why should you listen to women?

because they secretly know everything.

my truest went to an idie film one day and one of the trailers was this one above.

one night we were trying to figure out what film to watch on netflix and she suggested “The Art of the Steal”.

i have a terrible psychological problem in that i think that i have to be the one who always brings her all the cool stuff. i have to turn her on to the great music and movies and tv shows. i have to be a step ahead of everything. i guess i feel that she brings everything else to the relationship, that if i cant deliver the other good stuff then im worthless.

its stupid and crazy, but hi thats me.

so i said fine, lets see this thing and then go to sleep. BEST DOC OF THE YEAR! (even though it came out in 2009). its the story of a $25 BILLION art collection where the dude who owned it had no heirs but put together a will that said this art cannot be sold, loaned out, moved, or f’ed with. and sure enough as soon as he died the Philly art world did their best to f with it, and it looks like by summer of next year they will successfully steal it away from the home that he built for it, The Barnes Foundation in Lower Merion.

as you know we are in NYC. but all along we decided that we would make a day trip to Philly to see this art in its natural habitat. the place where Dr. Barnes wanted it to be seen. he didnt want tourists like us to come see it, he wanted students to study it. he didnt want people to buy tickets online, like we did, he wanted artists and check it out and learn and be inspired.

we were doing pretty much what he didnt intend, and we realized that, but i think at this point he’s rolled around so much in his grave that he probably has conceded to the fact that the really bad people are about to win. and to have people like me and the truest journey to where it was meant to be would probably be ok to the old dude.

we took the Apex bus, which has gotten a wide variety of reviews on Yelp from the horrific to the sublime. its a $10 bus that picks you up in the smelliest part of NYC’s chinatown and drops you off in a sketchy part of Philly.

but it’s $10. (nowadays it’s $12, but people still call it the $10 bus.)

like the reviews say, theres no real reason to get your tickets online because once you find your way to the nondescript office on Allen Street it’s first-come-first-served. we got there a little early and noticed a small line-up. there was no sign on the bus so i asked someone in line where the bus was going and they said Philly. so we gave the driver our ticket and 15 minutes before it was supposed to leave we were on the road(!?). had we caught the previous bus or was the correct bus leaving early with only 8 people on board?

who knows, who cares, welcome to Apex.

the A/C was blasting and i had foolishly forgotten to bring a jacket and since it was 77 degrees and humid i didnt think i needed a wrap. so i held my true love in my arms and we shared her jacket and i fell asleep in her arms. 1 2 3 awwwwww. somewhere near philly the bus driver pulled over near a mcdonalds. he called out the street name. no one got off. apparently they can drop you off in 3 parts of the crappiest parts of the city of brotherly love.

the second stop the guy pulled over and yelled at someone sitting on a bench. didnt pick that person up, didnt drop anyone off. and in seconds we were rolling again. finally, under 2 hours after leaving chinatown, we were on Broad and Onley. last stop, everyone off, the man said. we got up and the bus kept rolling. we were being dropped off across the street from a greyhound station. apparently Apex doesn’t have an official terminal. but who cares ITS $12!!

soon as we got off the bus we were surrounded by my people. black folk. a dude approaches me and says “need a cab brotha?” i look around and there are no yellow cabs. so i say, “sure, we are going about 8 miles away, how much?” he says lemme hook you up. and we make our way to another brotha who walks us to an unmarked minivan.

shady $12 bus, shadier minivan… i know, i know, im 105 years old, i make a decent salary, i dont need to put my life on the line like this, let alone my beautiful bff, but when you get to my age its nice to see what the universe provides and roll with it. and the universe was giving us a gypsy cab and it was so great.

is Michael Vick gonna do it? i asked. the dude was all yeah but can he please just shut his mouff? we had a great conversation about sports, and how Kobe has turned his back on Lower Merion (where he’s from), and how Oprah turned her back on Baltimore (where shes from), and how traffic is always bad in Philly even at 1pm which is what time it was and why we were experiencing traffic. and we made it to the Barnes Foundation in 15 minutes, the guy said $20 and we gladly handed it over.

we said we’d call him for the ride back but im xbi, i cant let people pick me up after dropping me off. what if they figure out who i be? now that would be dangerous.

