props to kurt

who stoked the busblog exactly $6.66 in the name of Ozzy, and i can get behind that.

In fact, I invite each of you to be as kurt, how many people can we get to donate $6.66 before the month is over? my guess is six.

a gentle reader wants to know some questions about the Replacements, specifically “why did they name their record ‘Tim’?” and “whats up with the crazy graphics on the cover of ‘Tim’?”

he also questions why i would include the lyrics of “kiss me, on the bus” on this hallowed page, and is curious to why a lot of mats fans love that song so much.

i dont know why they named it Tim

i dont know whats up with the graphics, i suppose you gotta put something on the cover

i included the song lyrics of that tune because this is the busblog, and that is a great lil diddy about being on a bus.

and i think that fans like that song so much because it’s sorta sweet.

also, for all the people who liked the words to “If Only You Were Lonely” you can download the mp3 here.

this just in from my man Russ who writes:


Love your blog, but can’t flow you a buck at the moment so I’ll pass on this small tip.

The thing to get at Foo Chow is Fried Eel. Most of their food isn’t so hot, but the Fried Eel rocks. It is a regional delicacy from the (who’da guessed it) Foo Chow area of China near Taiwan. Also, the Mu Shu pork is decent. The rest of the dishes are well… you’ve been there.


it’s gonna take an awful lot to get me to eat Eel, as in a lot. i remember reading a book about babe ruth who used to catch eel with his mom in baltimore, before they sent him off to an orphanage, and how he loved it. and all the hotties who eat sushi swear by the snakelike fishlike snake, but i like chicken and wontons and all the normal things, but thanks anyhow, and anyone who goes to the jackie chan restaurant that we dis(cus)sed earlier this week, Russ has your back.

and finally Greg writes in and asks:

Hey Tony, I’m driving through Las Vegas tomorrow night, late.

Could you recommend a hotel? I won’t be gambling or seeing a show or anything. But I want to stay in a nice place. And I’m constantly flush with cash, because I’m a Republican (try it).

I ask you because you’ve got style. Indisputable.

Greg, the hard rock is karisa’s favorite but it’s off the strip.

now, if you want your car right next to your door, i like the howard johnson’s on south las vegas blvd by the stratospere, definately no fuss.

if you want to live like a high roller, the Bellagio is still the best, however Paris has its charm

at $100 a night it’s the same price as a Holiday Inn in San Diego, but expensive for Vegas standards, but Ceasar’s is my favorite because it’s the eternal classic.

throw a few chips on black.

keep those cards and letters coming. and while im here, lets give a huge shout out to my girl chris who went to a rave last night on a school night giving the middle finger to adulthood responsibilities and had her self a swell time from all reports. God, i love that girl.

The Replacements


Sire Records

“Kiss Me, On the Bus”

On the bus, that’s where we’re ridin’

On the bus, O.K., don’t say hi, then

Your tongue, your transfer,

your hand, your answer

On the bus, everyone’s lookin’ for it

On the bus, I am lookin’ for it

And everything ain’t O.K.

I might die before Monday (I might drive home one day?)

They’re all watchin’ us

Kiss me on the bus

Kiss me on the bus

If you knew how I felt now

You wouldn’t act so adult now

Hurry, hurry, here comes my stop

On the bus, watch our reflection

On the bus, I can’t stand no rejection

C’mon, let’s make a scene

Oh, baby, don’t be so mean

They’re all watchin’ us

Kiss me on the bus

Kiss me on the butt

the best kept secret of hollywood

is the Sunset Junction street fair held each year near the end of the summer.

last year Tsar played and Elliot Smith and some other bands whom i dont remember because this street fair goes really long into the night and the roads are closed and the freaks come out and if theres a party where they have ferris wheels, henna tattos, clowns on stilts, and chicken on a stick then im in.

plus this is a street fair in hollywood, friends. the amount of people-watching is unmatched, and that goes for any street fair in america, and ive been to them all.

this year the headlining musical acts include Sonic Youth and Mudhoney on Saturday and Sleater-Kinney and Pansy Division on Sunday. I think Mary Wells and Chaka Kahn will also be performing, but since Los Angeles only has one newspaper, and its online arm only bothered to give a one paragraph pre-write on the coolest happening this weekend, then i may have to rely on you, my good readers, to clue us all in via the suddenly barren comments section.

