NASA paid a little visit to the Blog. Told you those guys are smart.
Sorta scary.
Why does this scare me? I don’t know.
Hope all my facts were right.
If anyone from NASA wants to let me interview them using AOL Instant Messenger about all these pioneering Black astronauts for Black History Month, email me, maybe we could do it tomorrow, tonight i’m watching “Friends” with Chris.
But yeah, email me.
this time in Paris. This time to a frenchie named Amelie Mauresmo yesterday in straight sets.
On Satuday our girl lost to Monica Seles in Tokyo.
I’m starting to think that it has something to do with the cute little baby blue number that she seems in love with.
Anna seems to think it has something to do with emailing and calling me, so she has suddenly stopped all communique avec moi.
How do you say, “whatever,” in French?
This week’s big-ups go to Chris, who has loaned me her fine automobile for the last few days so that I could use it while Ashley was here. Not many ex-girlfriends would do that for a guy, but Chris is special, which is why I propose to her every chance I get.
I must say that I have enjoyed having a car these last few days. Strangely it is the AM radio that I have missed so much all this time.
That, and the Long Beach Freeway.
This week Howard Stern has been broadcasting live from Las Vegas on the FM dial right as I am pulling out of work and to have him in the morning and the evening is nearly as good as having Ashley waiting at home for me.
Also, mad props to my boys Ken and Matt, who have been mentioning my Black History Month stuff on their hugely popular sites. Welcome, fans of Welch/Layne.
Can a dumbass like me have it much better?
The answer my friends is, oui, monseiur.
If only that Honda could talk.
she emailed me to see if she did the right thing.
i emailed back saying, no she didnt do the right thing.
she picked up her cell phone, didnt say hi, just said, why not?
i said cuz most secret weddings dont work out, especially those by pop superstars who are only doing it because they want to get from out of their Church director father’s grasp. especially those who want to feel ok about having sex. lots of sex.
she said, why you got to be like that?
i said, just keeping it real, baby.
she said, you dont even know my husband.
i said, if you had married that Boyz II Men guy that you were dating for a while, then ok, i would have said ok. but to marry your producer? i give it six months.
she said, youre so mean.
i said, oh, defensive? i give it five months.
she said, ha! we were married last june.
i said, tick tock, cinderella.
she said, stop that! you dont even know me.
i said, your tv show was cancelled, you passed out from “exhaustion” a few years ago, you’ve won a Grammy, you’ve been in movies, you’re about to come out with a new record and you’re 22 years old…
she said, im gonna be 23 on monday.
i said, fine, you’re 23. even though you’ve sold 8 million records, you have much more left to live and having your producer play house with you isnt really gonna do much for you.
she said, so what should i do?
i said, look at that guy in the face and say to yourself, im going to look at that fool for the rest of my life, im going to pick up his dirty shorts, im going to get him dr. pepper in the middle of the night. im going to hear him chuckle after he rips a fart.
and then sing.
people love it when singers sound like they’re dying inside.
i hope someone gets her a 40.
here’s a picture i took of her last summer.
and here’s a really scary one that i tried to make better, but it isnt that nice at all, really.
anyway, happy birthday, jjl, thanks for the pics and the autographs,
and thanks for being in one of my favorite movies of all times, “Fast Times At Ridgemont High.”
it’s ok.
“doesn’t he know what you do some mornings?”
nope.
“don’t you want to tell him?”
nope.
“why?”
not everyone needs to know.
“but you were only fifteen minutes late.”
it’s cool.
“i like your blog re-design.”
yea, me too. took all night.
“i thought ashley came over last night.”
she did.
“how did you redesign your blog if she was over?”
it wasnt easy.
“i saw you at the gym last night after work.”
i was only there for a little while.
“did you get a load of those french guys?”
i wound up in the sauna with them.
“ive never seen two guys talk so much.”
they were talking like crazy in the sauna.
“what were they saying, you speak french.”
they were talking about french grammar.
“what?”
i think they had discovered that they were both french high school teachers and they were trying to figure out better ways to explain the masculine and feminine french words.
“like what?”
they were driving me crazy, i left after they agreed on le madame president.
“what’s that mean?”
the lady president.
“yeah, like highschoolers are gonna be saying that a lot when they go to france.”
never know.
“why do i always see you watching Regis when i pass your desk in the morning?”
cuz i think hes funny as hell.
“what’s up with Black History Month, it sorta took a stall.”
you know us Blacks, we’re shiftless and lazy.
“no, really.”
sunday i was busy, last night ashley pouted that i was working on the blog and wouldnt let me do a little feature thing.
“oh, whats up with telling everyone where she works, arent you afraid of stalkers?”
no.