the barnes was having problems with their online ticketing. thats fine cuz even though we had gotten our tickets online ($15 each) i hadnt printed them out. which was fine because there was our name on the list. 1:30pm reservation. it was 1:15pm. close enough. step right in.

we got the headphones and little box. $7 each. and started. and people immediately, just in the first room, there was a George Seurat. one you had seen before. huge. and all around it a cezanne, a matiste, a monet, a few manets. and whats this, a van gogh youd never seen before.

and thats how it was in every room. density of beauty. a greatest hits of artists. a who’s who of brilliance. and because Dr. Barnes had owned this art for decades and because he was no sell out, this art had stayed in one place for 50-80 years. it hadnt ended up as a cheesy print poorly framed at Z Gallerie.

around each priceless painting were odd door hinges or door knockers or candle sticks. underneath them were antique dollhouses or wooden chairs. it was clearly one man’s vision of “omg check out how monet used red in this painting, it reminds me of how this guy used red or that guy, so lets put them all together on one small wall, and lets put some chairs under them and some hinges around them and have some crazy painting of a guy looking down over it so his eyes are looking at the entire collection.”

each wall was a collage of million dollar art cold chillin together in a way no museum would ever do. another thing a museum wouldnt do is have no description of the art next to each piece. all there was was a frame that had the artist’s last name. if you wanted to know the title and the year, there was a laminated sheet nearby. the wall is art. preserve the art.

room after room after room there was another picasso youve never seem, another van gogh you didnt ever see at the van gogh museum, another renior prettier than the one before, and a modigliani right next to a picasso – challenging it, holding its own.

it made me think about excellence. how i want to be excellent. how i want to have a Blue Period just as amazing as my Cubist period. how i want to do new things and great things. it made me wonder why people dont want to be the best ever and i am like that sometimes. it made me think that i dont spend my time crafting interesting tales on this blank canvas and tweak it and edit it and shape it so that its better than the first draft.

quality. excellence. beauty. marksmanship. preciousness.

there was a 100 year old pink picasso, there was a toulouse-latrecht that looked like michael jackson, and for no apparent reason here were all these great african sculptures surrounded by seemingly unrelated paintings.

and there, proudly displayed, was that punk rock master, the dude who thumbed his nose at The Academy, Gustave Courbet, and his Woman with White Stockings. dr. barnes keeping it real. dr barnes saying yes i hate the rules too. dr barnes saying i too want to say to the art world that they can kiss my ass (or in this case, kiss my taint). overheard, “hey harry, so is she putting on those stockings before or after? hehehe. or during?!?!”

it was really too much to absorb in one sitting. two-three hours isnt enough. to really be one with such a mass amount of high quality art. from baby sketches to medium sized paintings to freakin a picasso tapestry. its too much to figure out.

meanwhile the whole time youre in this building that was meant for this art and you had the horrible bittersweet taste in your mouth that this work was about to be yanked out and put in the last place that its visionary collector wanted it: in the philly museum of art.

it was like seeing the final year of the cubs playing in wrigley field before they would be moved to the south side to share Cellular Field with the hated white sox.

the cubs should only play at wrigley and the art collected by dr. barnes should only be seen at the barnes foundation. seeing The Art of the Steal convinces you, but viewing the art in person brings it home.

walked a few blocks, ate at a place called Cosi’s. called a cab but a white Lincoln Continental showed up and honked. dont honk at the xbi. dude got out of the car and said tony? did you call for a cab? all the cars were out, so the boss had me take his car to pick you up, where you going?

ruh row.

said a little prayer and told him. when it finally dawned on him that i was asking to be driven to the ghetto he called into the office “broad and Olney. yeah. OLNEY! i know.” very nice guy but white and clearly not into going where we were gonna go. he, however, knew everything about the Barnes and the film and philly and the bad politics, and so much. another good conversation. when we got to the place i asked how much as there was no meter. he calculated $18, i gave him $23 and we got out.

