this time your momma wont be able to save you.
rematch, sunday, bitch.
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Monthly Archives: November 2002
whaddup mj
yo, mailman.
you fixin to retire soon?
nope.
me neither.
what do you think about ashley and tony.
same ole same ole. i take a drink every time they break up.
why doesnt he just make her his girlfriend and get it over with?
i think he likes someone else.
who?
everyone knows.
who?
anna.
oh, her. shit.
hell i’d wait around for that shit.
dude, did you see fragrant’s latest photo essay?
of course, i lurve her.
me too.
what happens if it turns out shes not a anorexic ex fashion model after all and really a three hundred pound dude?
i guess that would make us gay.
did you see the one she did in october?
yes. im telling you. i’m all about that psycho killer.
qu’est-ce que c’est?
did you see hbo do that nice little tony tribute to get his readers to buy his book?
oui.
why are vous parleying en francais n shit?
ameusment
can you believe the Vodka Pundit gets so many hits and he barely writes anything?
how do you know he gets a bunch of hits?
watch what happens when he links to the busblog, people flood like crazy. its amazing.
maybe he gets lots of hits cuz people keep seeing if he’s written anything.
no, he gets a lot of hits, trust me. tons. and he normally writes a bunch more.
it’s that picture. ladies love the blog of a handsome man.
then why does tony get so many hits?
sometimes popularity knows no reason. ask the bush family.
i had a nightmare last night.
do tell.
i dreampt that bush beat gore in ’04, honestly this time, and then jeb ran for it in ’08.
the most likeable bush of them all.
oh god.
life is pretty much over, isnt it.
god, i really hope so.
i was going to be eight minutes late for work
and i knew my boss was going to get on my case and i wondered if i should tell him the truth when he would ask me why i was late.
would i lie and say subway problems?
or would i tell the truth which is blonde girl showed up on my doorstep at 2am. the shoes that she came to retrieve were nicely packed into a box next to the satellite dish. in the box was a magazine with her favorite band on the cover and under the magazine was a tape of an hour of her favorite actress on it.
i might not ever talk to you if i break up with you, but if theres a box on a doorstep from me to you, odds are theres probably gonna be some good shit in it.
unfortunately, like most things, this made her cry.
she cried and knocked on my door. tap tap tap tap.
i snored peacefully.
bang bang bang bang.
more snoring. very little can wake me from my slumber. its the only time this haunted mind can stop dreaming and talking and rest. and when it rests it shuts off completely.
however, the nice woman who lives upstairs can be woken from her slumber.
disturbed, she got up and went to her balcony and her hardwood floors squeaked and somehow i woke.
knock knock knock knock.
i went to the door, turned on the porch light, opened the door. daisy princess sobbing. can i hug you she asked.
no.
did you guys see giselle last night when the protesters hopped on the catwalk? she didn’t miss a beat. every step she made was exactly the step she would have taken if no one was there. my visitor never blinked.
i allowed the twenty year old into the home. let her hug my back. i turned off the porch light. shut the door. went back to bed and quieted the disturbance that my neighbor was experiencing.
perhaps this isn’t what a pro would do. and obviously im no expert on women. i am a victim. anything that happens to me is because they make it so.
when i was in college i learned from the frat boys. they were handsome and rich and they had nothing inside of them other than mgd and semen but what i learned was no matter what ignorance they spewed or how many times they’d listen to “legend”, because they were surrounded by women with low standards, they were always satisfied.
so i learned to show up in places where there would be hot babes, keep my mouth shut, and have a clean apartment with a second pair of sheets somewhere.
all my body wants is peace and quiet and a nice hand to hold.
ashley is much more than that, and she isn’t right for me and im not right for her and the frat boys would sometimes throw stephen stills in the boom box and you know the one, where the eagles fly with the dove.
some people can let the sands of the hourglass stream through as they wait for their dreams to come true. im not so patient. i have no willpower.
i might not ever find the girl of my dreams who also thinks im the boy of her dreams but im not so sure its a great idea to sit around alone while i figure out the answer.
she apologized and made promises and asked me if there was anything that she could do to prove that she was sorry and i thought of a few things.
let me sleep with all of your friends.
she sniffed and hiccuped still sobbing a bit.
even the fat ones.
she said, im the only fat one.
then i said take off your clothes.
leather chaffs at three am when you’re trying to sleep.
