i have an inordinant amount of lawyers who visit this page. i have no idea why theyre attracted to these words, maybe it’s because im wrong all the time and i make them feel superior. (which is the only reason i ever find myself on Drudge’s page, so i understand.)

Max Power, our friend who won one of my crazy auctions, takes me to task for my Tyson defense. Maybe he’s right. What do I know. All I know is what I read and I don’t even read that much.

Apparently I’m the only man in America who thought that Tyson got the short end of his first offense when his booty call went bad.

And, to my naive surprise, rape is a touchy situation that brings up all sorts of emotions from my readers, many of whom are women.

I have always appreciated Law and I have always thought that if I was a better reader and student that I would have made a pretty decent lawyer.

Perhaps Power, who says he had a mighty fine seat in the courtroom when Alan Dershowitz argued for Tyson’s release on appeal, would be kind enough to answer some questions that a Black man and Tyson fan would like to know about his conviction:

Why did Don King give Tyson a tax attorney to handle this rape case? Why would you ever put an imbecile like Tyson on the stand? How often do first offenders of a date rape case get three years in the slam? What famous white men have done time for a first offense date rape case?

If Max is too busy doing things like, I don’t know, earning a living, I will be happy if any of you other counselors could flow your two cents into this discussion. And trust me when I say it is a discussion. Obviously I think Tyson got a raw deal. And of course I think rapists, be they first offenders or not, should go to jail for a very long time– way more than three years– but since that isn’t what normally goes on, why was Tyson’s case the exception… if, indeed, his was exceptional.

And then maybe one of you high paid suits can tell me why Ticketmaster is getting away with being a monopoly.

In other news, I can’t believe all the notes from dudes saying that they want more about Ashley. Popular opinion regarding my relationship with her is totally up and down and right now i thought it was down. I thought you people didnt want any more stories or pictures or adventures co-starring our glitter girl?

I’m so confused.

I’ve been really confused a lot lately.

So I will create a poll about Ashley later today and maybe you’ll be kind enough to help me out.

Did you see “American Idol” last night? Totally classic. Loved it. Reality TV at its finest.

Absolute proof that there is nothing worse than an uptight arrogant british homo telling you that you cant sing and you have to waddle off in your crop top and heels bitching with each step.

Put that show on every night and I will watch it every night.

I dare you.

and finally, Jodie Foster dressed as a nun is really unfair. Gerald Manley Hopkins is spinning in his grave.

you have come here in droves from that killer FoxNews columnist Ken Layne.

Layne dropped you off half-way inside my Britney review.

For the entire dealio go here.

If you want to go back to Layne’s column click here.

thank you.

caio!

when youre done, feel free to look around and you might even like the Anna Kournikova thing on the left.

yes i have my dreams.

some may be ridiculous, leading the Cubs to a world series victory thanks to my motivational people skills and gutsy baseball strategies.

but some are totally attainable.

lately my dreams have been coming to my doorstep and knocking, bashing, pounding, jamming their fingers into the buzzer and not releasing after quite some time.

some of the dreams are even rude.

would i like to date fashion models and actresses and bikini clad pop stars?

no, not really.

would i like to throw out the first pitch at Wrigley one day in my jersy and cap?

yes, but i’d wear the pants and shoes too.

first i’d check the imaginary runner at first.

lean into the catcher for the signal.

check that bastard at first again.

throw from the stretch.

raise both hands in celebration.

for the longest time i thought that my life would be incomplete without a girlfriend. in some ways i still think that, but just like 12 hours of sleep each day, that dream has faded away into a better reality that i do not Need as much as i thought i did, that i can be pretty happy As Is.

of course thats when the buzzer rings again and the Cubs want me to coach one of their instructional leagues but first i have to fill out some paperwork including a two thousand word essay on Why I Want The Job.

i could do two thousand words in my sleep.

im doing a few hundred words in my sleep right now.

but i resist the hoop that i must jump through. its crazy. i dont understand. all i have to do is take a step forward and yet i resist. everything that i think i can do and do well is right there within arms reach and i am hesitating.

and i couldnt hate matt damon and his buddy more but of course they deserve the gwenyths and the oscars since they obvioisly have no problem with the paperwork.

and to the form fillers come the riches and the spoils.