broad and olney is a subway stop, a busstop, and a greyhound station. its also kitty corner to a school for girls and a zillion other things. lots of people. lots of old dudes with canes waving their canes at people honking as they drive by. its black folk being black folk. if youre not into the culture its scary, if you can hang its entertaining and heartwarming and beautiful. we got there a little after 5. we realized the next Apex bus wasnt coming till 6 so we looked around for a bar, only found one that looked so shady we chose to chill at the dunkin donuts cuz my belly was sour.

finally a shuttle bus appeared around 6. it honked. we got on along with 10 others. i had tried to figure out how Apex made any money driving 8-10 people on a big bus from NYC to Philly – gas alone must cost more than the $80 that they were getting from us, so the shuttle bus made more sense. several miles later they picked up some jamacians. and then after a few more miles the driver said Get Out, Changing Busses.

confused, but prepared for anything, we all got out and stood in front of a chinese restaurant. others were waiting there too. i really had to empty the bowels so i went into the chinese restaurant and as soon as i was almost done i heard a knock at the door. the truest alerted me that the new bus was there. it was a huge bus like the one we arrived in philly in. but now more people were there. so many that i wasnt able to sit next to her. instead i drew the short straw and was forced to sit next to an 18 yr old college freshman girl with pretty long hair.

turned out she had a bf at nyu and they took turns visiting each other. he normally won out because manhattan was a tad more fun than philly. tried the bathroom about 90 minutes into the trip, noticed there was no tp and the stench was insane. and decided not to risk it.

got to chinatown safe and sound. really needed to go number two, but figured i could hold it till brooklyn. but we couldnt find where the subway was. asked a young man running a tea shop. he pointed. but his buddy said ok but buy drinks! i said if you let me use your bathroom i will buy a drink. they agreed. truest got a hot green tea, i got a ginger ale. i destroyed that bathroom. got out and the look on her face was amazing. she was drinking the finest green tea of her life she announced. he said his secret is he boils the tea first. whatever, she was in bliss. and i was more comfortable.

got on the subway. got back to brooklyn. had another deep, meaningful, bizarre, spiritual conversation with ms anna rose who was spending a few months in the basement of aj’s three story park slope flat and around 1am we decided that we would test out one of the all night diners.

truest and i strolled romantically down 5th ave, arm in arm. youd think we were newly weds or bf/gf but no, we’re exes. just extremely loving ones. we’ll duck into a corner and kiss. hold hands. say sweet things. but in a month or two she may be in india and i might be named the new manager of the flubs. who knows. who cares. we are soul mates and if more isnt on our dance cards for this incarnation, we will see each other in the next one. or maybe not. maybe we were together in the past and this is the bonus extra dvd directors cut encore.

it really does feel that easy and familiar. it really is that beautiful and carefree. there really is no tension to get “serious” or have kids or even be together tomorrow. but for right this minute theres no one who matches up with me better. theres no one who i feel more manly and smart and confident around. theres no one who knows me better. theres no one i feel safer around. despite the fact we may never see each other again.


and a lot how i feel while in new york city.

could it have been NINE years ago

that matt and emmanuelle got married? tons of people were there. it was in the middle of france in a summer vacation town called joncy. white cows walked right down the middle of the street speaking french.

first me and chris flew into amsterdam and decompressed there for a few days. everyone says that traveling to europe in the summer is so expensive and uncomfortable and crowded and terrible but in the middle of july all the dutch take their vacations and head to greece or the south of france or anaheim so my favorite european town was nearly empty and strange. it was raining a little too.

didn’t matter. if anything it made it better. even though our marriott had a pizza hut underneath it, it wasn’t what id consider amsterdamian, so i dont recommend it.

after a few days we took a train to my second favorite european town, paris. paris was cool. by the time we got there though the only restaurant open was one of those chic ones where you eat on the outside in front of the restaurant judging people who walk on the sidewalk. i think all they had left was lobster and shrimp and tasty wine and strawberries and chocolat mousee. after a romantic stroll free of parisians who were also in greece, we retreated to our filthy room with charming view and agreed that even the dirtiest of streets of paris are still much more magical than the best streets of the mission of frisco where we were living at the time, happily.

only scary part about paris was the fact that no one knew where joncy was.

it may have had to something to do with my special brand of french.

eventually we got on the tgv – the french bullet train. once again we found ourselves free of any bothersome europeans. and you may ask yourself, “why is tony so upset about our cousins to the east?”

