would i like to date chloe sevigny?

yes. would i like courtside knicks seats? yes.

would i like for her to wear knee highs on our date courtside at madison square garden?

yes, please.

be careful what you dream for, dreamers.

got home late tonight after an afternoon of eating king cake cuz it was mardi gras to five messages on my machine.

called back my buddy ray who told me about this chick he met at deep.

deep is the trendy club on the corner of hollywood and vine.

first i said, what the hell were you doing at deep?

he said, never mind, i met this chick who was super hot.

i asked him if she was asian. ray loves asian girls.

he said yes. then he asked me to stop interrupting him.

then he told me that he talked to her for a while at the club, got her number and then started calling her, and they talked every day for a week, but hadnt yet gotten a date together because she lives in san diego.

so tony, she says to me, i wanna do x with you on our first date. it would break the ice.

i said, yeah, i bet x would break the ice.

he said, but i dont want to do x with her on the first date, i just want to hang out with her and maybe make out a little and thats it.

i said, then do that.

he said, but how great would doing x on a first date would be with a girl like her!

ray’s as old as i am. old. so i said, dude, you dont need any x to have a great time with that girl. just being on a date with a new person should be fun.

he said, yeah, it will be fun, whenever it happens. but still, how much more fun would it be like how she proposed.

then i talked to another friend who called me to ask me if his landlord could ask him to remove his satellite dish from his front porch, even though its been there for years.

i told him that i wasnt any damn lawyer.

then i saw latoya jackson on larry king.

then i wrote this to procrastinate.

then i saw fred durst on howard stern talking about how he really did have sex with brittany spears.

then i called ray back and i said we should only be dating girls that make us feel as crazy inside as britney made fred feel.

he asked, how crazy did britney make fred feel?

i said, crazy enough to get on tv and say, i swear to you all i did her, and i totally miss her.

last day of my life

i get a ridiculous amount of fan mail

which is great because i know i dont deserve it, but i need it to keep this thing going.

positive reinforcement doesn’t work for everyone, but it’s my fuel, which is just another reason that this blog fits me so perfectly, and why even your visits to this site lift my spirits, even if im already in a good mood.

the other night i was at a beautiful young lady’s house. a woman who i admired from afar for quite some time. and sometimes we would exchange messages via carrier pigeon and i just thought they were flights of fancy. nothing serious. so i was over at her house last week, one of those big places in the middle of town over by moxie’s house.

a whole neighborhood of american homes with big oaks in the front lawn, brick garages, mexican maids with overcoats and sneakers who’d walk to the busstop in clumps.

and this nice woman, who is a very private person in many ways because of her fame and fortune, opened up a book that she has diligently kept over the last three years, and she, for no reason at all, we weren’t drunk, or anything, just watching tv, she opened up this book and there was a line at the bottom of each page that said, “person who made your day:” and several times over the years she had put in my name or wrote that this very blog made her smile.

you have no idea how much that meant to me. we walk around and think that what we do or who we are doesn’t have a rippling effect on others even though we know how much others make an effect on us.

for some reason i just consider myself a ghost that can float in and out of neighborhoods and through cyberspace and what i do and say doesn’t influence shit, even though i know it does, if ever so subtlety. of course it does. even the smallest fly can completely distract a theatre of movie goers if he lands on the wrong spot on the screen.

anyhow, she affected me when she shared her private little book, and for that i am forever thankful.

just like i am to all the people who write me, and for all the girls who want to go on dates with me, and for all the big time publications who want to hire me.

God bless you all, each and every one of you.

once i saw Morrissey get hugged by his number one fan who had sat in line for days to be the first in line for a book signing or some nonsense. and this guy was like 500 pounds, and might have been a woman, but no, it was a man. and i thought to myself that you really shouldn’t do what you do so that people will fall in love with you because it will always end up being the wrong people who will obsess over you.

if you want raymi to lust you, you’ll just get the ward boys to write about you every day.

if you want the mad pony girls to pay attention to you, they might, but they’ll murder you in cold blood when you’re not looking.

when you try to get hired by the LA Times, all you’ll get is a write up in their special thursday issue.

better off just writing and living for yourselves, ive learned.

and if you’re not going to do that, live for a very rich exswimsuit model who has a huge indoor pool and makes the best dip.

the ward

this guy is a mastermind?

i keep telling all you kids you can be anything you want.

where does he even get his shirts?

guy at work cut out this picture and wrote next to it

cheezburga

cheezburga

cheezburga.

people laughed and pointed.

mastermind.

went down to the first floor today to say hello to the fellas.

shook everyones hands, sat down on a chair, shot the shit.

after about fifteen minutes, some curly haired kid shows up and asks, wheres the chair that needs to be fixed?

guy named tom says, the one tony’s sitting on, the one with the sign that says broken, do not sit.

everyone got a pretty good laugh off that one.

i find myself procrastinating the silliest things.

different eighteen year old girl, jealous of the first one wrote me a very interesting email asking what she has to do to be my favorite.

i said, convince me that going out with you will be better for you and i than if, say, i just stayed at home and watched regis on tivo.

she wrote one simple sentence that convinced me.

one word, actually.

this is while im bald, people of the world.

not even bald, sickly looking.

my hair is growing in monkish. horseshoe first, then the top.

i look nearly as old as i am.

but the girls dont care. hardly any of them do. not everybody has to like you. a dozen’ll do.

jeanine picked me up after work and we sped down wilshire on our way to midnight tacos with the top down. she ordered in spanish, i had to give up after pollo burrito.

we watched that dumbass married by america and both ate every bit of our gigantic three dollar burritos, and i sat back in the couch and she stepped outside for a smoke.

and when she came back she walked over to my computer and on the instant messenger screen it simply said

satiable

austin city sk + reno ken + nyc amy