and to me, what do i have?

a blog.

and a buzzer.

my apartment was invaded by a tiny little rodent last month and anyone who knows me knows that i do not like little rodents and i screamed like a girl and considered many things including moving, including moving far away, including running for the hills.

and then i got super desperate and made a secret pact with the Lord that if he allowed me to survive the night that i would get a cat.

anyone who knows me knows that i dont like cats, but i dont like mice worse.

and this was just a frightened little tiny mouse but — do you have any idea how little i have to pay for my rent? you’d hate me if you knew.

i dont want you to hate me.

im watching Regis. i watch him every morning.

i like him a lot, but i like his cohost Kelly a lot too.

kelly: did you play sports in college?

regis: i played football.

audience: {laughs}

regis: i played under the name Paul Horning

kelly: no shit?

regis: Regis Philbin is my stage name

anyhow, my next door neighbor got kicked out of her apartment last month because it became known to the landlord that she had 5 dogs and 6 cats in her one bedroom apartment. she could have either gotten rid of her pets or move.

she moved.

but she left behind two cats.

i think one of the now-homeless cats ate the little mouse, which is something that i am praying for right now, watch.

Dear Lord, please let that cat have eaten that little mouse and any other mouse in and/or around my sweet pad. Amen.

but last night, after Chris dropped me off from our super fun italian candlelit birthday dinner in los feliz we were saying goodbye in my alleyway, and the church next door has lots of clergymembers who hang out around the doors of the church all night long. some like to jog around the complex. regardless, they all look at me. apparently im entertaining to watch.

one of the newly stray cats approached me and my exgirlfriend and started purring.

“please take me off the streets,” it begged.

it rubbed its neck against chris’s ankle.

then it stood next to me and looked away as if nothing was at all the matter.

“here i am, arent i handsome?”

i dont like cats.

i really hate rodents.

im sorta messy.

my maid is cleaning my home right now.

i dont think i want a cat.

but the Lord has delivered upon me a very handsome cat that i think would be able to get along with me.

i might even be able to make a little kitty door for the cat so that i would not have to bother with litterbox issues.

i think these days on the streets have been good for the cat.

i wouldnt want a lame ass pussy cat.

thats not the sorta house i run.

usually.

i would name it Losty.

22. http://haardvark.blogspot.com

23. http://istanblog.blogspot.com

24. http://annessa.net/

m&m’s doesnt need to worry about gimmicky new colors.

they already have the greatest m&m color: green.

even little kids knows what will happen if you eat a bunch of green m&m’s, nothing, but that doesnt stop the legend from being propigated and revered.

therefore, why isnt m&m/mars selling individual packs full of solely green m&m’s?

if you were about to go on a hot date, or wanting to appear sassy, or wanting to give a certain someone a tiny little chuckle and hint, or wanting to make a blushable girl blush– what better than a handful of green?

people who know me, like my mom, love to give me sacks and sacks of the candies that melt in your mouth, not in your hands, and when im not busy fending for my life after wave after wave of advances from visiting cheerleaders and brain surgeons of all nationalities but one familiar gender, im separating my m&m’s so that i can have a naughty little bowl of green m&m’s available when that always cool supergirl investigates my living quarters for the first time.

tell me you wouldnt pick up a nice big sack of green covered chocolates for your friends.

thats tonights brilliant idea.

come back to us next time when we bring you another.

says you.

“what do you call it?”

i dont know what to call it, but people linking me like crazy and i shoulda told you 200.

“you sound disappointed.”

well, even though i love the love from the good folks, there are a few sites that i want to be linked to that i doubt will ever link me, but these will do for starters, thats for sure. some are really fabulous sites:

1. http://kevinholtsberry.com/blog.html

2. http://hawspipe.blogspot.com/

3. http://www.biznicality.com/

4. http://www.willwagner.com/links/priv.htm

5. http://minutiataur.diaryland.com/index.html

6. http://www.dawsonspeek.com/

7. http://www.lablogs.com/weblog.php

8. http://pantrogsblog.blogspot.com/

9. http://bitchen.blogspot.com/

10. http://theinvisiblehand.blogspot.com/

11. http://www.spleenville.com/blog/index.html

12. http://blogsofwar.blogspot.com/

13. http://adder.blogspot.com/

14. http://capitalinflux.blogspot.com/

15. http://www.souptree.net/blog/index.php

16. http://portablematthew.blogspot.com/

17. http://paintedland.com/kokoro/links.html

18. http://www.members.cox.net/triptychcryptic/blog.html

19. http://www.tbotcotw.com/

20. http://bobthecorgi.surreally.com/

21. http://katesullivan.blogspot.com/

beyonce said, “who’s sites do you wanna be linked on?”