i’ll tell you why, because as long as americans have been coming to europe we have been asking for cold cokes. if europeans wanted spit on their waffles, after a while we would just know to include spit on your waffles when you came over here.

give us cold cokes!

so we drank wine.

me and chris were drinking wine everywhere we went even on the train to mont pilleir or whatever the town was that dougie gyro and barney picked us up at, but we were pretty drunk when we showed up and we met up with our friends and tick tock it dont stop.

we were driven to grandma’s house, emmanuelle’s grandma. everyone has castles in this town. the white cows demanded it. grandma’s castle was pretty nice, but her barn was the best so we all slept there. it was hot in joncy and the windows were open and people were playing guitars and singing songs. all of my friends play and sing except me. i drink and smoke and fall asleep. aaaaahhhhh.

in the morning we walked into town. first we crammed into the mayor’s office. emmanuelle’s dad is the mayor. everyone was smiling and talking french and then the mayor said some things in english and pat whalen was the best man and he was laughing so i kept laughing.

then we all walked down the main street of joncy a beautiful parade. matt had on this crazy yellow jacket looking like buddy hollys cousin in law some guy was playing a violin, layne was playing the guitar. people were singing.

made it to the church and that was entirely in french and way better than most services that ive been to.

probably cuz it wasn’t full of lies.

after church we went to the pre reception drink off at a nearby school. only a few of us knew it was a drink off so i placed pretty high.

piled into cars and drove out of joncy to where the mayor lives. his castle was the best one. three stories, big, yet homey. in the backyard were several big tents where we would eat and drink and dance into the wee hours.

the camps were equally divided between emmanuelles euro friends and matts dirty american pals. the girls were beautiful intellects on both sides but the menfolk from matts side were decidedly scruffy and crude, like moi, especially with the neverending barrels of wine that grew from the trees of the countryside of west joncy.

layne kissed matts teenage sister. a fight broke out. it was settled with a highly entertaining breakdance battle. ken had to kiss matt. then everyone kissed everyone. then dougie gyro hijacked the wheels of steel and we danced til the dawns early light.

rode cows to grandmas castle barn, hit the hay, and have yet to wake from that beautiful dream.

emmanuelle + matt

a letter from Chris in Uganda

Hi Friends!

I hope this email finds you happy and healthy! I miss you all very much. Hopefully, you won’t mind the group email. I have limited time to respond to a lot of emails but many have asked how it’s going on the other side of the world. Well, so far so good. I am still in Uganda and I’ve just completed training. I am now an official PC Volunteer. A whole day! It’s been a whirlwind, roller coaster of an adventure so far and there’s a ton more to come. I love it here though and in two months I’ve become pretty comfortable with my life here. It hasn’t always been easy and I’m sure I will experience more challenges down the road. There are some cultural situations I’m not always prepared for but handle them by asking questions and trying not to judge.

Now the real work begins.

My assignment will take me to a small town called Nkokonjero right above Lake Victoria and about an hour and a half East of Kampala… I will be working with several nuns who run a very special home for 220 residents. The residents that live there are disabled children, orphans whose parents have died from AIDS and an elderly population. The home offers vocational training for the few that can learn a trade (crafts, animal husbandry, shoe-making, baking, small business skills, sewing etc.) and they have a variety of income generating projects to help keep the organization going.

My job as I currently see it will be community outreach to the 12 surrounding villages about HIV AIDS education as well as to help take the home to the next level to make the quality of living better for the residents who live in the home. This will take a variety of shapes including: business training for the staff and some of the older residents, teaching computers skills, grant writing, marketing the bakery products that they just started making … and getting to know some incredible children. I will also use my degree to some extent to help understand what some of the disabled children may need to make their lives a bit easier. My supervisor is leaving a lot up to me, which is typical PC anyway. There are very special people that live here and I feel lucky to have been assigned such a job as it really encompasses not only the populations of people I’ve served in the past, but also the types of jobs I’ve held as well. I intend to serve them well.