“isn’t she?”
no.
“what if some freak seems to think that she’s all into them just cuz shes so friendly?”
if they touch her, they’ll probably get maced or shot in the nuts.
“she packs?”
shes xbi too.
“i thought you met her on the web?”
on the drew barrymore web site?
“yeah.”
nothing on this site is true.
“but some of it…”
nothing on this site is true.
when people choose to write in regarding Ashley. I get the judgemental ones crying of cradle robbing and how im disgusting and how it isnt right, normally from women, which i delete immediately cuz they’re hypocrites.
then i get the ones saying im their “hero” and how im “the man” and how im “living the dream” that come from the fellas, which i delete immediately because im so used to deleting the others. afterwards i softly say, “fuck.”
Ashley makes me happy because she pays tons of attention to me and pours love my direction and takes pictures and writes and calls and does everything I would want a girl to do if she wants to show me that she likes me. I know we’re not meant to be together forever, but right now it’s fun and what else are you going to do?
Anyhow, Ashley got a job at Disneyland. The other day was her first day, and as she was talking to me about it I said, “you should make a diary just about all of this stuff.” And she said, “ESP! I already did!”
It just started, so it’s not much, but bookmark it, as I’m sure you will be fascinated by what will eventaully transpire in the Happiest Place on Earth.
something i wanted to do for a long time and never got around to it.
other than my friends, there are a lot of amazingly weak blogs that get a lot more attention than mine and a lot more hits and i keep thinking that maybe it’s because im not playing on the same field as they are in that i dont use the traditional blogger template(s). oh well. who cares. i do, a tad.
tonight i will work on making the archives look better. be careful with the super old entries – which, of course, blogger chooses to put on the to top – because i was only getting used to this format. still, it’s interesting to see how it all started.
did i like the game last night? no. pats shouldnta even been there. hot chick that i met last night drove me to work this morning and she loves listening to Rush Limbaugh so we were running late and i was forced to listen to his show. and the only thing worse than having the team that you hate winning the Super Bowl, is agreeing with Rush Limbaugh. he, too, it appears, thinks that the Raiders got robbed. Ditto.
saw the game at my lawyer’s spectacular new casa up in the hills of Griffith Park. not only does she have a view of the Hollywood sign, but it’s way bigger in person, than from the cheapseats down in the valley called Hollywood. wonderful friends, good food, nice Sony tv, drinks, bonding. intelligent convo, you know, the usual. makes you wanna hug people and say your prayers a few extra times. im lucky.
Back to the game: Mariah sang beautifully. U2 sang wonderfully. Britney looked good. After the game Mariah called from her suite in the French Quarter and asked if I liked her singing I said, of course. She said that she did too. I said, you know Mariah, I think it took a lot of courage to go do that she said, “thank you.”
I said, Mariah, “Glitter” has sold 2 million copies in 15 weeks and your label dropped you and people think you’re over. She said, “do we have to discuss this?”
I said, “it’s Black History Month, I think it’s a travesty that they’re doing this to you, when over history, there’s been lots of crazy white singers who popped pills, did drugs, and drank and freaked out all over who never got dropped.”
She said, “so you think it’s racism?”
I said, “I don’t know what it is, but let’s go over some of the other big time artists and how many records they sold recently and you tell me if they shoulda got dropped.
Jay-Z had a hit single with “H to the Izzo” off of his “The Blueprint” cd. It’s been out 20 weeks. Only went platinum. One million sold. Regarded as a huge superstar.
Nelly Furtado’s debut album has been on the charts 57 weeks. Over a year. Hyped as the next big thing. Double platinum. Two million sold. Same as you.
Dave Matthews Band “Everyday” is on the radio, commercials, shoved down our throats. Been on the charts 48 weeks. Nearly a year. 3 million sold. “Glitter” will hit 3 million after 48 weeks, bet. DMB is probably the biggest star in all of college radio – whatever that means.
Madonna’s Greatest Hits #2 – songs from the last ten years, has sold one million copiesin 7 weeks. No one is dropping her, well, because she owns the label.
The Backstreet Boys “The Hits” – somehow they came out with a greatest hits album as well just in time for Christmas. Hasn’t even gone gold. Less than .5 million sold. Drop them? Don’t think so. Is one of them crazy drunk? Yes.
J. Lo came out with her record. Good as it was with all those big singles and the videos and the MTV appearences and all that hype It’s been on the charts for 53 weeks. Only 3 million sold. Huh? Yes. Only three million sold. J. Lo was second only to Nicole Kidman as the most successful woman of the year 2001 and she only sold 3 million records.
