have i told you i have the greatest friends, i do

two of them are in the running for the nicest guy in the world olympics and they seem to never be off the clock.

got some good news today. some very good news.

it was scary to ask for what i want. it was scary to tell the truth after sorta being burned for it recently. but dance with who brung ya and as the man said, im here with three chords and the truth.

and apparently everythings ok. my sweet angel brought home cake yesterday because she and i were under the assumption that good news was gonna happen either yesterday or today because Christmas and everything, and when the bad news came she told me about the cake and that was sorta sadder than the news.

cuz now i gotta look at this cake.

but then today good news popped outta the sky and now im eating rocky road ice cream and black and white cake.

because as she pointed out, you are black and i am white.

i asked whats that strawberry doing on top?

she said thats the baby.

i said i will throw that strawberry to the dog next door.

she said NOT THE BABY!

i said that baby looks nothing like me!

she said it’s pockmarked and sweet.

i said im neither! begone you!

(but i am sweet.)

heres an uber story you might like

tomorrow im gonna do job #19 of my career… driving for Uber and Lyft.

i could write books about the 5,000 trips i took, the people i met, the stories they told and the things i learned about LA as we drove.

picked up a dude in DTLA at the old American Apparel factories, we headed west and passed Sam’s Hofbrau House.

guy asks, ever been in there?

nope, i said.

why not?

ah, strip clubs seem weird to me in your own town, i explained. i mean look at me. i turned to give him a nice glance at my profile. do i look like i need to go to a bar to hang out with hot babes?

we laughed as we passed by the Pińata District.

he continued, well that strip club is key to the great movie you might have heard of, Pulp Fiction.

oh yeah? I said. who doesn’t love Pulp Fiction.

yeah, he said, rumor has it Quentin was in there one night with some industry types. thinking about using it for one of his films. they got drunk. and when he got home he realized he didn’t have his wallet.

so he retraced his steps and told his assistant to call Sam’s.

so the assistant calls and says, hey do any of you remember seeing Quentin there last night?

whoever is on the other line says, don’t know who you’re talking about but even if i did we don’t divulge our guests. company policy.

the assistant said, fair enough. well he’s my boss and he thinks he left his wallet there.

bartender or whoever asks, can you describe the wallet?

assistant says, it’s very unique. it’s brown and says Bad Mother Fucker on it.

bartender laughs and says, yes we have it, but you need to ask him where he got it because we all want one just like it.

whats interesting about uber and lyft is it was such a fascinating side job and every night i learned something about this city, humanity, life, and myself. some nights i would get home, eat, take a leak and think, i just feel like it’s too dangerous to drive out there tonight. and i’d stay home.

other nights i’d drive until 4am.

soon im gonna pay off a car i never thought id own, a mercedes, and a lot of it was paid by driving people around.

but it was dangerous. my mom didn’t want me to do it. she never wanted me to do it. she was all, youre a grown man. you have a job, why are you doing this?

i said, ma, i love this just as much as being at the oscars. these people are just as interesting. the things i see are as good as any movie. people cry in that backseat, they laugh, they have fights on the phone. they pour their hearts out to me. they tell me stories that when i Google afterward appear nowhere on the web.

why should i read 100 year old novels when life is unfolding every day and night right here in real time?

poor woman, ive put her through so much.

soon im gonna buy her the biggest tv she’s ever seen.

 

yoko ono put this out there a long time ago, she said

try to say nothing negative about anybody for three days

for forty five days

for three months.

See what happens to your life.

well, a little more than 10 years ago i went to her 75th birthday party celebration

where she did duets with all sorts of people

a guy from the wu tang clan

that kid from third rock from the sun

beck

and lady gaga.

they were all of her songs.

most of which i had never heard before.

and every single duet was wonderful.

so hell yes, yoko, i will try this.

and then we will see.

when i was i school they made us read robinson crusoe

it starts off with Robinson Crusoe’s dad telling him to always take the middle path

meaning dont do the craziest most dangerous thing

and dont be so boring and conservative that you miss everything

and i always thought, well thats all fine and good

but aint nobody begging to hear the story of Robinson Crusoe Sr.

tell us about this kid.

tell us about his adventures and how he escaped sure death and shipwrecks,

show us how he outsmarted pirates, wolves

and cannibals.

tell us about the time he saved people.

i grew up loving outsiders because as the only black kid in town, i was the biggest outsider ever.

i had a huge afro and the energy of three suns.

where was i gonna hide?

