till death do we part, honey bear.

so why do all these papers say we’re finito?

wishful thinking.

thats good. i almost gave my vile of your blood away to the first woman i saw this morning. she had nice legs though and i got jealous.

i decided to keep it for myself.

no one has better legs than you, ms. croft

mrs. croft, to you. i saw the bourne identity over at Sonny’s house last night.

i miss you.

and i got to tell you, i miss you too, that ending fucking reeked.

you kiss your mother with that mouth, baby?

yep, my brother too.

you know i was just thinking about how all these Hollywood studios spend all this money on special effects, and advertising, and big name stars, and writers, and directors, and costumes, and…

cut to the chase, sling blade boy.

i call it a kaiser blade.

mmm hmmm.

and the ending is Everything, yet they dont have an Ending Department. or some suit who’s VP of Endings.

good point.

am i going to have to start up a web site called DamnGoodEndings.com or some shit and show all these big wigs how easy it is to put a good ending on a movie?

good endings arent that easy.

sure they are, look at Karate Kid.

ok, mr. miyagi, you work on your crane move cuz im gonna be home in a few days and im gonna want to examine your progress.

ive been flipping through your pictures, waxing off to them.

putting it all into a special vial for me?

we’ll actually maria wanted a new necklace and it’s her birthday next week and…

hanging up now, gross man.

getting a new tattoo for you, hot younger woman.

what does it say?

it says “tonypierce.com”

oh you copy cat!

i know, i got jealous.

call me a romantic but i think all you really do need is love.

if my wife and i could only afford a double-wide, a bird feeder, and a grand am, as long as she kept me fed and didnt mind my beer belly, i would give her everything else she could want: three to four minutes of passion before bedtime, a lush yard, and constant reassurances that her ass still looks good under that housecoat.

i would only hope that she would let me do my smoking indoors, although that looks like a mighty comfy chair.

beyonce woke me up this morning, quite impressed that nearly 80 people have permalinked busblog since 6/2.

told ya it’d work,she snickered.

yeah, yeah, do you have any idea what time it is?

i have a question for you, though, tony. what are you going to do about all the nice people who linked you before 6/2?

well, beyonce, i said, lots of them are nicely linked on my Links page, but i might do something a little special next month. i am an appreciative fellow, you know.

just then the call-waiting clicked.

it was anna.

i hung up on beyonce and took the call.

hi baby.

hi anna, whats up?

just wanted to hear your sweet voice.

aw, thats so nice.

so what are you doing tonight, honey?

hmmm, that was a trick question, i thought. i knew that anna would be arriving in the wee hours from wherever she was flying in from, and i did have a date with Rosalita to see Adam Sandler’s new movie costarring our favorite crook, Winona, but i lied and said, “nothing.”

great, can you pick me up from the airport?

oh, shucks, doll, you know i dont have a car.

i know, im gonna send over a limo and i want you to ride in it and be waiting there for me when i arrive.

hmmm, what time?

9pm. i got a ride from John Travolta. he’s flying me in special.

and that, people, is how i started my morning.

hope yours began better.

tony’s lesson of the day: never lie in real life, only on blogs, or you might wind up with a sweet old lady in a trailer park after all.

79. easy bake oven

we kids had to listen to the radio. and twenty years ago The Who released “It’s Hard,” and had a little band called The Clash to join them on their farewell tour.

Because rock n roll radio has never been very creative, when the Who announced their demise, my favorite rock station chose to honor the british quartet by playing an entire day of their music.

the pierce family wasnt the richest, but i had all the equipment that i needed to caputre an hour and a half of the classic rock: i put my radio shack tape recorder (the type that had big buttons and a handle) next to the speaker of my alarm clock radio. i made two ninety minute tapes that i ended up playing nearly every day for the next few years.

people try to knock john entwistle, who died yesterday of a heart attack in his hotel room in las vegas, for not moving very much on stage. but what did you want him to do?

in the early days the Who not only had Pete Townshend’s trademark windmill arm movements and leaps and smashing of guitars, but you had Roger Daltry whipping his microphone around via the mic cord, but you also had the legally insane Keith Moon behind the drums who’s ass could barely sit still for a beat.

It’s my belief that if Entwistle moved more than an inch he would have been poked in the eye by a guitar or a mic or a drum stick or a drunken englishman.

even though the who rereleased their volumnous material since that ’82 “retirement” and have toured several times, and found a mini-resurgence in their music when “Tommy” took broadway by storm, they really didn’t make a serious studio album since “It’s Hard,” which is fine. They were done.

Such a perfect band with a classic history.

And now the Who are without their rhythm section and the Beatles only have their rhythm section.

i, too, hope i die before i get old.

75. The Path of Wrong

76. Not A Cowboy

77. Bunko Squad

78. Oh, It’s You