Which brings us to U2 – huge tour. Lots of singles. Joey Ramone was listening to their record on their death bed. They toured almost all year long. Pay-per-view specials. they have a DVD out of their live concert in Boston from this tour. Fresh off a Grammy win and probably another Grammy – Mariah, they have only sold 3 million records.
Your 2 million records that you sold in the midst of all this hate and bad press shows that not only your fan base is as strong as ever, but maybe stronger than ever.
“Thank you Tony, you’re really a friend.”
Oh don’t thank me, baby. Thank Soundscan and Billboard, cuz in the old days, no one would have admited that they sold any copies of “Glitter”.
“OK, you didnt need to go that far.” she said and lifted her shirt and got some beads.
first mad props to Amy who not only sent in a Playbill from the Broadway play “Proof” (starring Jennifer Jason Leigh, for Ashley), but included a print version of “The Onion” and a lovely letter written on very tasteful letterhead. It’s good to have an adult in my small circle of friends to look up to and try to pattern myself after – who can also drink me under a table. Thank you, Amy.
next comes Ben. Ben has 1, 2, 3 web sites. All good, all worth your time. Nice work, my friend. Let’s all do Ben a favor and click on #1, even though I like #2 a little more.
finally, thanks to Kim, my extremely competent attorney, who is so good at handling my legal affairs that I don’t even have to show up at court any more, she’s worked it so I just pick up the phone every few months and say, “yes, your honor.” and the checks follow weeks later. let’s hope i sell a big time movie script one day, and kim can represent me and get a nice percent. note to self: don’t forget to write a big time script soon.
Tune in early to see Mariah singing the National Anthem at the Super Bowl on Sunday. She’ll be the one tastefully dressed who’ll give me a secret wink before she gets into it.
You heard it here first: Rams 45 Pats 12
Kitty’s auction is up to $22, girls can just get away with murder, can’t they? Ashley sold her old boots on there a few weeks ago and they went for more than she got them for: Just Because They Were Worn By A Hot Young Chick! Sheesh.
And don’t forget that tonight (or this morning, if you wanna be specific), right after Last Call, it will be 02:02:02 02/02/02. so do something freaky. like, oh i dont know, flow me two bucks so i can get a sweet ride.
who used to flirt with me in the halls here has started to pout, probably because i have never asked for her number. i gotta say she looks pretty awesome in her sweaters and the way she puts her hair up some times and she doesnt wear much makeup and, well it’s just ashame that she can’t read minds cuz if she could this is what she’d see/hear/read:
very interested, but i hafta clean my pad, improve my career, get a car, deal with the others, work on the biceps, get some new clothes, get some new jokes, and do my Black History Month series on my website, then maybe maybe maybe i would maybe get your phone number, but i dont date the girls that i work with, but if i did, i’d start with you.
ive totally turned femme. it’s really ashame. im cooking, cleaning, getting all weird cuz hot chicks dont want to be my friend. im judging girls by their personality and heart and not by the nastiness in their eyes or the things they promise that they can do when they make their little comments.
this girl started on the neck, right behind the ear and worked her way down and i was thinking, i wish she could work on the heart a little.
i havent watched porn in months, im reading books, im writing poems.
im even thinking that the Rams can cover that paltry spread.
last night this very very kind old white lady with missing front teeth, a palsiated foot, a cane, and the sweetest optimistic mind wanted to talk politics and welfare reform with me as we waited for the train a quarter mile beneath koreatown. she said, “things are tough, especially for young black men.”
i said, “things are getting better, though.”
and she touched my knee and said, “oh i love your idealism. im a hopeless idealist.”
and asked me about myself.
i didnt want to tell her a thing. im so sick of the whole story and who isnt? she was just lonely and wanted to talk to someone.
“im a freelance superhero living in hollywood, working for the xbi where i steal from the crooks and give to the homeless.”
“what’s that, hon?”
“im a student.”
“oh really, at UCLA?”
“uh huh.”
“what are you studying over there?”
“japanese.”
“how fascinating!”
“17th century japanese poetry, is my focus, but, you know.”
“Oh, all I know is hiakus. 5-7-5, right.”
“17th century japanese poetry is largely based in the haiku tradition!” I said, excitedly.
Then a black woman with an glittery hat with american flag designs on it offered to sell me a Feburary bus pass for a reduced cost. I examined it, she told her story about it and I gave her the money.
“You really shouldn’t have done that,” the old white woman said afterwards.
“Why not?” i asked.
“You could go to jail. She could have been a cop.”
“She offered it to me, it would have been entrapment.”
“So smart. Why don’t I see a wedding ring on you?”
“The girls I date are even smarter.”
And finally the train arrived.
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