and that makes me happy, even though i disagree.

but this morning im going to do something that i believe has never been done before.

now, im no runway model, or rugged pretty boy musician, but somehow i can find dates here in LA.

i’ve asked girls out in person, on the phone, via email– ive even had success passing notes.

so today im going to ask a girl out via my Blog.

and i will do it without even naming her name.

watch:

dear single girl,

we’ve met each other. we’ve swapped some emails. we’ve had some drinks.

the last email i wrote weeks ago i said that i’d hang out with you and you never wrote back.

probably shy.

that’s okay, i like shy girls.

but i dont think youre so shy.

this is what i want, i want to go out with you one night soon. as in very soon.

all you have to do is email me back with your phone number and i’ll ask you properly.

you know it will be fun.

tony

no, not you Fidel, or you Jimmy, i have no problems with either of you, in fact you’re both showing a lot of chutzpah for being men about this whole thing and getting it together, but neither of you has flowed $40 or more into the Snoop Fund like SP did so…

That’s right, last night SP became a Stone Pimp and I was more than pleasantly surprised because I haven’t been hyping the Fund in a while and it’s nice to know that you dont have to constantly be holding your hand out to get someone else’s hard-earned samolians.

Thank you SP.

I’m speechless.

i nearly shit. no one knows about that line except my boss, so i thought i was getting fired.

it was him. “tony! the instapundit linked you!!!!”

i said, “no way.”

he said, “way! way way way!”

i said, “for what?”

he said, “for your stupid weezer thing.”

i said, “i think this is the first time that ive been linked by him since i auctioned off something ridiculous.”

my boss said, “why do you think he doesn’t link you?”

i said, “i think it’s cuz i dont write enough.”

my boss said, “yeah, and [click]”

it was my call waiting. i excused myself. who on Earth was calling my hot line?

“collect call from Rome,” the automated voice said. i dont pay the bills on the phone so i accepted the call, although i was about to pity the fool for not using 1800COLLECT.

“Tony I VON I VON!”

i would recognize that voice anywhere. it was anna. my love.

“of course you won, baby. i always said you would win.”

it helped that she wasnt facing Venus Williams who had dropped out, but i kept that to myself.

“oh it was fantastic tony, everything i hit was right. my shots were like lazers, my serves were perfect. oh, i wish you could have seen it.”

“trust me anna, we all wish we could see it.” i said. “what was the score?”

“6-1 4-6 6-1” she yelled.

God it was good to hear those upper registers.

“Anna you fucking killed her.”

“I know I know I know!” she said.

“hey did you hear that that st. louis jeweler said that he thought those pictures were of you because of diamater of your nipples?”

“whaaaat?”

“oh shit, anna i gotta go, my boss is on the other line.”

“but…”

“im so sorry, congratulations, kid, but i gotta go. im sorry, i’ll talk to you tonight.”

“hey!”

“this is the red phone, baby, you know that.”

“fine.”

“ok, bye.”

“hey!” she pouted. “dont you love me?”

“yes, i love you anna. nice work!”

“caio, babeee.”

mission accomplished.

in a shocking turn of events, venus williams took the court in rome minutes before her scheduled match against russian star Anna Kournikova to withdraw due to an injury to her wrist sustained while picking up a bag.

the compton native was entering her seventh straight week at number one on the wta ranking system as she was expected to defeat kournikova easilly in the $1.2 million tournament which is generally regarded as a tune up for the French Open which is held in two weeks. both the Italian and French Opens are held on clay courts.

williams took the court and picked up a microphone and apologized to the half-full stadium that had arrived early in anticipation to the match that was to pit two of the more popular women in tennis.

“It happened this week,” the 21 year old Williams said at a news conference later. “This morning in practice it hurt and then during the day it got worse with more swelling. I could have played with the pain but it did not seem correct.

“Hopefully it won’t be very serious. Hopefully I’ll be able to practice soon. I’m just going to take some time off and maybe finally see something in Rome,” williams said.