well, nay, of course, and rabbit, cuz i read them all the time, but why not instapundit this blog is as good as any of the ones he links.

beyonce said, “which part of your blog are you talking about, the fake stories about anna or the fake stories about mariah?”

shut up.

“why dont you just worry about getting 100 links total before july 9, then see if the others link you.”

how about you leaving me alone. hasnt your mom made you a new outfit that you have to try on yet?

“oh, that hurts.”

make sure your belly shows.

“did you get my email?”

yes, baby.

“did you look at the picture?”

no, anna, you know i dont open attachments. i have had the same 400 MHz computer since 98, solely because i practice Safe Computing.

“OPEN UP THE DAMN ATTACHMENT!”

yes, dear.

ok, i opened it. who’s that, dave matthews?

“uh, no. it’s Enrique.”

enrique?

“Enrique Iglesias.”

oh your boy. i thought his name was something else.

“no, you call him something else, but his name is Enrique, anyway that is not the damn point. look what he’s doing with that whore!”

hes singing with her. he is a singer, isnt he?

“he’s playing with her hair the way that he plays with MINE! I’LL KILL HIM!”

you know, that ponytail does sorta look like yours.

“what? ARRRRGGGGG!”

you could always try to make him jealous by getting it on with me, anna. i hear sometimes jealousy is the best policy.

“tony, can you just be my friend for just once in your life, and not try to be gross?”

ok, i’ll try. this is new for me though.

“what should i do?”

you should dump him. he obviously got a chick that sorta looks like you and told her to get on her knees, or whatever and he is obviously enjoying having her head near his crotch and–

“ENOUGH! you are being so sick!”

babe, he’s a singer. hes the alleged handsome son of a truly great singer. you’re just another pretty face that he used in a video. sorta like what Juvenile and Outkast do, but you’re not shaking your ass in a micro-mini, you’re being the hot famous celeb chick.

“I want to kill him.”

kill him by not seeing him any more.

“no, i want to see him dead.”

ok, russian gurl, you’re scaring me. you know i work for–

“yeah, i know who you work for. im just so hurt. AND I GOT HIM THAT HAT!”

if it makes you feel any better, i got that chick those bangles.

“bangles?”

yeah, i love bangles.

“tony?”

yes, anna.

“will anyone ever love me?”

thats a tough question.

“so?”

probably not. love is very hard to find. especially if youre not an american citizen.

“what is that supposed to mean?”

and especially if all you do is date like super hot male celebs who have women falling for them left and right.

“well who else do you think i should be with.”

nerds. they wont leave you.

“with my luck they would.”

you never know until you try.

“who was that nerd that drew barrymore married, he dumped her.”

you mean Tom Green?

“yeah, him, whoever. yeah him.”

oh, well, date a normal nerd, not a totally freaky one who drinks milk from the udders of cows. i mean, thats sorta asking for it.

“you know, tony, if you werent my best friend, i would totally date you.”

just what i wanted to hear, hot chick. i gotta go to bed. go win a tourney for me. that will show him.

“‘night antony.”

i’ll burn all my dave matthews records for you.

“good, but he’s not dave matthews.”

me too, good-nyet anna.

“dork.”

since the early 60s and i dont think he’s ever looked better.

because we’re friends we can agree to disagree (if we were enemies we would have to duel to the death), but the fox news columnist couldnt be more wrong about Iron Mike.

