Anything you say, Mr. Trump
tony, i love the world famous, can we watch the crazy DNC Convention here?
Reply
Monthly Archives: July 2016
tony why, damnit, whyyyyyyyyy?
Felicia from Reseda asks: Why are you such a fucking slob? Are you really THAT lazy or does life just have NO meaning for you? Do you not care what others think of you because YOU don’t give a rat’s ass about yourself? Do you have self-respect? Do you LOVE TONY? Is eating right and exercising and grooming yourself and dressing NEAT (not necessarily nice or sexy!) THAT much of a CHORE/EFFORT? Or, does all that shit take up too much of your valuable time and keep you from blogging and social networking?
time is the most valuable thing we have. that and our blogs.
am i a slob? to some. but it’s a messy thing, not a dirty thing. theres no mold. the maid takes care of the dirt and germs.
me, i love print products: newspapers, magazines, polaroids, paper plates, plastic cups, and the like.
me, i dont love wasting my days hiding things. hiding things in rows, in boxes, in clear cubes, in closets. me, i like finding things. and if they are on the floor, awesome. if i can find the camera, for example, and two pretty girls are on my bed pretending to be bored outta their gourds, then hi, click!
does life have NO meaning to me? i have a feeling felicia youre gonna hate this answer, but when you read the Good Book you will see it taught many times that this life does have meaning, but it’s merely a stepping stone for Heaven. our riches, our treasures, our real meaty substance that you probably also yearn for is not here. it cannot be organized from goods at the Container Store. i cherish the friendships and miracles that i experience with my friends and loves but they pale in comparison for what this is all leading to. and on my gravestone i doubt it will ever say, he kept a tidy room or omg you shoulda seen his closets.
do i not care what others think about me because i dont give a rat’s ass about myself? excellent question. early in my life i learned that i could care deeply about what others thought of me OR i could not give one crap about that. i chose the latter, precisely because i care about myself. perfect example: when i was but a lad i saw mr. bruce springsteen write and perform one of the biggest most touching records ever: Born in the USA, a show where he sold out the LA Coliseum 4 or 5 times over. thats like a half million people just in LA loving him. he took time out of the show to bring up volunteers from the LA food bank, he performed an anti-war song, and he spoke sincerely and deeply about love, loss, and pink cadillacs. he played each show for four hours and tickets were only like $30.
and still when we got out of the show there were protesters, on the radio there was hate, and in the paper there were articles about the Springsteen Backlash. it taught me very clearly that no matter what you do or say or sing, there will always be haters. you cannot win over everyone. so simply do your best to win over the Lord. and Jesus don’t care if you have old bottles of beer on the wall. he just wants your heart to be pure.
do i have self-respect? probably
do i love myself? frequently
is eating right and exercising and dressing neat that much of a chore? yes and it’s boring and a waste of money. if someone loves fat bald tony with clothes from target they probably love my heart, not my smoke and mirrors, which is way better because theres gonna be another train coming through with better smoke and mirrors any minute now.
dont be fooled by the outside, young skywalker, close yr eyes and feel the force.
hey tony, why is your room a fucking mess?
simple, it confuses burglars
tony are you proud of TONY?
a mysterious stranger at ask lana asks this mysterious question.
Are you proud of TONY? Notice, I didn’t ask: are you proud of your ACCOMPLISHMENTS, but asked if you’re proud of YOU! Mothers and gods aside; I’m not asking if you are WORTHY of someone’s respect or love or admiration; I’m asking if what you think and feel and believe and how you behave and shit makes YOU proud. Pride doesn’t just come from actions; a lot of it comes from how we THINK; our attitudes, not just our personalities. You can have a great PERSONALITY because you have restraint and know enough not to step on any toes or ruffle any feathers; but!!!!! Attitude is that feeling you have about shit on the INSIDE! Are you proud of THAT? Why or why not?
no. none.
pride, like jealousy, is foreign to me and always has been. probably since school when i would write or do something that i thought was spectacular and the teacher would say “meh”. at that point i learned whatever alleged “pride” i had didn’t matter in the formula.
also theres this: the few times i have achieved great success it was always a team effort. thus the feeling i had was Fortunate, not Pride. i was lucky to have been on the lake park high school marching band drum line. i was sooooo lucky to write at the daily nexus. and likewise i was so lucky to get hired and then get to run LAist with all the great people i got to work with. all of those so called individual awards or stories or poems or actions were learned from my surroundings or inspired by the spirit. my input was minimal other than staying out of the way of imminent greatness.
when i went to the Times and we were hugely successful, that was a variety of things: an interesting math theory regarding (frequency of posts By talented reporters Plus SEO plus great editing plus timing multiplied by Digg/Reddit). but none of it would have happened if i was not allowed the green light to try it on all of the desks at the paper (luck times patience). the theories derived not from my head but from the total feedback from the Technorati Top 100: boingboing did it, so lets try it. it had little to do with me.
even when i blog something good on this blog or think about this blog as a whole, pride does not factor in because this is merely an evolution of keeping a diary in school in a wired notebook to creating a web site to then using blogger and now wordpress.
is the farmer proud when the seed and water and dirt makes a fruit? no, he thanks God and moves on.
of course there are exceptions. this is the only one i can think of.
while at UCSB, at the Nexus, i was given an internal award from my peers. they voted me the best arts and entertainment writer of the paper my junior year. i was proud because there were probably 10 other people who could have won that. our paper was stacked. we’d win best in state for that section that next year and the next couple of years.
so to be voted positively by the people i respected the most meant more to me than when i won state the next year for the whole section.
because duh we were better than everyone else, but how were we viewed internally: that always fascinated me.
tony are you sure you’re black?
cynical and new busblog reader Lana [Turner??] from naturobetic has many many questions.