The community is beautiful and I’m looking forward to living in such a wonderful place. Currently I”m living in a rectory of sorts until my house is ready for me to live in which is about a month down the road… It’s strange being in a place with so many crosses but I feel safe and comfortable. Plus, I have power and water so that’s a nice surprise as well since many of the others in my group don’t have these luxuries and will have to get water hauled from a nearby water source and rely on kerosene and flashlights at night.

The last two months were long and tiring but necessary to help acclimate to Uganda. I lived with a family where there were no less than 14 people at any given time. There were no ceilings in the house so you could always here what’s going on. I’m used to being on my own so it was a bit of an adjustment having very little control over my environment. But it was a great introduction to Ugandan life and an opportunity to get an idea about what to expect. I played and talked a lot with the children in my home and neighborhood and they helped me learn Luganda.

Life is slow in the outlying areas and time passes very differently here. With training over, I plan to send a lot more mail. So if you haven’t heard from me yet, you will.

I am happy and comfortable here and it’s nice to be living a simpler life at the moment. People here work extremely hard. Some of what is seen on the news about Uganda is correct: that many NGOs are corrupt and that money isn’t going where it should… however, there are also a lot of dedicated and committed Ugandans and volunteers who are ready for things to be different here as well. So we will work and do what we can. Yes, I know. Idealism at its finest. Well, we shall see how it goes.

I’m in Kampala at the moment and getting ready to take my VERY bumpy and crowded taxi ride back to my community. I had to get some cookware so I can finally begin cooking for myself…

The skies here are as beautiful as they say. Hope to hear from you.

Be well~!


p.s. i miss tony the most

ok she didnt write that part but if you read between the lines thats what it says. above photo taken on polk street in sf

hi america

chris in front of the wacky packages

.. and canada. didnt mean to leave you hanging today. you know i like to write something first thing but i had to watch the sopranos before someone told me what happened and then i had to shit then i had to eat and then i had to shit again. see why i say dont apologize for not writing – you get tales that you dont want to hear.

anyways somethings wrong with me. i dont know what. i feel like im depressed but i havent been depressed in decades. centuries maybe. is it the pills im taking for the cold i caught? is it that im back at home and theres no hot babe waiting for me? no wild shit for me to do here? just back to the grind? is my grind really a grind?

in the last four weeks ive spent most of it on the road getting drunk getting lo toplesspartying and making out with beautiful women. ive been able to write and work and walk and talk

and last night and today i looked in the mirror and the devil whispered youre the ugliest man in the world, you have replaced bukowski and noone could figure out how he got his fingers stinky and noone can figure out how you do it either but your luck is gonna run out and its gonna run out soon. and depression is what happens when you look at that mirror and see things through satans cheap sunglasses.

i had a hard time falling asleep last night partially because i didnt need to wake up this morning and partially because i was thinking about what he was saying. then i watched the sopranos and that tony was asking himself the same questions that this tony was asking. who am i, where am i, what am i doing. the trilogy of fucked up questions that rarely lead to enlightenment as generally ive discovered that im at my most happy when im asking someone else those questions, and their answers are here with you, close to you, getting as naked as i can get.

life doesnt have to be very hard. and as tony soprano was on his oxygen and his wife was trying to figure out what music to play i was relieved when she slid in tom petty and smoke on the water. and if sonny ever shoots me in the gut and you want to calm me in my icu room please put on tsar the replacements ac/dc and as much old stones as you can find. i know its cliche but the stones are rock n roll. hell you could just put on midnight rambler on repeat if you get tired. its pretty much a song thats on repeat anyway. and if you want me to really be happy put on the blues brothers soundtrack.

last night the phone rang and usually when it would ring it would be my true love, but since shes in deepest darkest africa for two and a half years i knew it wasnt her, but i still had hope. thats the sort of thing that can lead to depression too. ridiculous hope. and calling girls your true love who get it on with fat white republicans instead of you.

the more i live in this hollywood apartment a mile away from where bukowski wrote pretty much all of his best works, i really understand how he was able to do it and not blow his brains out. he worked his 9-5, came home and then wrote. his job had no real dramatic ups or downs and he was able to drink and write each night until he passed out.

its the very high peaks that fuck us up when we get back to the petty pace of the day to day and make them seem like lows. what i have right now isnt a low, its a normal, and its a damn huge high compared to the dusty shit that my truest is up to her neck in right now in uganda.

