so thank you. and thank you to all the people who turned you onto the busblog.

lots of what i do here is an experiment. the first “blogs” that i read werent really blogs, they were web sites written and designed by cam girls. they were beautifully designed, beautifully updated, very smart, and better blogs than what most of whats out there.

many of those cam girls arent around any more, but a few are, notably my favorite, nay.

anyways what i learned from those girls is if you ask something from your audience you might just get it.

of course it helped if you were young, beautiful, and had an audience of horny old men, but my idealistic mind thought “if a dude was really the shit, he could get some of what those cam girls are getting too.” so pretty much right away i started asking my readers for anything that i thought the cam girls were getting – love, attention, comments, gifts, pics, etc.

it wasnt because i thought i was the shit, it was purely because i thought if one blogger without a penis could get it, one with one should be able to get it too.

it was silly but life is silly and sure enough ive gotten pretty much everything that ive wanted off this blog.

ultimately i would like to earn a living off this blog, without asking money from all of you. advertising is pretty much the only way i can see this happening – sponsorship is the other. since i dont see a lot of other bloggers being sponsored by one or two corporations, advertising is going to have to be the means to the ends.

i bring this up because we are approaching the year anniversary of ads on the busblog. and as you can see from the left hand side i dont have any blogads currently on the sidebar, but i do have some text ads.

i must say that i am impressed that not too many of you have called me a sell out or have bitched or have asked me about my gold rimmed caddy. in fact i can count the haters on one hand. if not one pinky. for that i am grateful.

as an airsign my biggest dream in life is freedom. this year i have lost a sponsor because i bashed bush but ive gained dozens of sponsors for being who i am. and my readership has stayed steady at around 50,000 page views a month.

for all of you who have stuck by me during this very turbulent twelve months i thank you from the bottom of my heart. for those of you who have been on the busblog for even longer than that i am grateful for even longer than eternity.

and for all of you hot babes who have sent me nudes, and videos, and soiled undies, just know that youve kept me away from tall bridges.

finally for all of you who donated to the ipod fund. you shit will be coming soon. trust me. and thank you for your patience.

tonight i will be going to see th dodgers with my old college buddy asher from austin, owner of the austin rock club Room 710 on red river. and it will be a joy to see baseball with someone who knows the game. even i get depressed sometimes and i forget how lucky i am. today im remembering.

  below, there will be reruns

balloon boy came from another town entirely. one where fences were made of crackers, trees were made of wood, and beer came right out of sky. the nerds had invented zero gravity luncheon meats but since the town was riddled with vegans the only way to sell any was to throw in a puppy and or a child.

sales had always been phillipes trade. when he graduated college he was immediately hired by a multi billion dollar conglomerate who gave him a company car, some business cards and a terroritory that spanned across his entire state.

his job was to convince salesmen to sell his company’s product.

often times the salesmen would look at the babyfaced company man and say why should we sell your crappy crap, sony makes better crap and they pay more commission

now the funny thing about this job was no one could actually measure whether phillipe was successful because at the time there was a terrible recession and nobody anywhere in the country was buying anyones crappy crap, not sonys, not tonys, not anyones

but philippe didnt want to be embarrassed standing right there in the middle of nowhere in this retail outlett in the woods, where no one was buying anything anyway

so he said its all about closing ratio

if you can sell a sony to everyone go right ahead, but not everyone can afford one and not everyone wants one.

i dont want nike shoes because they exploit their workers and then turn around and sell the most expensive sneakers on the market.

this got the attention of the manager who had been doodling and pretending to ignore the young factory rep.

simmer down over there, he warned.

the name of this game is service plans anyway and some salespeople have been known to be successful saying yes sir you can have this giant screen tv and a five year in home warantee for less than what that sony costs before tax, im not telling you what to do, im just saying.

and just like that phillipe didnt care any more and asked the group where he could get a good salad in town.

and hed drive through the woods in his taurus, adjust his tie, and snake through the last remains of real nature in america and ask himself if he wouldnt be better off sitting infront of his computer writing movie reviews on the web.

since no one has really cornered that market yet.

probably because most movie reviewers blow.

remember the fourth star wars. the one with jar jar. where was the movie reviewer who got on his typewriter and said

you know what fuck you george lucas

as phillipe drove through the mountains he said i could be just that reviewer and here i am stuck in the middle of nowhere listening to the same damn cds i always listen to, drinking carbonated sugar water thats gonna kill me, and hoping that that chick ive been emailing all these months isnt really a man.

thats no life for me.

but phillipe had a.d.d. and was soon distracted by something shiny. it was a AAA sticker on the back of a late model cadillac. he wondered, if you have a AAA card whats the use of the sticker on the bumper? they’ll still fix your shit without the sticker on the bumper. wont they?

he wanted to puke.

he knew not to trust the diner waitress who assured him that the dressing was nondairy but it tasted dairy and now in his stomach it felt dairy.

nothing with faces
mix all the races
the daring young man
on mysterious traipses
im not sure exactly quite
where this is going
glad to get paid
but love was not made
dont come back here mister
until you get laid