so i loved mike royko, harry caray and this morning kid show host ray rayner who made bad crafts and needed little pockets to hold the notes about the announcements he was to read.

it’s really too bad that nothing in the busblog is true because

can you imagine if in here i told the real tales of what ive seen

and done

living in hollywood

these last 19 years

east of western?

if anything it was that struggle between

trying to take the middle road

but fighting back the robinson crusoe.

i didn’t move to watch everybody else live lives worth writing down.

in fact, please direct me to the cannibals and wolves,

i have questions.

so many questions.

is everything crazy? yes. it’s all crazy.

tom petty said the waiting is the hardest part and because he said it in a song it should be believed more than if he just blogged it.

ive never given birth before but i have heard of some expectant moms say how the last part is so hard. so annoying. so frustrating.

and any Cub fan of a certain age knows a thing or two about waiting and the fear that floats into ones head that it just aint gonna happen.

but we also know how sweet it is when it does all come true.

i would never lie to you.

my baby is having a hard time staying in the house. she is a wild horse. we live in a small pad. it was not built for two people. it was created for young doctors to eat sleep and study in as they went through their first years a nearby hospital. it’s quaint. but it has heat and running water.

my sink is so old it has two spigots. a word that deserves a better word.

are we losing our minds looking at each other every day? yes.

is there a way out of this madness?

yes.

and we are on that path right now.

hang on sloopy

hang on.

 

 

ive been doing this thing on IG

where every day i am writing about a job i had.

i started with my first job at McDonalds and yesterday i wrote about working at the Daily Nexus in college.

this is a picture of me and former EIC pat whalen reading Friday’s paper that morning.

nobody’s there because we didn’t have papers on Saturday but somehow we both ended up there

as did Joel Brand who took this picture.

back then it was rare to take pictures but Joel was/is rich so he not only had a camera but a damn good one, and knew how to use it.

so pat and i were reading the paper, going over every story. writing, design, humor, killer lines.

i remember one day we did this he totally insulted the arts section i had done that previous night.

i was like, youre kidding, right?

he spoke slurry like hunter s thompson, and whispery

“i dont kid this early in the day.”

then he started red penning things.

i was stunned.

a several months later we were on that same couch, and like in this picture, nobody was in the newsroom.

not even joel.

i had been fired by pat’s best friend larry for telling him he couldnt submit his dumbass pre-write about Sinbad at the Pub because it was late. Larry said, but im the EIC. i said dont you understand, if everyone sees that even the rules apply to you, then i’ll never have a story submitted late again.

i was running something crazy like 20 pieces a week in our 8 page section.

he said, if you dont run this you’re fired.

i said, you cant fire me, the section isn’t put to bed.

so Larry watched me work all night and when we were done he said yah fired.

a few months later he hired me back because the Gulf War was starting and the paper needed a few more writers.

pat negotiated a summit where larry would leave me alone, i would be a co-news editor but i had to stick it out.

well, that war was a bummer. and i was writing stupid stories like people getting flag poles to show their support to the troops. i hated everything, so i quit.

so larry told pat, see i told you he’d quit. screw you tony, youre banned.

i was a senior, i had a girlfriend, i lived a 10 minute walk from the beach, fine, some time off so i could live like a normal student for my last few months in college. works for me.

but then the california collegiate awards deadline was approaching. no one had called me to see which of my arts sections should be submitted for state.

which is how i ended up on that couch with pat, like i was telling you.

i said, pat, which ones are they submitting.

he said, none, they’re going to submit the Video Guys’ sections. i said, dude, let video guy have three issues and i have three issues. and we went through the ones that should be mine.

and during spring break we all went up to sacramento

and for the first time ever the daily nexus won best arts section in state

and it was mine.

and i won it in a dress

and as i was walking up to get my little plaque i could hear pat

with his elongated delivery

irony of ironieeeeeeeees!

so yes, i love this picture.

and mr w. patrick whalen.

i think ive figured out my problem

when people ask rhetorical questions on Twitter, i think they’re talking to me.

so i answer.

and when i see videos of people struggling to make it in LA,

i want to help.

but here are the two things that come to my mind when i see something like this guy who drove here

and sleeps in his car and wakes up and does delivery for Postmates and Uber Eats

if i had a backyard guest house, and i let him live there, doesn’t that ruin his shitch?

but i also think, how excellent would it be if everyone treated everyone like that

because who, then, wouldn’t want to vagabond the crust

and sleep in peoples backyard man caves?

they say the problem with Libras are our minds are tooooo open.

there are too many options and possibilities.

that it’s hard to make a choice.

but maybe because im on the scorpio cusp, i dont have that problem

i usually know what i want.

i want to help.

i sent him some money and my email address.

he’s doing a lot of things totally wrong

but he’s also seeing things that most of us take for granted like venice, the hollywood reservoir (i havent even been there), the free showers at the beach.

it’s funny though. right now COVID is whalloping LA and amber, finally, is understanding the magnitude, so she’s paranoid to go to the post office.

