hi tony

hi anna.

i won again.

you sound surprised.

i am a little surprised.

get used to winning, you have a heart of a champion.

i do?

something under your shirt is nice, i thought it was your heart.

do you miss me, tony?


do you want me?


come and get me.

gotta go to the company bbq tonight, anna.

poo on your bbq.

too late, they invited the counting crows, it’s already pooed on.

i miss you.

you better.

i cant believe you’re only an hour away from me and i cant have you!

comrade, carlsberg is like 3 hours from hollywood, even on a good day.

still, i feel so close to you.

that’s just the vodka talking.

don’t you want to hear about my match?

not really.

come on, i won 1-6 6-2 6-1 over Conchita Martinez!

the spaniard?


what happened in the first set.

i did like you told me to, i rope-a-doped her.

how did you do that?

i made her run around in the hot sun. i let her win the hard points but on the easy ones i made it more of a game than i needed to.

like how?

i could have slammed a point home, instead i hit it in a place where she could return it. we volleyed. A LOT. and i just stayed on the baseline and made her work for it. by the second set she was exhausted and i kicked her ass in that one and in the third.


just like you said.

so how will you repay me?

oh, you’ll see.

give me a hint.

when you get home tonight there will be a package on your doorstep.

what will be in the package?

some things that im sure you’ll like. including some pictures of me in some outfits that i will wear when i see you next.

you’re the best anna.

no, you’re the best tony.

yeah. i know.

waiting: for the perfect pill

if you read this page a lot

which a surprising amount of you do, you will notice that i don’t talk about the weather much.

i talk to my mom every weekend. karisa talks to her mom every day! maybe i would talk to my mom more if she didn’t always revert to talking about the weather.

when i hear the conversation drift to meteorology it’s the equivalent of someone yawning and saying, “an-nee-waaaay,” i’d much rather they do as rene often does and just say, “love ya babe, bye,” and hang up.

there are a few exceptions to this rule. jillian barberie can talk about the weather any damn time she wants.

you might know her from fox sunday football where they have figured out a way to get her to talk about the weather in the cities that will host football games later that day.

it’s really just a scamola to get her on tv in front of a bunch of horny male viewers so that they can see her prance in front of a weather map in the latest of todays sluttier fashions, but you don’t see me complaining.

in fact if i inadvertently got sidetracked with CBS’s pregame and miss jillian’s little dance, that’s when you hear me curse that i don’t have Tivo.

Jillian is also on “Good Day LA” my new favorite morning show that comes on right before Regis & Kelly as well as “Good Day Live” that comes on right after Regis & Kelly.

there she sit on a chair that has pillows on it so that you can see her belly even though shes sitting behind the table.

i like that.

she is there to talk about the weather but they usually give her other things to read off the teleprompter and she convinces people to take in stray dogs as well.

i think that’s nice.

the other person who can talk about the weather any time she wants is ben’s little sister kate who writes her ass off each and every time she scootches up to the keyboard.

spending the summer in minnesota, birthplace of bob dylan, today kate takes time out of covering rock music and devotes some space to mother nature, which is indeed different and more interesting in the midwest than it is in this climate controlled oasis of hollywood.

enjoy the gangbang of thunderstorms while you can, dear kate.

and don’t forget to catch some fireflies on your midnight romps barefoot through your daddy’s lush backyard.

i hereby promise to go to more than one Clippers game next season

naomi cant keep her mouth shut

and it’s starting to piss me off.

these freaking supermodels have been summer subletting the apartment upstairs from my hot neighbor, who it turns out is a modeling agent and apartment swapped with the ageless beauty this summer. normally i like to keep my drapes open in my bedroom because i have a very temperamental plant that my pal ann ferris got me back when i lived in frisco with layne and hilldale and hickey and hornberger and it was the first plant that i managed not to kill.

so sometimes, when im changing someone will walk past the window and i don’t think anything of it, but i guess i was re-reading “dot con” the other evening and naomi got a glance and my girl got on larry king the other night and starts telling all my secrets!

i swear to you, america, im just an average man.

and size doesn’t matter anyway, ask half the girls who wont do me any more.

in the last few days ive been playing a “what if” game with one of my co-workers during lunch. libras love this game, ask meesh. the other day my coworker, who is also a libra, asked me “what if, like in that tom hanks movie ‘cast away,’ you had a wife who took a trip and ended up in a plane crash. she doesn’t return for years and everyone thinks shes dead. you have a funeral for her and then remarry.

years later she gets rescued from the island and comes to find you happily remarried. what do you do? do you break up with your new wife or do you tell your old wife that you’re now in love – like they did in the film – and continue with the new wife?”

i said i would have to keep both of them.

she said, come on, be serious.

i said, i am serious, and any woman who would know me enough to marry them would know that i am serious. my old wife shouldn’t be punished for being in a plane crash. why should she be without her husband? and the new wife shouldn’t have her husband ripped away from her. and biblically you can have more than one wife, so this seems to be the perfect solution.

so yesterday my co-worker asks me, “would you do anna nicole smith?”

to which i replied that i was in college when anna nicole made her Playboy debut. most people don’t remember that she wasn’t even nude in her Playboy debut. from what i could figure they discovered her and she was so hot that they said, fuckit, we don’t have enough time to get a whole photo spread put together, but we can certainly get one great picture and throw it on the cover.

which is what they did, and she was one of the sexiest cover shots that ive ever seen them do and i fell in lust immediately.

personally i love anna nicole. i love how she seems stoned all the time, i love how sexy she is. i love how she looks sexy no matter what her body looks like. i love her white trash sensibilities and her absolute honesty. i love that when she had money she leased marilyn monroe’s former hollywood hills house and filled it with marilyn memorabilia and locked herself up in it.

i loved how she went on howard stern yesterday morning and said that she hasn’t had sex since her former husband expired and that she masturbates all the time. i love how she said that shes basically a nympho who would give it to her next boyfriend ten times a day and would probably kill him too.

but, i told my coworker, i could not have sex with her because before she married the billionaire texas oilman senior citizen, she had been previously married to another man and then divorced. and the Good Book is very clear that its not cool to mess around with divorced women.

my coworker, who is totally catholic said, “no way.”

i said, yeah, which is why i don’t return mariah’s calls and now, j.lo’s.

my coworker, who goes to church every sunday, said, thats the silliest thing ive ever heard.

and then the batphone rang so we hopped into our car and flew off down wilshire.

kevin has flowed a buck into the snoop dogg fund four days in a row. surely someone wants to join him in this race. surely.

today: is our annual xbi summer barbeque and im gonna finally talk to this hot chick who has been smiling at me for months. wish me luck!