calling all nexites

my name is tony. i am applying for a writing gig after many years out of college. i could use your help.

i am without any reasonable clip whatsoever, and my bound editions are MIA.

if, by chance, you would even have one article with my name on it that you think would be worthy to show a prospective employer could you please send it to me? i will make a copy of it and send it back to you.

your loviness will be returned upon you sevenfold.

just so that you know that i dont have a big head and thats why i think i could score this gig, here’s three girls fifteen years old who already kick my ass.

nay

emily

leah

lucky for me im cuter.

this chick’s sixteen. he’s seventeen. she’s eighteen. she’s nineteen.

im tony

someone sent me these two links and asked me if i believed after looking at the sites if i still believed that a plane crashed into the pentagon.

and my answer is, thank you for the links, i would much rather think that my dirty government was lying to me than think that a handful of yahoos could knock out a chunk of the pentagon while knocking down the twin towers.

but what would be the motive for the government to blow up one of their own buildings and look like a bunch of girls with their skirts down around their ankles?

maybe planes are made of materials strong enough to carry lots of weight, and light enough to fly, but crappy enough to explode into bits when crashing into a thick ass building at high speeds.

but what the hell do i know, i voted for nader.

but i do know three gay guys trying to make friends with four straight guys in the rain at comiskey park. and ladies, when we say that we dont want to work out or shave or shave our chests or shave our heads or get tanner cuz it’ll make us look gay, that is what we’re talking about. thanks fellas.

and by the way, dont say that the reason to turn all pretty is cuz the girls will fall all over you. its not true. what is true is that all those dudes are getting laid. and the real winner is the one who can do all that while being true to himself.

however, nobody cool hangs out with gay guys in the rain, topless

at comiskey park.

easiest bet ive ever made

the illuminated donkey called me out and i showed no fear.

Hey California! After tonight’s battle to see which team will be the next to fall to the unstoppable juggernaut that is the Nets, perhaps one of you would care to make a little…wager on the outcome of the finals. You know, like the mayors do. I can put up some local, representative goodies, like black-and-white cookies, saltwater taffy, and culture, while you folks could put up whatever the hell you people have out there (perhaps a nice shipment of El Pollo Loco).

I’m personally rooting for the Lakers, since victory will be that much sweeter against the defending champs, plus I personally can never get enough endless whining about officiating. – ill. donkey, june 2, 2002

to which i replied in his comment box:

i will be happy to overnight delivery you something tastier than El Pollo Loco. Beck immortalized Zankou Chicken in his slow jam “Debra“.

if the lakers somehow lose to the nets, i will overnight two whole Zankou chickens, slow roasted, a nice tub of garlic spread, and a dozen or so pitas.

since all the best parts of jersey have moved away: Springsteen, Martha Stewart, organized crime… you can go find the house that Springsteen grew up in and take a picture, frame it and send it to me.

get ready for another three-peat.

to which the illuminated one wrote back via email:

Mr. Pierce:

I accept your proposed wager. Go Nets! (The latest odds are something like 9-1 in favor of the Lakers, btw, as you may know.)

It should definitely be noted, though, that despite being temporarily tempted away by the California siren song of sunny days and models, Mr. Springsteen did quickly return to the Garden State, to marry himself a lovely Jersey Girl with sweet red hair. I tried the same thing, but instead of LA it was Seattle, and instead of marrying the redhead we broke up after a year.

But anyway.

Congratulations to your sister and family on the new addition. She has great initials.

Kenneth J. Goldstein

the best part about blogs

is not the fact that lots of strangers get to read your stuff and tell you that they think it’s good, it’s that you get to read their good stuff and learn from them.

bunny foo foo from Pan Trogs Blog links to an informative page describing How To Diaper A Monkey.

David from floor pie has a sweet little photo essay on going camping in the redwoods. if only i could find someone to do that with… sigh.

oliver willis has a petition that he’d like you to sign so that he could become Maxim’s Blogger. Me, i’d rather be Maxim’s photo editor.

for lunch the fellas took me to the Farmer’s Market and i had a dozen crawfish and a side of jumbalaya.

if anyone ever says that LA doesnt have it all, they have never lived here.

or theyre so dilluted they even think that the Nets could take the Lakers.

either way, i pity the fools.

tonight’s monday and i have nothing to do and i have nowhere to be and i really wish that there was monday night football on tonight but it’s the summer so maybe i can take an old friend to a cool bowling alley right down my street that has been in movies and junk but for some reason i havent been to yet.

oh look, the LA Examiner is reporting that the LA Unified School District wants to emminent domain the sweet alley.

What?

drive around my neighborhood and you’ll see lots of places where the LAUSD could build classrooms, why would they want to fuck with a bowling alley?

i see a photo essay happening soon.

Marc Weisblott has seen the future of television, and has reviewed it.

just for you.

yes, you.

my mom is a grandma,

and of course she will make a wonderful grandma, shes the best mom in the world, after all.

over the years my mom has taught my sister how to be the best mom in the world so i have nothing but good feelings for my little neice.

rarely am i one to talk about me losing to my sister, but heres a good one that im sure you’ll enjoy.

in our junior high, they had this thing where if you made the honor roll you’d get to go on a field trip with all the other honor roll kids to a Cubs game.

my sister made it no problem, me, i missed it by a point or two. it was tragic.

tragic because we didnt live very close to the friendly confines of wrigley field, so every visit was special.

one day a lot of the kids werent in school and i asked someone why and he said, “oh, all the honor roll kids are at the cubs game.”

i was all, “that sucks, i only missed it by a point or two!”

he said, “i know, me too.”

so he and i arranged for a bunch of kids to ditch the last few classes of school and walk over to the sod farm and we played baseball, out of protest.

some rich kid brought a radio and we listened to the game as we played ours.

the day was may seventeenth.

why do i know this date? because it haunts me like a ghost.

only 14,952 went to this afternoon game between the last place Cubs and the second to last place Phillies, starring my favorite opposing player at the time, Larry Bowa, and my two favorite Cubbies, Dave Kingman and Bruce Sutter– but those who attended will never forget it.

and neither will i.

The wind was blowing out and the Cubs jumped to a 7�0 lead in the 1st and lead 15�6 after three innings.

When the score had errupted to 21�9 going into the bottom of the 6th, we ran to Scott Fennesy’s house to watch it on tv.

Big mistake.

The Cubs gave up 12 runs in three innings like only the cubs could. they were experts at self destruction. they gave up just enough runs to send this wild game into extra innings, entering the tenth inning tied 22-22.

dave kingman had hit three home runs in this game, larry bowa went 5 for 5.

it may be the most vivid recollection that i have of all of junior high.

it may have helped that it happened all day.

mike schmidt broke the tie in the tenth by hitting a wind-aided homer (barely) over the left field wall off of bruce sutter, the best reliever in baseball, at that time.

and my sister was there.

and when she came home she tossed me the stub.