Lilia Osterloh of the United States took Williams’ place in the draw and will face Kournikova, who is not the woman that Penthouse claimed was topless in these revealing photographs.

when asked if he had anything to do with this odd occurance, hollywood journalist tony pierce had no comment, other than to say, “if anna wears that white top she can beat Lilia, but i doubt she wears it. that bitch is crazy.”

you know that. so let’s make up something. let’s pretend that me and welch (among a ton of people) worked at a paper in santa barbara. lets pretend that when welch was a kid he had a girlfriend, a first girlfriend, named shannon. and because los angeles is really much smaller than you’d ever imagine, of course shannon would go through life and find a new boyfriend, an excellent chap named justin who just happens to be super close friends with the fellas in weezer.

so of course justin and shannon lived for many years in the house where weezer lived for years when they were making it big way back when, which means that there would have been many parties at that house especially since the tune “in the garage” is really about that garage there at the amherst house which was soundproofed and is the perfect place for a midnight jam at a party.

so in my wildest dreams, would you think that rivers would be at a shannon justin party a few years ago? one of those years when he was taking a break from being a rock star? would you believe it if i typed that there was a teenage boy making a mess of the drums, jamming with justin and some randoms, playing cover tunes of all sorts? and would you believe that the teen sucked so bad that i kicked him off the drums and jumped in?

and would you believe that the shy little singer would pick that time to join the throng in the garage and take the guitar and ask us if we knew any nirvana songs?

i dont think you would.

which means you wouldnt believe that he had a spiral notebook that he cautiously pulled out that had about 40 of the seatle trio’s songs handwritten with notes and chords and doodles which he sang from as we cranked out a half dozen of the classic tunes.

and would you believe the hi-hat was broken and the snares were off the drum and i sucked at the dilapidated set but i was drunk and not believing what was happening.

but if youre lucky or super lucky, crazy ass unbelievable shit like that happens all the time to you.

but nothing in here is true.

he always had a smile on his face, his wife is hot, he was a minister, a farmer, but best of all his heart was always guiding him – not his politics or his weiner.

The man is 104 years old and when he’s not building houses for the holy he’s going down to Cuba and meeting Castro and Castro respects him so much that he threw on a suit and took off that tired camoflauge and even ran a brush through his hair. I bet any of you fake-ass republicans a buck that if Bush or Rush or Newt or any of those blowhards had the nads to go south Castro would have his warface on just as always.

And this is why you have the liberal peacenicks in the mix, to soften up the rudeboys and Jimmy is an american saint and we should all give thanks.

Lots of people have written in to ask me about my visit to Isla Vista and since I’m lazy and i’m trying to save the world over here, i will answer all the questions in this forum.

No, I saw the Leprechaun and he is alive! I even gave him one of my Guinnesses. He was sitting in this new park they have on the 6500 block of DP and he had like 3-4 cans of beer around him which means that I wasnt the only one who spotted him in his XXL Chicago Bulls parka being super sweet as always and saying nice things to karisa as we told him how happy we were to see that he was still alive. but it was weird. at first it was like seeing a ghost, cuz i was certain that he was dead. then i thought some bum was impersonating him to get the free beers from everyone, but after a minute i knew it was him: the coolest homeless man of all time.

Morninglory is gone. It’s a dollar store now. I don’t know where the kids buy their cds any more, if they buy them at all, but the best record store in the central coast has vanished.

we ate breakfast at Expresso Roma – not the Blue Dolphin, which Joe says got bought by a family that makes gyros during the week. The Roma breakfast was good but dont order your eggs “over easy” and unless you really want them “over well.” which might explain why there were no lines and plenty of tables available at noon on sunday despite the ideal conditions for eating breakfast outside.

at Roma we ran into Sean White who totally remembered me and said that he is still writing songs but has yet to find the right situation to perform them with anyone… yet. kind and charming and poetic as always, it was a treat to run into him and an honor to be remembered by such an IV legend.