GOOD!

so i told her we should just taskrabbit it. hire someone $20 to go to the post office for us.

“i dont wanna make someone else get COVID because i didnt wanna go out there.”

but then i saw this guy and i was all, fuckit, just get him to do it. he’s already out there.

and who couldn’t use $20 for such a simple task?

i could probably also give him some extra pillows and a coat.

towels. who knows.

it’s Christmas.

if youre not confused yr not paying attention

At first we thought they were bots.

How could anyone buy into the obvious baloney that was being shoveled down our throats?

Those can’t be people on the other side of those Twitter accounts with American flags in the bios and Bible verses next to their user names.

I DONT BELIEVE YOU Randy59680217!

But they are real.

They are our brothers and sisters, our neighbors, they’re sandwich artists and cops and very fine people.

70 million of them voted for a person who lied thousands of times… which was the least of his sins.

People are confused right now. On both sides. On all sides.

If you’re not confused you’re not paying attention.

But that doesn’t mean we can’t love each other. It doesn’t mean we can’t be civil.

The lady on my TV today said more people died today of COVID than all who died on 9/11, and that stat will be repeated nearly every day for the next 2-3 months.

Is she correct? Let’s hope not. Let’s hope we turn this corner fast.

Let’s hope the wonderful health professionals who are in harms way stay strong and get all the support they need because they’re so vital right now.

These are dark days and they may get darker yet.

Love each other.

It’s the opposite of what our enemies would want us to do.

some days are harder than others

dear the future,

I’ve got a boy cat who DGAF and a girl cat who very much GAF

today I asked my GF when the last time she truly relaxed

she said never?

is it a boy thing that thinks there’s magic in zenning out? how could it be if women are the ones who have spa days and brunch and tea

I teller the devil doesn’t wear a suit and knock at your door he slips into your ear hole at a young age and never leaves.

whispering the worst things

singing the saddest songs.

you’ve gotta sing with him

but don’t slide down.

yes my buckets got a hole in it

but inside be laughing.

devil hates a laughing man.

and since he lives inside

inside be laughing.

She is such a sweet person and sure she hasn’t caught the best luck

but some are just born jumpy so you just gotta give em space.

my girl cat is twins with the boy. They’ve never spent more than 10 feet away from each other their whole lives, almost all of it in my luxury mansion.

a safe home with food and drink and secret drink next to the fridge in an upside down Dodgers helmet that once held nachos.

yet she’s constantly on edge

and he’s chill as a dollar bill.

all the forehead kisses in thai town can’t quiet the demons in the minds of the ladies of my happy home.

do amber and i have a perfect relationship? yes.

she doesnt mind that im up writing until 5am. she only smirks when i crawl in bed and tell alexa to wake me up at noon.

and often as she rises in the morning i will hear her via ESP think

how is he so sexy at 197 years old? 

but one thing we disagree on is this pandemic.

me, i say stay at home, wear a mask, and limit ways for the deadly bug to get you.

she is young and full of life and loves being out and aboot.

this causes friction. not sexy friction. and not friction that one day will create a diamond.

this is conflict that digs right to the triad of all relationships: trust, honest communication, and the desire for the relationship to continue.

what you dont trust me? she’ll yell.

no, no i dont! i’ll write on a post-it and slap it on Prince’s tail.

unlike most relationships this lack of trust isn’t of a sexual nature, as a libra on the scorpio cusp i dare you to woo her better than i

i just dont trust how close she will talk with strangers, or how close other men want to get to her on the sidewalk.

and then she does the sweetest things like put together dollar store care packages for the homeless

every afternoon as i rise i see her smile turned upside down and i know it’s over one thing: her pissed off ness for being locked up like Rapunzel, who is not allowed to have handsome italian men charge her $700 to give her hair — her beautiful hair — the Sexy Smooth she’s grown accustomed to.

and it’s all my fault.

thats what she tells me.

YOU SAID THIS WOULD BE OVER BY THE FOURTH OF JULY! she reminds me.

how did i know the GOP would let it electorate suffer this fate?

live and learn, i guess.

or just learn.