the laker fans weren’t booing, they were sobbing.

hurts more to lose when youre supposed to win. especially at home.

especially with the greatest center, greatest coach, greatest kobe, greatest cheerleaders, greatest fan, greatest and classiest history.

fuck the celtics.

no, the fans werent booing, but that was derek fisher shedding a tear, and that was kobe (pictured) physically and emotionally beaten.

this was a grand team. champions. outcoached and outplayed.

the lakers are a team that showed on tuesday that they can perform miracles at any moment, just like theyve done since time began. back when los angeles was riddled with lakes.

theyre a team plauged by age and injury. even the coach ended up in the hospital.

and the pressure? this team was built by a gm whose sillouhette is the logo for the nba and even he couldnt stand the pressure of championship-or-consider-it-failure so he ran away the lowest pressure gig he could find: gm of the memphis grizzlies.

i dont know how the laker girls do it.

the fans werent booing, they were bawling.

these fans have seen this team come back year after year. and theyve seen their stars hurt before.

kareem got hurt in the finals during magic’s rookie season, and not even that stopped them from winning it all that year.

and speaking of magic, these fans have watched ervin beat hiv, so who cares if they dont have rick fox or a power forward.

and have three twisted ankles and no chickie baby.

the fans were booing because the eggs are cold, the butters getting hard, and the jellos jiggling, except this time, for the first time in a generation, the jello was jiggling for thee.

skywriting + coyote + chicha + katie, playmates

im grateful that i dont belong to a religion where old men kiss me.

im grateful that i dont belong to a cuntry where they make the kids hold up pictures of religiouslypolitical tyrants i mean leaders.

im grateful that i dont belong to a country where you’d get strung up for saying fuck the president fuck the president fuck the commander in theif fuck him fuck his pappy fuck his pappys pappy.

im grateful that i live in a country where i can get two Beck tickets on the front grass sextion of the Santa Barbara County Bowl with the stars above me and the warm air cruising off the mountains and it all cost just under a hundred bucks.

im grateful that i live in a country where i can go to the newsstand and see pictures of naked people, i can go to the video store and rent tapes of naked people, and make a phone call and invite a bunch of naked people over to my house, but i cannot see naked people on my television without paying an extra $15 a month.

im grateful that i live, wait, im not entirely grateful for that last statement.

im grateful that i live in a country where i can lose $8 Trillion dollars, no shit, $8 Trillion dollars, and have the president appoint me to do my job for two more years.

fuck the president fuck the president, fuck his drunken daughters.

i’m grateful that i live in a country where blowjobs from cheerleaders arent illegal – anymore.

i’m grateful that i live in a country where Black men can walk down the streets with white women and not get hung – anymore.

i’m grateful that i live in a country where morons still have a chance to flourish financially, politically, musically, theatrically, and literally — but especially religiously.

i’m grateful that i live in a country where i dont have to even worry about buying a car radio because every rock station completely sucks ass.

i’m grateful that i live in a country where christina aguelera calls home because i lust her. god do i lust that dirty girl.

i’m grateful that i live in a country where we are so prosperous that not only is everyone overweight, but we have such issues about our bodies that many people have eating disorders where they are convinced that they’re overweight even though theyre perfectly healthy.

i’m grateful that i live in a country where nobody has any self esteem so they either turn terribly meek or irritatingly aggressive.

i’m grateful that i live in a country that has nothing better to do than to worry about Tommy Chong’s bong business, and confederate flags, and tied up all star games – and ignores things like poverty, poor education, and the designated hitter rule.

i’m grateful that i live in a country where a guy like pete rose can get more hits than anyone in the history of baseball and not get in the hall of fame – for any reason.

i’m grateful that i live in a country that’s helping the buttcrack become the new cleavage.

i’m grateful that i live in a country where shunned fbi agents have a place to go to fight crime once theyre kicked out of the agency.

singe out west + la blogs + the french amour me + kitty stokes the foot fetishers

sometimes my astrology confuses me

from Rob Brezsny’s Real Astrology – which i adore

Libra for the week of May 15

“Dear Dr. Brezsny: Does astrology work differently in Texas? I’ve lived all over the world, and I’ve found Libras who live in Texas to be unlike Libras everywhere else. Normal Libras love beautiful things, seek harmony, and see opposing points of view as well as their own. But every Texan Libra I’ve ever met loves beautiful things only if they’re big and loud, seeks harmony only if there’s something in it for him, and acknowledges opposing viewpoints only if it helps him win the arguments he loves to start. Your opinion? -Natural-Born Texan.”

Dear Natural-Born: I was born in Texas and have three planets in Libra, so I’m not objective enough to comment. I do know this, though: Many non-Texan Librans will soon exhibit the behavior you described as typical of Lone Star Librans. But I think that’s a good thing: an antidote for Libras’ sometimes-excessive politeness.

im learning that im nothing without my computer

got home, warmed up some weekend pizza, drank some diet pepsi, turned on the 76er game and laid on my couch.

knock on the door. one of the academy girls came by with some porn and some penne pasta. she asked if she could sit and talk with me. i said no, maybe next time. all she ever wants to do is ask why i dont want her as my girlfriend. she looks a lot like monica belluci (pictured) except with blonde hair. im tempted one of these days to ask her to dye it black (or quit dying hers blonde) but im too shy. deep down im very shy.

she asked if she could kiss me and i said on the cheek. she said, only on the cheek? and i said fine, what the hell, and she gave me a good freedom kiss and i noticed something different. my girl had gotten a tongue pierce! wow! still that didnt hold my attention long enough and all i wanted to do was play around on my computer, so i showed her to the door and worked on that tongue pierce one last time, and watched her stroll down my little rock path through the security gates and into visitor parking.

popped open the porn, put it in, and toaster ovened some more za.

it was an amateur film. amateur meaning that there wasnt a set, no story, no plot. just a hand held camera. the first girl was a pretty girl. skinny. long brown hair. french.

the guy she was going to do is a famous porn star. he spoke into the camera and explained that the girl didnt know much english and she giggled and he made up a dumb joke about the language of love.

she got up off the bed, and did a little strip tease to a really bad blues song that played off a boom box. really bad tune. like it was her brother’s band.

apparently this was all being shot in the guest room of the famous porn star’s home. i get weird thoughts when i watch porn. last night i thought, “can he write off part of his house because he films in there? can he write off the bed? can he write off his porn star clothes?”

soon she was nude and on top of the dude. he had gray hair. i wondered if the girl was creeped out even in the slightest that he could be old enough to be her dad. after a few minutes it became obvious that she wasnt at all freaked out.

he was doing stuff to her and she moaned, oui. oh, oui.

the blues music stopped and all you could hear was him saying dirty things to her and her saying oui. i thought that i would like to see the transcript.

i noticed that he had a notch in his sack. obviously he had gotten a vasectomy. i thought that there would be no way that i would ever get one of those. ever. what happens if aliens fly down to earth and need to round up a few good men to help populate a planet of amazonian women from another world who desperately need jizm. the boy scouts taught us to be prepared. it’s one lesson i have never forgotten.

be prepared.

other day this beautiful girl wanted to make sweet love to me and because i was prepared and had a condom in my wallet, i was able to fulfill her request. thank you, boy scouts.

fell asleep to the porn before the two actually finished. work has been hard on me. life has been hard on me. typically when i get home i can fire up the computer and read the emails, chat with the good people and create fun stuff and become refreshed from that good energy.

without my lovely entree to all things good, i am a couch potato. im an olde man. despite my rage, im still just a– woke up to american idol. three kids were on the screen.

fell back asleep.

dirty fez + jaded girl + random fixation