saw one band setting up saturday night on Sabado, very few parties. very dead town. these kids should all be expelled

the friday Nexus looked good. some layout problems but a decent story on Attis and some partying going on in the staff box. we swung by there Sunday around 5pm and saw some kids in there banging out Monday’s paper. all looked well.

the Country Store at the UCen looked like it had been remodeled by AM/PM they still had bin food but absolutely no charm. i was tempted to say, “$10 on #6.” but i have a hard time cracking jokes when im dying inside.

the refecting pool in Storke Tower actually had water in it, a sight that i hadnt seen in the 7 years that i was at UCSB thanks to that drought.

the sorority girls stumbling home at 2am on Saturday night looked like they were all in junior high, and they were dressed with few clothes than i could have ever imagined.

at 145am on Saturday I made a Lucky’s run to Goleta and it’s not Lucky’s any more it’s Albertson’s. and the little league fields across the street have been paved over so as to befenit the Chevy’s and the Office Depot that’s so important to a community.

Woodstocks is as good as ever.

she was calling me all weekend leaving messages on my machine, filling it up. she was cocky. she was stoked that the topless penthouse pictures of her weren’t her.

“pick up the phone,” she’d say, “im going to win that mamma jamma.” which is funny on the web but funnier on your answering machine with her crazy russian accent.

“bitch is going down!” she declared.

anna is cool but after about the 5th or 6th message she started getting mad, asking why i had never gotten the cell phone set up that she sent me.

but now that i know how handy those phones are, i might consider activating the extravagant gift from our favorite tennis player on the tour.

anyhow, anna was feeling it and she won in straight sets 6-3, 6-3 whomping Spain’s Marta Marrero in her opening match at the Italian Open.

our girl had plummeted all the way down to #68 in the WTA computer rankings and i had bought her a football jersey in Goleta with the number 69 on the back and her name over the number that i was going to fed ex it to her, and i still might, but now the joke wont be as funny.

even though she now has the pleasure of facing Venus Williams in the second round, she’s being up-beat about it, but deep down she wants to beat her ass.

“I have nothing to lose,” anna told reporters, “so I’m just going to go out there, try and play my best game and see how well I can do.”

just wear that white top, hot chick, and all will be well.

if not, you’re going to get that football jersey.

ok, ive vented, you’ve gotten to vent, some of you even had some rather direct bits of advice for me and my friend. i appreciate your input but let’s all be gentlemen and ladies and lets head into the weekend with some positivity. shall we?

i might be the only straight guy who regularilly reads Ru Paul’s blog on a daily basis, but i love his style and he leads an interesting lifestyle and we both adore Mariah and “Glitter”. as can be expected, other than our boyhood pictures (scroll down) that’s where the similarities end.

likewise, i agree with the most famous cross dresser in his most recent post where he says that he’s pretty sure that when he looks back at these current times that he probably wont look at them as “the best years” of his life.

as much as i think he’s probably right, i think that means that we should work extra hard to make these times the best ever.

we already have a standard by which to judge, and most of us have the means, therefore, all that is lacking is the desire.

the best years of my life were in college where i met my friends and did a lot of the same things that i do now, so whats stopping me from now hanging with my friends more and doing what we did then?

and dont say Dick’s $150 million cuz we dont need that.

all we need is the desire to rock like we have never rocked and ru paul, thank you for the impetitus to get our asses up and out.

in a few hours im going to have some happy hour cocktails with a few hotties down the street, maybe that will segue to appetizers at a swank little bar with the Lakers on the big screen, and this weekend perhaps a roadtrip along the coast culminating in some sand, sea, surf.

the world is ours, good people.

lets show them how its done.

otherwise, you know, the terrorists win.

but after my weekly lunch trip to Baja Fresh, i saw today’s calander section right where it belonged: on the soiled floor in the last stall of the men’s room.

and there on the bottom of the front page was a nice article [password req’d: use laexaminer, password: laexaminer ] about the madness that ensued when those who actually did pay $60 for the right to buy $65 Stones tickets at the Wiltern WERENT ABLE TO BECAUSE THE SAM GOODY SITE CRASHED.

