mexican lady kept the elevator button mashed in as if it would speed things along. now you know why the elevators are always broken i hissed in spanish.



two things that irritate me when i ride the subway. one is dudes with bikes during rush hour in the subway, the other are people with suitcases. they clog up any open space. if youre taking the la subway to the airport youre a loser. and as sk smith would say, i hope you get the clap. and if youre riding your bicycle after you get off the subway during rushour youre a double loser. a loser squared. i hope your bike seat racks you in front of a park bench full of hotties.

sat on the cement bench and waited for the train to arrive. i cracked open a book i just got off ebay, mooch by dan fante. hes awesome. i should bake a pie for my neighbor for turning me on to him.

train finally arrives and a woman runs down to the far end of the train to get a seat. dumb ho. theres lots of seats on the subway, no need to run to the less-crowded cars. cant avoid the minorites anyway, lady. we’re going to sit next to you no matter where you try to hide.

“what book are you reading,” this kid asks me.

i tell him.

“mooch? is that a bad word?”

there are no bad words i tell him.

“sure there are, nigger, spic, fucker…” he says. hes got a white undershirt on. big, baggy, xxxl black pants. shaved head. gangster 101 outfit. wifebeater underneath his undershirt. huge gold crucifix around his neck. tattoo of the virgin mary under his left ear.

those arent bad words, i tell him. those are great words.

now everyone is listening.

i continue: theyre good words because theyre descriptive and powerful. if three white guys are playing bridge with a black dude and someone says, hey wheres juan, and someone says, oh my nigga is right over there with those jagoffs, then you know immediately which one juan is.

the train stopped at wilshire and western and i got off to a car full of gaping mouths.

but i was right and my new friend and i touched knuckles and took on the day.

aluminum foil cubicle + zulieka made it home safe + i will never blog for nike

if anna finds out she will be pissed

but tonight i actually left my home and drank at a bar with karisa.

and i had a great time.

anna gets a little uptight because she says i never want to go out and party with her or her friends. and she gets the way most women get and tries to compare situations with other women that i know and she will say something, im sure, like, “sure you go out to bars with karisa, but why wont you do that with me?”

without realizing of course that for three years now, whenever karisa and i hang out its usually at my place, its usually boring, and its usually in front of the tv. just like im with everyone. just like im with her. just like im with my closest and not-so-closest friends.

i do get stuck in little ruts. i do like consistency. i dont like spending $12 on two shots. i dont like fighting the crowds. and i really dont like it when ms kournikova compares herself with any of the young ladies that i hang out with. cuz everyones different. and even im different with everyone.

karisa and i havent seen each other for ages. i was beginning to forget what she looked like. but when i walked into our secret favorite little dive bar off hollywood blvd i was all oh yeah, shes hot.

waiting in front of her was a mostly full pitcher of natty light. one glass almost full, one glass chilled empty. the doors were playing on the jukebox. what more could a man want at 10pm on a thirsty thursday?

karisa had a baseball shirt on. sleeves cut off just below the shoulders. tight. some sort of pants. low cut everything. i usually dont look at her for fear of finding her attractive, but i wanted to make sure that it was really her and not just some of the other many thousands of super hot babes who end up in bars in hollywood on any given night and if you think im exaggerating you better check yourself.

tony pierce, she said.

karisa j. i said right back.

we hugged. we smiled. we went right at it. we drank. we yapped. we bore confidences. we did lemondrops. we listened to the good tunes. we did all the things that two super good friends do who havent caught up in what must have been a month. shit had it been a month? maybe it was a month.

karisa asked how it was going with anna. i told her it was pretty good. i told her it looked like she was done with old whatshisfuck. she told me about her man. about this cool thing theyre going to do at cinespace this weekend. movies, wine, food, etc. theyre high rollers. she told me about her job. i told her about this new book i got off ebay, john fante’s son’s book. time flew.

and in the end i said we really cant be spending months away from each other and she said youre so right and i said good and she said lets hook up next week and i said ok not meaning it but karisa if youre reading this i mean it, next week is cool.

although i have lots of friends there are a few that mean so much to me, and karisa is right there. i have my college friends and somehow karisa snuck in that mix as far as super important friends.

anna is a whole nother beast. she and i have the best sex. she told me she loved me the other day. i was started. i said what about gayboy. she said i like him and hes cute and i said yeah but he doesnt deliver does he and she didnt say anything and i want the best for her. and its weird that i dont mind that she dates him or others, but maybe i just dont feel worthy. maybe i see her and i think fuck youre anna kournikova you could do so much better than just an above average blogger. but maybe thats all you get when you have everything else.

so tonight anna and i have a little date and she said you better seal up the windows cuz im going to make some noise. and yesterday i got a postcard from bunnie which i almost typed as being a boastcard, which is actually closer to the truth. then i made a kickass guns greatest hits.

Yesterdays – Use Your Illusion II

Patience – Lies

Don’t Cry – Use Your Illusion I

Live and Let Die – Use Your Illusion I

Raw Power – The Spaghetti Incident?

You’re Crazy – Appetite for Destruction

Since I Don’t Have You – The Spaghetti Incident?

Welcome To The Jungle – Live Era ’87 – ’93

Paradise City – Live Era ’87 – ’93

Nightrain – Live Era ’87 – ’93

Sweet Child o’ Mine – Appetite for Destruction

Rocket Queen – Appetite for Destruction

Mama Kin – Lies

Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door – Use Your Illusion II

November Rain – Use Your Illusion I

Used To Love Her – Lies

tyranny + greg vaine and the carter family