Temptation
(Costello)
Who’s this kid with his mumbo jumbo
Living in air-conditioned limbo
Though they treat him just like a guest
He’s living under threat of arrest
Now that he’s finally trying to make some sense
He drinks in self-defense
Give me temptation
The subtle touch of authority will
Take you anytime down to the station
You say that it’s alright by me
Now you’re living with the curse of sophistication
Now that you’re shackled up to the rigmarole
With absolute control
I see you lying so wide awake
After I’ve given you all that you can take
So for heaven’s sake
Give me temptation
Still you want to succeed so badly
Finding your life will not be deadly
You tell me you can take it or leave it
Sometimes I think that you really believe it
You’re just itching to break her secret laws
As you go from claws to clause
Give me temptation
i know martina, i miss anna too.
but she’ll come back soon.
i know, baby, in a way shes my best friend too. i know shes your doubles partner. but shes sorta my doubles partner also.
life isnt the circumstances that happen to you, its how you handle those circumstances. so dont cry. not here. not in front of everyone.
shhh shhh shhh.
it’s okay.
youre both young and talented and rich and cocky and youre good for each other. i have no idea why you let her date guys like enrique even if it is a joke, but the joke has lasted long enough and if you wanted to get me jealous im jealous. i want her back as much as you do.
dont you think i want to make money off her ass too?
lets play a game martina. in her honor. it’ll be like a russian drinking game.
every time you miss her you take a shot of vodka.
or write a nice letter, or do twenty push ups, or pop in a tape a naughty tape. and then call me.
in fact why dont you do all those things in that order every time you miss her.
i know shes your best friend, but thats not really cheating.
the phone? please. you cant cheat over the phone, plus im not really her boyfriend.
technically enrique is her boyfriend. phhhhhttttttttthhhhhhh.
so go back to your game now, baby.
she’ll be back soon and she’ll be back better than ever.
i promise you.
mc brown has the low down
on the new quentin tarantino film that just happens to be filimg in marc’s garage. the same garage that moxie let me park her porsche halloween night.
did i tell you how ridiculously skinny that girl is? how tall those white patent leather boots were. how all the bums and crackheads of echo park just froze when she strutted down the street in her pink dress and the weis-ster on her arm?
everything revolves around marc though, you should start to learn this.
if the mc hadnt been the music director at kcsb in 89 grunge woulndta never happened and kurdt might still be alive.
speaking of which theres a girl who works here who has eyes like courtney that drives me crazy. she saw me in my baseball pants yesterday and i caught her taking a second look. i thought about asking for her number and then didnt go for it. then thought how cool it would have been to ask for a girls number while wearing a cubs hat and pinstriped baseball pants.
guess i’ll have to wait for that opportunity next week.
lets hope shes not married to a guitar god by then.
speaking of one degree of marc brown, he did the design for rupauls blog. and rupaul has recently seen “bowling for colunbine” and puts it on his top ten list for the year. which makes me wonder why siskel didnt partner up with ru when he was looking to fill gene’s seat.
it also reminds me that i really need to get that public access cable show “Bloggers” going and have ru be the weekly special guest star.
as in weekly.
since im thinking, i was thinking, why hasnt someone made an IMDB for music? all music guide is good, but it could be improved by like, a lot.
then i was thinking that theres not one all-encompassing place for entertainment news. like an Entertainment blog. some one might want to call it an E Blog.
hmmm.
then i was thinking that i love sksmiths writing. if she wrote a book i would buy it. i bet she could write a book pretty fast.
write a book, sksmith
the weisboss sent me a link to a paper in minnesota
that reports on the homecoming of former Replacements bassist Tommy Stinson who’s in a new band called Guns n Roses.
Guns is playing tonight at the huge basketball arena. not exactly where you’d expect to find everyone’s favorite local punker, but you know, who really cares these days? tommy sang back up for P-Diddy in “all about the benjamins” so why not fill the boots of duff and count your thousands.
heres the story in its entirety cuz i just dont care today.
Guns ‘N Roses a fitting replacement for Stinson
Chris Riemenschneider
Star Tribune
Of all the weird rumors that surfaced about Guns ‘N Roses in the past half-decade, the one that most surprised local music fans was news that former Replacements bassist Tommy Stinson had joined the multi-platinum metal band.
That was almost three years ago, and some people still cannot believe it. Of course, that’s partly due to the fact that Axl Rose and his all-new lineup of players have only played six gigs total in that time. The proof will finally be in the cranking Thursday night, though, when the new GNR makes its debut at the Target Center with Stinson on bass.
Tommy’s addition to the band seems to fly in the face of what the Replacements were all about. The Twin Cities-reared garage band offered fast-paced rock ‘n’ roll without flashiness, concept or pretense.
However, maybe Stinson isn’t such a bad fit for GNR.
“I’m not the least bit surprised,” ex-Replacements frontman Paul Westerberg said last spring of his old bandmate’s new gig. “People don’t move to Los Angeles to be a musician or a songwriter. They go to be a star. That’s what Tommy is doing. . . . It’s what he’s always been groomed for.”
