happy birthday, winona

thanks, tony.

what are you going to do for your birthday today, baby?

i’m gonna sit in the beverly hills courthouse and keep my mouth shut.

gonna steal anything?


what if something shiny catches your eye?

nope, no stealing today. dont hafta anyway.

whys that?

because today is the day everyone gives me something.

what do you want for your birthday, winona ryder?

i want a sexy 109-year-old man to give me a shoulder rub.

is that all?

then i want him to give me a foot massage while kitaro plays.

hmmm, it’s your birthday. anything else?

then he can wash my feet in a bucket of oranges and water and flowers.

thats it?

then i’d like him to kiss my feet with short little caresses and tell me im beautiful.

you are beautiful.

[whispers] no say that at the end, and mean it.

but i do mean it.

you do?


aw tony, you’re the best.

you can steal anything of mine you want winona.

if i did, would you promise to search me?

is today really your birthday?


then, yes, i would search you.

gotta look hard.



yes, we know this is wrong

and if i had the power to apologize for it i would.

disneyland is not the place one begins a victory parade that snakes its way through anaheim, but this is what happens when a mouse owns a team, and this is what happens when no one buys it from them before they win the championship.

it’s a blight to humanity. it’s another black eye to baseball. it’s repulsive. it’s girlie. it’s soft. it’s weak.

it has nothing to do with baseball, a game that is played by men on grass with metal cleats and wooden bats.

it’s okay to be bandwagon fans of the angels and lifelong enemies of disney corp.

the angels do play in anaheim, home of disneyland, which is owned by disney who owns damn near everything in anaheim, which is why it’s such a beautiful city.

disney owns The Anaheim Pond where the second leg of the parade went through. It owns Edison Field where the celebration congregated.

It even owns my favorite rock group Tsar.

hurts me to type that. even if it wasn’t for the carpal.

to parade the world champs through a theme park diminishes the achievement to a level of fiction, not fairy tale. another smiling face to throw confetti at like they were dwarves, clowns, or cartoon renderings of fake heroes.

call me dramatic but david eckstein, all 5’6″ of him, is a flesh and blood rendering of a real hero. nearly traded to the white sox, told all his life he wasn’t enough, was the spark plug and emotional leader of your anaheim angels.

he deserves better than to be seen alongside the likes of Goofy.

disney, im sure, are selling rally monkeys in their theme parks, but that trophy isn’t theirs. disney didn’t dig into their vault and spend massive amounts on free agents last winter. they treated the angels like a step child and now they want to bask in the glory of the ball, and because why again? because they let jeff edmonds go?

the x factor wasn’t the multibillion dollar ownership who has controlling interest in abc tv, espn, touchstone films, miramax, buena vista, and many others.

the x factor was a monkey.

body language might mean something in the rest of the world, but in southern california it’s all about what you wear on your body. when michael eisner accepted the world series trophy while sporting an old school mickey mouse tshirt, he couldnt have said it any better.

the back of his tshirt should have said, “no matter what you do, angels, you’re unloved, unwanted, and currently a cute plaything for the house of mouse. thank you for the free publicity, but you will be sold to the highest bidder like a beanie baby on ebay.”

maybe the back of the tshirt did say that, which is why mike had a blazer on.

far be it from me to rain on the victory parade. the angel fans deserve their day in the sun, which is why i’m glad that the big Ed is far enough out of the shadow of the magik kingdumb.

up yours

last night a bunch of us went over to palermo

a fun family style italian place in the middle of the hip part of vermont ave in los feliz.

you’ll see cops sitting there sharing a pizza, armenian families twirling spaghetti, cool kids draining bottles of wine one after another. they give you pizza bread when you sit down that really looks like little slices of pizza. they give you garlic bread.

if they dont give you your soup, they’ll give you a bailey’s on the rocks to go along with your veal.

mmmmm veal.

they have 8×10 glossys of celebs on the walls, some you might have even heard of.

walls full of bottles of wine and wine and wine. even a few tvs for your monday night football enjoyment.

i was surrounded by good friends and we talked about how the russians should have handled the chechen rebels who took over that theatre. the consensus was if you’re going to gas a theatre of opiates into a crowd of 700, have a bunch of ambulances waiting outside and a large supply of the serum on hand.

ruskies. no wonder a non-war crushed em.

we sat in the little ante-area that had a balcony overlooking us. it made you feel like you were in a little corner of roma with your best girl, minus the dirty pigeons and tourists.

afterwards we converged on my bachelor pad and drank assorted beverages. os loves my cuban rum as much as i do, so it’s always nice to share that with him. layne brought over a perfect bottle of red. kitty bukkake brought over a fresh loaf of zuccinni bread.

i drank beer as we watched the sopranos. weird ass episode.

seemed like everyone smoked. because theyre polite they went outside to smoke but i told them that in my house my friends can do whatever they want, so then they smoked inside, where they belonged.

when kitty left and we realized that we were all dudes, someone asked me to put in some porn.

always one to fulfil the requests of my visitors, i selected something from playboy tv.

it was met with loud disdain.

i replaced it with something a little more spicy.

that didnt please the fellas either.

then i put in something downright disgusting.

it shut them up for a few minutes.

then someone yelled, “why are there so many dicks on the screen? i want pretty girls!”

the weakness in my collection was revealed. not a lot of lesbian love in my cabinet of smut.

one drunken guest bitched until 230am and then i had to kick everyone out.

some of us had to work in the morning.