Are you absolutely SURE you’re black? I’m having a hard time buying THAT, too! I saw many pics of you and you only look part black in one. Is your father black or part black? I saw your mother’s pic; she doesn’t look black, either. Were you adopted?
And does “being” black REALLY give you permission to call people the N word? Or even utter the N word? It was wrong for Paula Deen and it’s wrong for you! Or, do you just wish you were black ’cause it’s cool?
the great thing about looks is they are deceiving.
when i was born and until i was in about the third grade i was very light skinned, much like the relatives i had on my fathers side of the family. we think my moms dad is cuban, but he could just be canadian.
you see, the records of black people, are not as detailed as those of other races because, well… guess.
my mother and father are really black. they met at a historically black college in Tennessee because believe it or not, but not that long ago blacks were not allowed to go to a lot of colleges – particularly in the south. even if you were light skinned.
so they went to school, met, fell in love. my dad was the president of his fraternity – a black one. my mom was the star of her sorority (also, black).
and when they got married and had children they had two little black kids. one was light skinned one was dark skinned.
like most kids we visited santa in december – long after any summer tan would have worn off and when i was in 1st grade this is what we looked like. she was clearly darker than me. and freaked out by Mr. Claus
then just a few years later we saw him again and something miraculous happened
she was no longer *much* darker than me. also she had chilled.
and just look how my afro was starting to really get gorgeous.
as i got older i got darker. maybe theres a scientific term for it.
and my afro just got bigger.
so anyway, yes, black. and yes, the shade of my skin has lightened since high school.
it’s weird. but real. it’s not a skin disease. i have no blotchy areas.
but, still, black and beautiful. not adopted.
and with that, yes, i can use the n word. much as i like.
and i can travel freely to any part of town.
plus, when youre light skinned like i am, you can also travel freely to all parts of town.
nowadays, especially since i shave my head, mexicans think im mexicans
middle easterners think im from the middle east.
and people tend to project whatever theyre most comfortable with.
as someone who enjoys being a reporter, it’s a great blessing.
is being black “cool”?
it wasnt when i was a kid
until i made it cool.
tony why are you shy?
new busblog reader Lana [del Rey???] from naturobetic has many many questions. and as you will see, the queries cannot be resolved simply with a yes or a no and she asked that i remain as frank as possible. so the next batch of posts will be her questions, unedited, and my responses, for yr ass
1) Why are you shy (especially in person)? I’ve seen some of your picture; you don’t look like a little kid (anymore). You seem to be at an age where you SHOULD be comfortable in your own skin (so to speak).
Why are you so fucking reserved? It’s good you have restraint and don’t go off on crazy people like me who dare attack the “world famous” busblog but you not being able to tell people what you really mean or what you really want to say (in person) is odd, given you’re almost 100 fucking years old and should have all the confidence and wisdom in the world by now, so as not to fear their reaction(s)!
Why damn it…WHYYYYY?????!!!!!????? What’s REALLY stopping you from “opening up?”
i didnt start off shy. when i was in kindergarten i was seated next to the shiest kid so we would balance each other. i was hyper and bubbly and he was introverted and quietly hilarious. we were best friends throughout school until i moved to sunny california, we are still friends today and will attend a cubs game in a few months.
we also experienced something that affected me a lot more than it affected him. somewhere in grade school he and i and one other person were considered “gifted”. they put us three in a separate classroom and taught us advanced math and science. we got to work on computers. the pace was much quicker. and while it was great to not be so bored in class, i hated being separated from my other friends.
before this happened, we had originally been separated by some of our friends because they put is in “the advanced” classes. that was a little easier because those classes had 20+ kids. but i missed my burnout long haired friends and all the others. but being in a class of 3 — it almost felt like we were being punished for something. also i rejected the idea that the rest of my friends were dumb or slow or whatever the powers that be thought.
so early on i “learned” that to be perceived as smart brought along the exact same results as being perceived as not-smart: isolation, extra work, limited social opportunities, and an unasked for sign over ones head that says Different.
i was already the only black kid in school. why would i want another reason for people to see that i didnt fit in? kids want to feel like they belong. not that theyre aliens.
so one of the indirect lessons i learned from my actual shy friend was if you chill out, you wont stand out, and you wont get kicked out. sadly we both fucked up when we took the standardized test and answered all 500 questions perfectly.
since then i have been reluctant to either give 100%, shine the light super bright, or take off the clark kent glasses because when i do, it can be super annoying for all parties involved.
