Monthly Archives: September 2018

the truth about the author

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a long time ago i had a beautiful and insightful girlfriend named Ashley.

one of her complaints about me was that she said i was never satisfied.

when she said it i didn’t believe it. ive always thought of myself as laissez-faire, chill, and laid back.

but now that amber and i have lived together for over a year, im beginning to see the wisdom in young ashley’s critique.

amber actually IS chill. she doesn’t complain about squat except if i have the tv on when shes trying to sleep. thats all.

me, i have a long list of things i want her to do, unasked for advice about her job, i’ll even take over the cooking when i see she’s not using 2x the amount of water thats necessary when shes making rice-based dishes.

is there any wonder ive been a bachelor my entire life? who could withstand such a barrage of negative blather from the man who was advertised as someone who allegedly doesnt give AF.

apparently i do. apparently i want everything a certain way. when you look at my house you dont see the results of a detail-orientated fellow, but if you live with me for more than a week, real tony shows up and HE HAS NOTES.

i hereby apologize to all of my girlfriends who had to withstand this. it’s not pretty, it’s not fun. it’s not funny.

im gonna get amber a bell, i want her to ring it every time i whine about something stupid.

maybe i will get her two.

i save my reading for listening

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as i drive around this fair city i enjoy having others read to me

Morrissey’s autobiography was a delight mostly because Moz is an exceptional writer

and it makes me feel like i should stop watching so much TV and start reading

you know, actual books

because when you hear someone lie Morrissey explain things or describe things

and every sentence is so descriptive with analogies and metaphors that come from ancient scrolls

and legendary literature and you’re all, wait was that original or a Shakespearian quote

you feel equal parts excited and ignorant.

i also liked that he just wanted England to love him and it didnt. not like LA or Mexico or Scandinavia.

here people would dress like him and scream his lyrics right back at him and fill up this one and that one

theyd damn near riot, but in his beloved UK they’d barely bat their lashes

i also like that his record labels barely supported him and no one knew what to do with his successes.

it is a pattern that i have seen in my own life: some people and organizations are built for mediocrity

they have zero interest in wild success, all they want to do is keep on keeping on.

they don’t want failure, but in an odd way they feel more comfortable with a hiccup or two

than they are huge accomplishments.

they’re terrified of breaking records, leading the pack, or breaking through to the new thing.

here The Smiths and Morrissey were selling hand over fist – even when the group broke up, yet the labels were far more willing to spend endless amounts of time and effort into the unproven and even failed,

than they were to the quirky vegetarian straight edge asexual exception to the rule.

in the book he even says that Michael Stipe has always wanted to go solo.

fascinating!

im not dead, im doing things

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and for me doing things takes a little time. i can knock out certain things quickly but when i care about them time goes so quickly to catch up with my mind

im on schedule. have no fear. but when i do stuff i think about three or four steps ahead which is cool except it makes me stumble on the step im currently on.

ive asked the young kids i used to work with what their thoughts are on Adderall because i saw a movie on Netflix about how every kid in college is on it because it helps them focus and they had mixed reviews.

they said sure if you wanna clean your room in a night or paint details on a huge blank wall. but you can get addicted, it’s not cheap, and it fucks up your sleep. i’ll just stick to bad music, incense and Mexicokes.

been dropping off Birds at 5am. im a weirdo. it pays ok. a little less than Uber and for some reason it uses up more gas than i expected but it sends me into alleys and back ways and bizarre parts of LA that i wouldnt normally go to.

ran into two gay guys last night in hollywood. one of them was pulling up his pants. so much love out there. or hookers. hard to tell sometimes. whatever, love it is.

speaking of Love one thing i love about Hollywood is how you will see a perfectly good Ma & Pa Kettle house made of wood, with a porch and a brick fireplace right next to a 19 story modern hotel right next to a McMansion. everyone in their place. everyone wanting to be somewhere else. bigger, shinier, more secluded. more rocking. bigger pool.

i just wanna always feel like everythings ok. and right now its pretty ok.

speaking of Love, 20 years ago today Hole came out with Celebrity Skin named after the magazine or glam band or JK long live courtney.

we are in this together, you, me, and you & me

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when we shake hands or hug or kiss cheeks we are saying

we are world travelers in time and space and emotions but here we are at the same spot together

because the world is small.

when we refuse to touch, when we deny that moment of humanism, brotherhood, sisterhood

we are saying the world frightens me, you scare me, your hand your intentions, your mind.

when we refuse, you are saying, i want to be in my world and mine is different than yours

yours is one of x, y, and z and mine is nothing at all like yours, and certainly not from a

loving, trusting, honestly communicating place.

when he refuses your hand, he is saying, i cannot even pretend to be civil right now

NO I CANT EVEN

he is saying i am of a different class than you, a better one – even if i am weak.

when we shake hands we are saying we are one, we are we, we have very briefly unionized and merged.

but when we refuse that hand, that very simple gesture that goes back all the way to the begining

we are saying this is not the begining

it is the end.

and we have both failed.

last night we went to the Bowl to see John Williams

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you know the guy who did the music for Jaws, Star Wars, the Olympics, E.T. and all your favorite movies?

Steven Spielberg MCed some of it and I was thinking, i wonder how much he got paid. $10k? $5k?

amber thinks he did it for nothing because he loves John, who is getting up there in years, but if i was rich like John i’d throw my man $10k for showing up.

a few days before that we went to see Smashing Pumpkins at the Forum who played for 3 hours.

i aint got time for no 3 hour show so we left but i was very entertained none the less. someone on Twitter a while back said that rock shows should start at 7pm sharp, the opener should start at 8 and we should be out of there by 10:30pm. im ok with that.

because im so extremely old.

speaking of, ive been using some of my back muscles that i havent used in centuries and ive been lifting these heavy things to put food on my family’s table, and my back was furious with me, so i laid sideways on my bed and did these leg stretches and then rolled over on the other side and stretched. then i took Amber’s neck massager and laid on it.

then like how baseball pitchers dont pitch every day, i took a day off and voila, cured. thanks Lord. but i think imma go back to driving Uber for the side hustle. it may pay better and doesnt hurt me.

the main hustle starts tomorrow, anew. my last day at the old job was Friday and it was very bittersweet. i really enjoyed working with so many of the people there, but it was obvs that i was a square peg. which is A-OK with me. so i got donuts for everyone and wrote some notes to some people. completion.

what will come of the secret project? mansions and pool houses, duh.