i have no problems compared to that world. im hungry but all i have to do is walk out of this house and in fifteen minutes i could be eating japanese, chinese, armenian, soul food, fast food, mexican, cuban, russian, or korean. im depressed because i choose to be. im lonely because im lazy. im fat because im a sloth. im horny because i deserve to be. i suck because im alive.

ive enjoyed many loves in my long life

uganada but ive only had one true love. one soul mate. one grand slam combo sextra syrup.

ive been in love a million times. ive danced with every type of girl at every sort of hoedown.

ive kissed girls prettier than the sunrise over the grand canyon on the fourth of july, and some of them even kissed me back.

ive been with virgins and so-not virgins, ive been with different races and religions and shapes and sizes, rich girls poor girls, girls way taller than me and girls so tiny id have to figure out which lip theyd kiss cuz using both would drown em.

ive had nymphos and prudes, shy girls and bitches.

but only one girl has ever taken my heart and owned it and kept it owning it even when she didnt want it any more.

and that girl went off with fratdudes and whiteboys and malcontents and so-and-sos and i know she did it so id lose interest but i never lost interest. id caller and propose and shed say shut up and id say is he over and shed say hes coming over and id say tell him to look at those huge cans one last time cuz tonybaloney full of macaroni is gonna huff n puff and blow yr door down and shed say good cuz we’re gonna be at his house and my apartment needs some dusting.

and shed tell me she loved me and id say it back and shed say it again and id say it oh thirty more times. and i dont know if theres such a thing as soul mates but if there is shes mine, only problem is im not hers.

thanks to blogging its a problem im easilly distracted from because i get paid attention to by some of the cutest girls on the planet, some of whom say the absolute most perfect things. like i’ll say ok when i meet you will you wear a cheerleader sweater that says tony will you wear your hair in a ponytail and will you let me drive your car to the hotel with my hand on your thigh and they say yes and i say then after will you make me grits and eggs and bacon and apple juice topless and they say yes and i say ok then after that can we do it again and they say yes and i go good then after that can we watch baseball with my hand on your ass and they say sure.

and its nice but its not how you feel when youve known someone for what seems like forever and they know you and by knowing you i mean they know you and they still love you not despite or inspite of who you are but love you.

well my true love has always had a dream to join the peace corps fly to africa and save the world, and youd think volunteering would be a peace of cake but its snot. it was pretty much a year long process that included background checks up the ying yang, personality examinations, psychological examinations, you have to pay off every debt you have, you have to pass a series of physical tests, and then from what i understand there are the trick questions. but living with tony pierce for five years my girl was well prepared for the unexpected and if you ask me thats what sealed the deal.

it was such a long process that on saturday night when she called me i was at pretty girl’s house and we were talking about penises with two homosexual gentlemen in such a fascinating conversation that at first i was upset with the interruption of my silly ring tone, but when i saw it was her i excused myself and took the call.

i think this is it, baby, she told me.

she was in massachussets. home of the peace corps. the vision of the kennedy family who were celebrating the 45th anniversary of the institution. she told me how there had been a big dinner the night before and they had introduced everyone and there was great applause and speeches and stories and well wishes and even some tears.

she told me that it was midnight over there and she had to go to sleep because early in the morning the plane would be taking her to africa where she would be working for the next two and a half years.

an emotional girl but always in a sweet way i could hear her start to cry as she told me that she loved me and that nearly got me but as a man ive learned how to fight it. so i faught it and told her that she can run from me but ive always wanted to see the motherland and all shes gonna do when she goes there is see dark skinned tony pierces and shes gonna think about me constantly and i told her that at night if she thought of me when she touched herself that it was ok and she laughed and told me to shut up and i asked her if there would be giraffes there and she said yes and i said if one dies will you make me a nice little giraffe cap for my bald head and she said gross and i said do they have lions there and she said yes

and i said youve gotta stay away from the skinny lions because theyre hungry but the fat lions you can basically pluck their shorthairs and she said how would you know any of that and i said its in my dna i know everything about africa and i do for example i know its big.