Since Stinson himself was not available for comment (no one discusses Guns ‘N Roses to the press except Axl), we decided to look to the bassist’s storied history for proof that he is GNR material:
� 1978: Tommy’s older brother, ‘Mats guitarist Bob Stinson (since deceased), threatened to beat up the 12-year-old if he didn’t learn the bass. Lesson applied: His first of many experiences with bossy bandmates would make Axl more bearable 20 years later.
� June 1980: The Replacements’ first gig was in the basement of a Minneapolis church. Lesson applied: His first of many experiences with Christ figures would make Axl more bearable 20 years later.
� Spring 1983: Stinson dropped out of the 10th grade to tour. Lesson applied: It doesn’t take a genius to gig in a rock band. Especially one that averages two gigs per year.
� 1983-85: The Replacements build a reputation for erratic, alcohol-soaked live shows, some brilliant, some notoriously sloppy. Lesson applied: GNR’s early troubles with heroin produced equally mixed results, but at least they never resorted to Jackson 5 or Yes covers.
� 1985: Like the rest of the band, Stinson allegedly doesn’t read a single sentence in the Replacements’ major-label contract with Sire. Lesson applied: So when your new boss comes around saying you can’t do any reunion gigs with your old band — as was rumored but is debunked by Westerberg — don’t ask if it’s in the contract.
� Summer 1986: Tommy stays in the Replacements after his brother is kicked out, allegedly (and thus hypocritically) for alcoholism. Lesson applied: Doesn’t seem so bad (or hypocritical) compared with Axl kicking out all of his bandmates for personality issues.
� 1990: Tommy sings lead for the first and only time on a Replacements song, “Satellite,” originally issued on the “Don’t Buy or Sell — It’s Crap” EP. The track was actually quite good. Lesson applied: It doesn’t pay to contribute your own songs to somebody else’s band.
� 1993-96: Tommy records a wildly underrated rock album with his own band, Bash & Pop, and again goes through the record-company wringer with another group, Perfect. Lesson applied: It also rarely pays when you release songs with your own band. So why not earn a regular, respectable salary and let somebody else deal with the labels, managers and botched tour plans?
——————————————————————————–
IF YOU GO
Guns ‘N Roses
Opening: Mix Master Mike.
When: 7:30 p.m. Thu.
Where: Target Center, 600 1st Av. N., Mpls.
Tickets: $33.25-$63.25. 651-989-5151.
hi it’s still tony’s blog
ony’s oversleeping. if he had simply installed a little peice of software in his computer it could Tivo for his ass, it could run the stereo into his bedroom, it could turn on the lights for him, and it could be his alarm clock in the morning.
instead all he has that box do is download porn he never watches.
thats your hero, america.
number fifty-five on the weblogs top one hundred today.
so i got nothing to say. im just a blog.
but i can lead you to places that you would probably like.
you might like this shit. it’s twisted and a little sick, but it’s funny.
moxie keeps wanting to put this picture up, lord knows why. i know why, you can look at it and ask, how does that guy get any?
this ive seen before, but it’s still funny.
now this is interesting. this is the Site Meter of those sorority girls. you people are perverts.
speaking of wrong. whats up with the major leauge all stars in japan? last night MLB won its first game against the japanese stars. that was their fourth game. and whats worse is a bunch of japanese stars have been in cuba for an international tournament. so my question is, how much did japan pay for mlb to throw these games?
this girl still hates tony, too bad she doesnt update more.
meesh doesnt hate tony, and she updated last night.
look at all he gives you. i have a feeling that once he wakes up he might not post again until he gets ten quality comments for this love he’s showing you.
and finally, our boy has two tickets to the no doubt / garbage / distillers show at the long beach arena the day after thanksgiving. surely there must be a young woman who wants to pick him up, dressed sexilly, brimming with compliments, and dying to spend a little quality time with him.
or perhaps theres someone who wants to pay pal his ass $100 and the tickets are theirs. theyre floor seats. show up early and you’re in the front row.
metafilter discusses drudge getting a billion hits in a year
hi everyone, this is tony’s blog
i’d speak in italics but thatd be annoying and those are his gimmicks, not mine.
tony is passed out, pissed that the los angeles parks department has had five days to take care of the softball fields of this fine county and hasnt done so and the xbi playoff game had to be postponed until next week.
he also was given the news that the xbi wasnt interested in a blog for their website, the job that he secretly has been applying for despite being handed the promotion to captain of chopper one, the finest, quietest, fastest, most deadly immoral black uber copter in the bureau.
blogs are considered amateurish, he was told.
and i say good. finally he can quit holding back in this blog. and if he wants to say fuck he’ll say fuck. if he wants to say raymi is one sexy bitch, he’ll say it.
raymi is my secret canadian love slave.
she cant keep her clothes on.
she likes you to see her naked.
shes funny but not in a cutesy way.
and no way in hell is she nuh nuh nuh nuh nineteen.
hey, nineteen.
tony holds back on you so much.
sometimes i wonder if his foot gets tired mashing that brake like all day.