And then they revealed the truth that even if you did shell out the $60 to Sam Goody there were so few pre-sale tickets alloted to the Sam Goody malarkey that the Wiltern tickets disappeared “almost immediately.”

meaning, immediately.

there is one way to piss me off and that is to make it hard for me to see my favorite bands live.

i live an honest life. i work at an honest job where i do work that helps people. i save up my money so that i can blow it in a few hours, not with a hooker, but listening to the finest music created played by the original artists.

to have AssholeMaster find more people to gangrape me and then not even deliver on the promises that they made to those who were foolish enough to pay them is completely outrageous.

Microsoft went through hell to prove that they were not a monopoly, i would do anything, sign anything, PAY anything to make Ticketmaster go through the same shit.

in this era of computers and printers and etc. i wouldnt even mind if the government had a series of centralized computers RUN BY TEENAGERS that doled out the tickets to these shows for a minimal price.

why teenagers? because they know how to work fucking computers. why the government? because if im going to be fucked royally i want to know who is doing it to me.

i dont write any of this so that anyone will feel sorry for me or get me into the show, i’ll get into the show. i write this so i can get this off my chest and so that someone will tell someone in Washington that something is severely fucked with the system when Joe Sixpack cant see the rock band of his choosing after working for the man.

worried about riots, fuckers? keep making it tougher and tougher for a guy to take his wife and kids to see a sporting event, make it impossible for that guy to take even his mistress to see a rock concert, and watch what happens when that dude has no other way to get his ya ya’s out other than to drink his legally begotten booze, and carry his legally begotten weapon.

the purpose of the bread and circuses was to distract the prolatariat, not tease them into a frenzy and force him to rebel.

and in many ways i am, but heres the scamola of the day. if you didnt think that Ticketmaster couldnt get scummier, they’ve teamed up with — before i finish this, let me tell you something, even though I know in Heaven everything will be sweet and cute and probably a lot like a few juicy hits of Ecstacy where, i’m told, you dont have an agressively evil thought or action, when i meet the Good Lord and after he shows me around the place, I will ask him to escort me to the deepest pit of Hell where I will be able to meet face-to-face the merciless demons that run Ticketmaster so that i can do so many evil things to their psyche and soul that even He will grimace at the creativity and mercilessness that i can deliver.

oh, yes, i can deliver that too.

so anyhow, Devilmaster has teamed up with Sam Goody, the fucks who own Musicland or whoever, who bought Licorice Pizza Records, my first cool job… UGH@!!! they teamed up to find more ways to completely SCREW the concert-going public who actually work for a living.

Instapundit! Professor Booty! Prof. Volokh, how can Ticketmaster be allowed to continue their monopoly and not only charge ridiculous fees, but then charge me $14.50 for a $9 two day UPS shipping, plus they charge a $3.50 handling fee on top of their Conveniece Fees…

but let’s get to the point, which is so hard to do because im seething.

The Rolling fucking Stones are going to play one night only in one of the coolest music halls in America, the Wiltern. A place that I pass every damn day on my way to work.

In order to get those tickets, you have to pay Sam Goody $60 for the right to have them tell you when FuckerMaster is having one of their slimy Internet Pre-Sales.

And then — only if Sam Goody choses you, you will have the opportunity to buy two Stones tickets to the intimate show before the two left over tickets behind the pole go on sale to the public.

But who’s kidding who?

Ticketmaster has a huge tower on Sunset Blvd. right across the street from the Tower on Sunset.

The Wiltern isnt tiny (2,000 seats?), but every industry hack and every Ticketmaster/Sam Goody/Virgin Records ponytail gladhand will figure out a way to get in, which leaves, what, 5-6 tickets to your average guy on the street?

I can’t even finish this post im so pissed off.