my truest doesnt like to be called my truest on here but shes in africa now and cant read this so good. shes right next to the equator in a country called uganda which has an unpenetral forrest which on our last phone call the other day i told her i was gonna penetrate when i visit her and i said in that forrest im going to find a diamond ring and im gonna put it on her finger and get a witch doctor to wed us and we’ll dance around a fire and party so loud that king kong is gonna ask us nicely to shut the fuck up. and nicely she asked me to shut the fuck up.

and there was a little bit of quiet.

and then she said im gonna miss you tony.

and then we both sobbed a tiny bit,

less than i am now.

me chris and jeanine go to an art opening + at warsawa + in cancun + in europe

a while ago when i was on vacation

me and chrisi wore my cubs floppy hat whereever i went.

since then any time i wear my floppy hat i feel like im on vacation.

the other day at work we were about to do some gnarly shit.

i was sorta pissed off because i didnt see anything on the board telling us that we had anything gnarly planned for the afternoon and there we were flying to a scene and i was slightly stressed out,

which never happens as i am icy cool under pressure

and i took off my helmet and put on my floppy hat and it immediately relaxed me. mind over matter. or in this case mind over mind.

everything was fine until someone noticed on my cockpit cam and dude said in my earpeice

wtf you doing captain?

there was a time when when people talked about the xbi they talked about guys without vests on, without nightvision, and without fear.

guys so tough they wrote their phone numbers on the ass cheeks of the worst guys they caught

so when the cops found them hogtied and defeated they would know who to thank.

and there i was tens of thousands of feet above concrete being told to put on my helmet.

but what of my magic hat of relaxation i whispered

and dove with the sun behind me

so as to avoid a lot of shadow.

saidy + bunnie + paige

picked up my true love at the airport last night.

i dont recommend anyone going to LAX to pick up anyone unless youre xbi, and even then its hairy.

i know i exaggerate a lot on here and i say things about her being my truest, but when i saw her yesterday there definitely was something special there.

it’s freaky.

if i ever do get married i want that feeling from my bride. its a calming effect. its a submissive thing. its a whatever-you-want-is-coolio vibe.

she said pick me up at ten pm i said anywhere. she said LAX i said no one is allowed in. she said you can do it. save me. i saved her. she said take me to taco bell. i said baby i already have your seven layer burrito in the back seat. she said i love you. i said i love you too babydoll.

i told her she looked good. she said have you been drinking i said doesnt matter, i know a hot girl when i see one.

she said, stop that, ive been travelling for 8 hours.

i said lil tone hasnt been drinkin and lil tone approves.

i watched her eyes move down to where lil tone was saying hi and she smiled.

blue eyes matching her nicely filled out blue sweater.

stars sparkling in the crisp la winter night.

angels pulling back a little of the sky so they could peek.

i kissed her cheek

i kept my face against hers.

i moved my hands slowly down the small of her back to her jlo.

she complained that her place was messy and boring and smelly and i said baby your place is perfect. she said i cant believe you took karisa here. i said she loved it. we loved it. i said i told karisa that this is where my truest lives, isnt it great and karisa said i never knew it was so big and bright and sunny.

my true love said yes it is sunny.

we drove back to my place holding hands, talking nonstop, catching up.

her wesssside businesswoman cold-as-ice seriousness slowly melting as we drove east down the ten and went north on the 110 past staples.

i might find a better person for me one day.

maybe it’ll be before the next snowfall in vegas.

cpt scurvy + mad mathias + welch’s resolutions

what can you say about a girl that everyone only has nice things to say about?

more nice things.

chris works at the last dot com in all of america. shes the star of the show over there. theyve made her player of the year two consecutive years in a row and she totally deserves it. shes a great employee, a great boss, a great co-worker.

for me, she has been the most fantastic friend. she lets me borrow her car to go meet hot babeS, she takes me out to dinner and doesnt let me pay, she reads great books and tells me about them.

lately shes been turning herself into a high fashion model wooing all the boys from here to the border.

chris loves good movies. shes a good movie-goer. she’ll see almost anything, and she’ll be honest about it.

without her, i would never have gotten into Blade. she went to Blade 2 with me the other day and it was her second time going but she loved it.

then we had thai.

i’ll always love my sweet girl from wherever shes from.

email her here and share the love.