this girl came over the other day and tricked him into having sex with her.
super pretty girl but that didnt matter she wanted it rough as in ouch bitch
maybe she’d been a stripper once cuz she whipped her hair around like a pro
kept trying to get the upper leg
sunk her teeth in, defied gravity, shape shifted, scratched, turned into a wolf at least eight times
how come he never told you even one thing about her?
and what about the one who sat on one end of the room and talked so dirty in such a sweet voice
and she lifted up her dress and
she said no you sit right there
even the music stopped the lights stopped twinkling the wood didnt dare squeak everyone wanted to watch this little whisp of a girl with her legs out like that and her eyes zeroed in on him and his eyes zeroed in on her lipglossed filthy mouth
she was saying things that he wished he’d said
things that still suprises him when she calls up now and then and reminds him
i bet he wasnt even going to tell you about what happened in the subway today at hollywood and highland which is a crying shame cuz if he doesnt tell you then who out of seven hundred and fifty thousand blogs is gonna tell you, hollywood and highland of course the new center of hollywood.
black dude comes out i swear to you with a boom box on his shoulder busting with the hip hop.
it’s jay-z’s the blueprint part two.
different black guy in a dress shirt and tie says is that part two
and they give each other the soul shake finished off with the one shoulder hug, pat on the back
boom box guy danced around clear wide tape holding in the eight d batteries gay asians saying to each other why doesnt he turn that trash down
third black dude cant believe what he’s hearing and neither can i
neptunes baby he tells us
no radios no eating no drinking no smoking says the signs everywhere
eight ten pm
fuck those fucking signs wheres the train no train then fuck you let the music play
he doesnt tell you about his old best friend in high school whose dad was mafia and whose girlfriend was generally considered the town slut.
do you have any idea what sort of life he leads? dont ever feel sorry for him. ever. greatest friends alive. hottest babes. funnest jobs. even his bad days are day dreams.
he doesnt tell you about half of the web sites he goes to or about any of the tv he watches or who he really emails and chats with and whats going on with him
and he acts all suprised that places like the la times are conservative when hes about ten times as conservative
and he doesnt have shit to lose cuz they wouldnta hired him anyhow and he has nothing and therefore he has everything.
everything you can take with you when you sleep.
on the bus i was thinking about who i’d dedicate the book to.
my pal thor garcia dedicated his first collection of short stories to marc brown, because he was always there which is probably the finest dedication of all times.
and i was thinking about the old fashioned to my mother like jd did in catcher in the rye.
then i was thinking about dedicating it to alan greenspan because if he hadn’t stuck his little dick into the economy when it was booming i would be making probably $75k a year flying around the world making dreams come true instead of writing the busblog, so out of a sow’s rear ive spun some silk.
then i thought maybe the boss who fired me or the girl who said all the rotten things that led to me getting fired even though i hired them both and made their lives pretty easy. but if those two hadn’t done what they did i wouldn’t have been rehired four hours later a hero and a semi-martyr and i wouldn’t have been reassigned to fight crime with karisa.
then i was thinking about dedicating it to her, but then ashley would set fire to my beachhouse and i’d have to prosecute her to the fullest.
so the list grew: bud selig, master p, anna, mariah, elvis, angus young, hank williams, mozart, hef, kobe, phil jackson, michael jackson, my attorney.
then i thought of something that made me laugh so hard i nearly fell over
to my baby’s momma
but people might get the wrong idea, and the purpose of anything i type is to get laid or paid so ixnay on the baby jokes cuz until she takes a dna test that shit ain’t really all that funny.
except to me.
then i thought i should dedicate it to the Los Angeles Times who refuses not only to offer me my dream job, but didn’t even bother to write an LA Times Magazine feature on me and here i am only a few subway stops from their plush headquarters.
sigh.
im sure ashley would want me to dedicate it to her, but shes been a very bad girl and proved the other day that her love isn’t for me, but for another so let him learn to read and write and when he puts out a book then he can dedicate it to her.
i have a few titles that he can use if he gets stuck.
it is so hard for me not to write about that stuff but im doing my best not to. shes a sweet girl whose still in love with her first love. and you will always be in love with your first love. even if they’re less than perfect. even if guys like me do everything for you and fill your wallets with cash that you in turn spend on clothes and food and sin.
i don’t want to write about it because i want it to be over and done with. she asked if there was anything that she could do to make things better and there really isn’t. she has a new tattoo that she could put my name inside i kept thinking but then i thought that wouldn’t even do it.
theres nothing.
have you ever been so disgusted with something that nothing could make things better. not a zillion apologies. not ten zillion catholic girl skirts.
for a while there were really only two girls i liked and only one of them liked me back and now neither do, so i write to you.
and yesterday i asked my friend, so why then am i so happy.
and she said cuz you’re illegally insane.