Mike Tyson brought more to pro boxing than anyone since Ali and yet he is constantly put down for being exactly what we loved him to be: a dirty high pitched short stocky thug.

you dont bring a teenage beauty queen to the hotel room of a twentysomething thug in the middle of the night and expect him to recite sonnets from memory and sit back in his leather chair of the suite and listen to her, enthralled, as she tells him about every little detail of her sweet little life.

mike tyson was a professional boxer at the age of eighteen.

before that he was a purse snatching thug.

he was lucky to find an old man trainer who knew how to mold that visciousness and salvage it into something that this elegantly refined society would deem acceptable.

he also had a young man trainer and they all worked together and created Iron Mike, the scariest and youngest heavy weight champion in the world.

when the old trainer died and the young trainer was fired and when tyson married a golddigging starfucker and her mother, he instantly turned into king kong minus the restraints, lord macbeth minus the cute accent.

the woods were coming to get him.

scratch that.

the king was coming to get him.

mike tyson was a confused, ignorant, uneducated, lisping bully when we all fell in love with him, and he was all those things when he was surrounded by robin givens, her mother, and don king.

he was a confused, failing, ignorant bully when he bit the ear off evander holyfield in The most amazing moment in professional boxing.

who was really surprised when he took a first bite at that thing, stepped back and watched Evander hop around?

were you surprised that tyson took a bigger bite the next time?

ripped off part of that ear

and spit it back at him.

after a quick chew

right there on pay per view

crazy warrior.

never say die.

bully.

thug.

there he was, now,

entertaining.

with an arthur ashe tattoo on one bicep

chairman mao on his chest

lord knows why

but i do know why i love mike tyson.

because he has never let me down, he has never surprised me, he has never disappointed me.

one fight the bell rang and most guys sorta dance out to the center of the ring and meet the opponent and then they

mike fucking ran across and started wailing on the guy before he had barely made it off the stool.

fearless fucking fighter.

but rapist?

desiree washington called tyson up, he sent over a limo, she hopped in, went up to his room, went into his room, and this is mike tyson, not that suave mother tony pierce saying all the right things, this is “ooh, like that asssth baby.”

hung out with mike, went into the bathroom, removed the panty shield from her

panties,

returned to tyson, who applied lube to

her

climbed on top of him and had sex with the champ,

then went back to her hotel

woke up in the morning and went to the miss black america pageant and participated in the dance routines.

and then later told the police that tyson had raped her and she was incredibly sore from the violent act.

of course, don king was nowhere to be found to help him.

infact, king didnt attend one day at tyson’s trial, but he did hire the champ his tax attorney.

the all woman jury found tyson guilty of rape and he did three years in the slam.

so the question is, why would the king want the champ to go down?

did king want the heavyweight divison to be more competitive?

did the division become more competitive?

in the wake of tyson’s false imprisonment, were 46 year old hefty has-beens like george foreman allowed to develop and regain the title?

knuckleheads like evander and lennox would have been beaten by tyson two or three times before they would have been able to become the headbutters that they became.

when mike tyson was accused of rape, he was at the top of his game with nothing but fallen challengers behind him and no true peers in the horizon.

the greatness of this manboy was stolen from him by people who have a history of manipulating men for their money.

i used to think that hell on earth would be to be stupid and ugly living in america.

now i think a worse fate would be being stupid and ugly living with don king

and robin givens.

im still with you, champ.

beyonce called me and i said, where do all of you girls get my number?

she was upset because the photos had come out and they revealed a much larger singer of the girl group.

“no one will ever love me,” she cried.

true, beyonce, but they’ll love your money.

“but i dont want them to love me for my money!”

sorry, baby, im probably the only man who will love you for who you are.

“even if im not a skinny girl any more?”

beyonce, it’s just a matter of time until any of our bodies start changing. yours just came today. it’s cool. i still love you.

“be my boyfriend.”

no.

“but…”

shhhh shhhh shhhh. i thought you wanted to be an independent woman?

“i do. on your living room floor.”

its messy there.

“after your maid comes.”

now, thats kinky.

“what is?”

ok, gotta go beyonce. cant wait for the solo record.

“but, wait. did a. beam get it right? are you really going to stop the busblog?”

yes. july 7.

“noooooo. why?”

all blogs should end after a year. its the only way to keep things fresh.

“but your blog is constantly fresh.”

but nobody cares.

“EVERYONE CARES. didnt you get like three million hits last month?”

yes, but i cheated. i put nudity on my site. thats not love.

“so like if like 100 sites that dont link you now, if they link you, will you keep the blog?”

maybe.

“say yes.”

ok, yes.