Sunset Junction: $6 “donation” – thats what im doing this weekend.

i know i might come across

as a tough guy with no feelings, no heart, no pride, impenetrable, filled with insight and joie de vive with telephones ringing all night so much so that the batteries die forcing the girls to drive to the bachelor pad, use their master key and climb in bed with me in the wee hours startling me and then soothing with a gentle caress and sleep-inducing hug.

but it’s not like that all the time.

sometimes i do get hurt and i sleep alone and i don’t pick up the phone and i wake up hot chickless with a saki hangover a sore quadricep and too many radios blaring commercials with only the solace of a tall glass of pulp free minute maid and the promise of a long hot shower to the dulcet sounds of led zeppelins “your time is gonna come” flowing from the sony sports boom box and my tears like the sand of last nights softball game slide down the drain of the yellow painted bathtub collect in the sewers of hollywood and parade into the deep blue pacific where they belong.

i don’t like to be treated as second best.

especially when i was always there for you.

its not easy to live my life and ive been rejected now some half dozen times this summer and im glad its fall.

all year long i look forward to the summertime but what for when we all live in southern california where it never rains and only the pages turn on the calendar while the weather stays exactly the same.

i don’t like being said maybe to while they pretend that the maybe part of the maybe actually exists. maybe i’ll get this proposal done this week, maybe i’ll clean up my closets, maybe my dreams will come true, maybe my princess will come.

maybe is the lie that the devil whispers when you look from the stands at the cheerleader girl who may or may not have a date to the dance and at halftime you build up the courage to approach her next to the grandstands while the marching band plays and you ask her if she’ll go with you.

maybe is the lie that she tells you.

and i have no idea why i want to be seen as number one on the lineup card playing shortstop and always given the green light to steal, but i want that and i feel i have earned it and if i haven’t i will steal it back rightfully or i’ll join the yankees and make you wish you’d never dissed me.

took the 20 to santa monica yesterday

after work west down wilshire. the 20 line is the one where the busdriver was spit on two weeks ago by a chap who then tried to climb aboard a week later. the bus driver wouldn’t let him on. driver said, don’t you remember me? you spit on me last week. rider hops atop the bicycle rack on the nose of the bus and the driver floors it. needless to say the man falls off the bike rack hits the street, bus rolls over him splitting him in half. payback is a mofo. fucked up thing is the bus driver will probably do 15-20 for murder two.

i got off on sepulveda, walked south past me and chris’s old apartment, past santa monica blvd, past sports club la where the beemers and escalades and turbo benzes get valeted and the stars do their pilates. next door is sportmart where i exchanged my too tight softball pants for pinstriped perfectly fitting baseball pants.

walked back to santa monica blvd, caught the big blue bus #1 (now just 75 cents) to bundy to transfer to the 14, check the little sign that tells you the times the bus will arrive, and i see that it’s past 730pm and no more busses will arrive, so i flag down a taxi and tell him “sunset and barrington” and excuse myself as i change into my baseball pants and cleats.

i don’t know what country my taxi driver is from, but when i asked him how his day is going he looks at me like thats the stupidest fucking thing i could have ever asked him, and i blow it off thinking its a 5 minute ride from santa monica blvd and bundy to the softball park in brentwood.


mohammed decides to take a huge fucking loop around brentwood, hitting wilshire, creeping towards westwood village where i tell him to take a left on sepulveda along side the veterans cemetary making the crazy loop onto sunset.

when we finally arrive the meter says $17.25, i say, “that’s nice, but that was a $10 fare, tops” i hand him a $20 and tell him to give me $7 back. he apologizes and hands me my change.

i take a taxi about once a month. i figure i don’t pay a car payment or insurance or gas. now that i’ll never have to rent a car again to see ashley, if i ever see her again, i can “splurge” and hail a cab a few times a month and still be way ahead. but what do you do when the cabbie completely goofs while keeping the meter running?

hopefully this entry shows you what you should do. and if it worked for me, a guy with baseball pants on, im sure it will work for you.

got to the field and carlisa and her sister were there. such great people. we won our game, they both played excellently, broke a few hearts, and then they decided that they wanted to go to Rock n Roll Thai – Toi Hollywood near sunset and vine. they ask if i want to join them. accompany two super hot fun sisters for thai food and beer and saki in a restaurant that plays excellent punk rock and stays open till 2am?

sure, why not.

we shared larb, pad thai, tom kha kai (xtra spicy), killer brown rice, and some glassy noodle chicken stuff that was completely uninspired, but we drank and laughed and drank and ate and drank and talked about their new business, Pink Cookies, and carlisa said that any of my readers who want to order custom tshirts, sweatshirts, etc. just mention the busblog and she’ll give you a special rate on her already low low cost.

pink cookies is the official designer of the xbi softball team jerseys. which is why we will look so badass.