wear dumb clothes, dont spell check, and for heavens sake study the one thing no one of any sense really cares about: the good book.
for some reason im not shy around journalists.
keira interviews raymi the minx
is there any debate that the queen of canadian blogging is, has been
and probably will forever be Raymi the Minx?
as you know i am a gigantic fan of canadian blogs, canadian blogging
so i say that with all much due respect to all the others up there
shining a light on the great white north.
but raymi has seriously put it out there.
and whats fascinating, she hasnt even put it all out there.
love her or hate her raymi has led by example for the last 16 years
which has arguably been the best 16 years of blogging.
today east coast west coast united in love as
bc’s keira-anne interviews to’s raymi for 20 questions
big in japan
long before their super sweet 80s hit “Forever Young” appeared (beautifully) in “Napoleon Dynamite“,
the german group Alphaville in 1984 released their debut single
“Big in Japan”
a melancholy synth driven curiosity reportedly about two lovers trying to kick heroin.
I will wait here for my man tonight
It’s easy when you’re big in Japan
waiting for the man, a nod for what lou reed was doing on the velvet underground’s debut track two decades previously
Hey, white boy, what you doin’ uptown?
Hey, white boy, you chasin’ our women around?
Oh pardon me sir, it’s the furthest from my mind
I’m just lookin’ for a dear, dear friend of mine
I’m waiting for my man
but really it was about being a loser in your hometown, but it’s ok
because somewhere
in a beautifully magical place
there are people who understand you perfectly and love you
and there you are godhead.
the people of france think i was the editor of the daily nexus.
if only.
but whatevs, merci.
today’s os’s birthday, he’s 24
born to long time kentuckians on the allegheny river on a river boat in a flood,
os is building a recording studio on the banks of his shallow end
and even though this isnt what i said to him when i saw how beautifully it was coming along
this is what i would like
i would like all of our friends to record all of their songs in the studio
and call it the sugarfoot sessions.
what i said was
how much do those little water sprinklers cost
hanging from the ceiling in case something catches fire
the answer was
woooo boy.
id also like the friends to record the songs of other bands
the bands that cant be with us, but who should be re recorded
because no one else is gonna do it
and it would be a shame to let those great tunes
just fade away.
when i didnt tell him all of that, his oldest child was playing soccer
in his baseball uniform.
technically it was his all star uniform for he was about to play in an all star game.
i said, you know what people remember the most from their all star games?
he said what. the boy’s 10 years old. by the way. where does time go?
i said fights.
fight em all.
the inside of that plate is yours.
lean in and if they plunk you, charge the mound.
not sure if os agreed but he didnt disagree.
hey tony, how havent you gotten married yet?
dear tony,
ive read your blog. ive read your tweets, ive seen your instagrams,
ive read your palm, ive audited your taxes, ive investigated your tarot.
you are a libra on the scorpio cusp. bad moon rising.
you’re healthy, semi-wealthy, and wise.
you have no problem talking with women or making even the most uncooperative of us smile.
you’re nearly 100 years old (black sure dont crack). so why havent you gotten married ever?
my guess: you are afraid of commitment, intimacy, and you hide behind your blog.
signed,
Famous Expert
dear expert,
some of what you say is true. i am wise. and im healthy. the rest, you should do more research.
i am not afraid of anything except the good lord (rightfully) nixxing me from Paradise.
when it comes to romance i go all in. i’ll fly to foreign lands, i’ll fly the lands to me.
i pay for everything. i give up everything.
i do all of the things ive seen other men refuse to do, not because of any other reason than i think its fun.
but there are several outside forces that, if you have truly read this blog, i have laid out repeatedly: the first is the undercover agency the xbi. they like it when i am sans babes. i get to help them save the world when im solo. the second is the angels. sometimes they pull apart the good things that i have going so the young lady can blossom somewhere else outside of my every clutching clutches. and the third is me. i am not as incredible in real life as i am on the www. i dress very badly, i have a spare tire belly, i eat at mcdonalds like every day, and i dont have a jealous bone in my body. believe it or not, that bothers some ladies.
regardless, i do not have the same goals as many on the planet. i do not think a wife, kids, and a minivan is the key to happiness. i think it can bring happiness. and im sure i could have been happy if one thing led to another and poof i was softball soccer dad driving my spawn to the bowling alley for tapdance lessons. but for some reason it didnt work out that way.
and i am willing to conclude that thats fine.
do i look at some of my friends and sigh and think wow, fucking kickass house, fucking sweet pool, fucking beautiful fam? yes. do i ever, even for a minute think, i wonder if that was me?
no.
because that is nothing at all who tony pierce, xbi agent to the stars, busblog uber driver to LA, was meant to do.
for better or worse i was not put here to pay off a mortgage.
for worse or better i was put here to kiss pretty girls from around the world.
and then write about some of it
and take pictures in a canadian mirror after being interrogated by the border patrol
for you.
and you.
and them.
because they are busy raising the next generation and paying off that mortgage
and driving to tennis camp.
and when they see what i have to say
which is
none of this is true
they wont be tempted to do it too.