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 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

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.

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

hi dennis rodman!

bro, how come you didnt come to my wedding yesterday?

shit, worm, i didnt know you were getting married yesterday.

hell, i barely knew.

did you wear white?

oh man, i wore a white dress, a nice white head thing, and a nice white garter. vera wang, baby.

pretty.

didnt you get the invitation?

no, dude, my email has been fubar for the last week and a half. terrible virus on my computer. dont you read the busblog anymore?

nah, brah, i had this wedding to plan, and my normal rodman lifestyle to maintain.

like what?

you know, drinking, gambling, chasing white women, acting a fool.

arent you ever afraid that racists might point their finger at you and your way of living and say, “see, Black man acting just like we said they all act”?

i do my best not to live my life so that racists would feel better about me.

good point.

i got your birthday gift though.

sweet. wait. your birthday was yesterday! you got married on your birthday?

yeah, my girl asked me what i wanted for my birthday and i got down on my knee and proposed right there.

see worm, i told you that youre all right. but wont this married life cramp your style?

hell no, she will have her house, i will have mine.

she’s not moving in?

nope, she already lives two houses down, why should she move in?

what about the kids?

they live with her. two doors down. my son is two, my daughter is one, they wont even notice.

you’re incredible.

Hef does the same thing. it’s brilliant.

the nba misses you, dennis.

shit, the lakers miss me, thats for sure. they could definately use a rebounder.

damn straight.

forward, never straight, my man.

so where are you going on your honeymoon?

this is my honeymoon, we’re here at the Hard Rock, im about to go down to the craps tables and shes going to be waiting for me when i come back with some money.

again, dennis, youre the man. we miss you. thanks for the invite. sorry my email ate it. i hope to see you soon.

you definately will. we’re going to have another wedding next month down in newport, make sure you come.

solid. can Tsar play?

for sure. lots of bands will play!

later, worm.

later, g

s. eliot + tif’s twat + ah, texas

speaking of which, if you plan on using the subway without paying i havent seen any cops checking tickets in months.

which might explain the increase of people taking their bikes onto the subway during rush hours which is strictly against the policies.

found out today that jules asner is leaving my favorite channel, e! – it made me sad. jules was my favorite e! personality next to howard stern.

she seemed smart. i liked that.

america, im bored. you dont want your helicopter pilots bored. not xbi ones. people start doing stupid things.

wanna hear a secret?

bet you do.

wanna hear my deepest darkest secrets?

doubt it.

ok heres a secret. yes i live in hollywood. yes i live in california. yes i live in america. these things dont always add up to sunny and beautiful and wonderful and magical.

many times they add up to the same old bullshit going on in your town.

ive traveled the world and many nights ive ended up at mcdonalds or kfc even though the lady next door might have been making chicken for 800 years, still i go to the colonel.

here in hollywood people still buy their cds from Borders, their clothes at Ross, and their shoes at Sears. we dont take advantage of Melrose Blvd. the way we should, we dont bang gongs the way we ought to, and worse of all we dont jump into the ocean – or even in some cases – look at the fucking sea the way we thought we would.

we just fly around and work and hustle and go home and light up and flip on the same crap that you do whether you are living in des moines or detroit or debuque. it’s disgusting. i dont want to be a pinhead no more.

i want to fully take advantage of this advantage that i have and i want to report to you what its all about.

some guy speculated in the office today that if horry’s shot had gone down that thered be a riot in the streets of la. the fellow was immediately dismissed cuz nobody riots in the streets of la unless some white cop is bashing the brains out of a brotha in an import.

only other time that people get up in arms is when it rains here. and they only get nutty in that case if they are a tv newsman at the top of the hour.

paul, im standing here at the corner of crenshaw and slauson and it’s raining. fred can you pan down a little. see im in an actual puddle.

last minute laker shots do not create much of anything other than a high five from a bored blogger to an nba cheerleader, but only because we like game sevens.

floor pie + the girl of my dreams + jeff coop + brett lamb

and gray here in LA and if i didnt know any better i would think that a tornado might blow through here and take away all the bad little witches and yapping dogs and plastic surgeons but all it is is the beginning of tourist season, and even clouds like to hit the beach.

another night without my computer so i watched the lakers when i got home while laying on the couch, a strange position for me. my mind was running. i was pacing. i didnt know what to do with all my extra energy.

for lunch yesterday a nice girl from around the way stopped by with free coupons for burritos at Chipotle at the beverly center, ozzy’s favorite burrito place. super great spicy burritos. i took a bunch of pictures of the beverly center and i want to do some good web stuff with them when i get my box back.

so the lakers. ive never seen a loss actually be a win before until last night. san antonio lost the playoffs last night. i dont care what the score was. first of all, you dont let someone, i dont care how many sparkly rings they have, come into your house after being down by 25 and comeback and be one centimeter away from winning a game.

that three pointer by robert horry went in. yeah it came back out again, but it went in. the lakers won that game. they are going to come back to staples, three metro stops away from the home of the busblog and destroy the spurs. i say by at least 20. theyre going to do it with sprained ankles on devon george, derek fisher and a fella named kobe. then theyre going to go back to the shadows of the alamo and theyre going to break the hearts of those deep in the heart of texas.

you heard it here first.

saturday night is going to be interesting because we were all going to see the matrix two, but now it looks like we’re going to have to watch game seven.

pretty girl wrote me last night to affirm that indeed she has a crush on me still. college girl. how come when i was in college no girls had crushes on me? i know why.

dear college girl, please direct your pretty eyes to some college boys. im so old you have no idea. maybe you do have an idea. guys my age only want one thing. and im too embarrassed even to say what that one thing is here.

fine. i’ll tell you. we want everything. we want love, we want lust, we want attention, we want to be left alone, we want someone to watch tv with, we want something to fall asleep with, and when we want it we want you to be wearing unbelieveable outfits and whisper the dirtiest things youve ever said without cracking up.

sweet college girls should stay sweet while their sweetness still comes easy.

not that i dont appreciate the college girls, but at my age i need some jaded porn stars to develop raging crushes on me.

ones who dont wince when given booze, but who slam down the shot glass and look me in the eye as if to say, whattup fuckr.

DeWey + heather + alecia

i know the little game youre playing. it’s cool. i know you said you were too shy to go to the tsar show the other night. but i saw you in the back.

rocking. drinking. stalking.

eating!

oh yes, that was you. hot chick with the chucks bobbing your head to “you and jim” headbanging at the bar to the new tunes.

i write you, you dont write me back, i talk about you, you dont talk about me back, i lurve you, you are repulsed by me, not the only thing that we have in common by the way.

i know you like the rock music, model girl. i know you would rather listen to something other than the pretty boy depeche and moz dones.

i know you want to have your mind blown by the dual guitar attack, the cowbell, and a long haired solomon on axe.

word on the street is this saturday, at spaceland, tsar, will play, pretty much just for you, cuz you were in the back. follow the light. follow the hype.

this is what the cool kids are going to do. everyones going to the archlight to see the matrix. then theyre going to go to my house for beer bongs.

then to spaceland to get their socks rocked.

then to your house in encino for the after party.

then we’ll wake and bake and gorge at ihop cuz i know its your favorite.

signed,

your number three fan

p.s. if you want to, you can email me at fragrant@tonypierce.com and tell me that you secretly lust me, that you’re just way too shy to say so.

thanks!

p.p.s. i like your new blog.

p.p.p.s. i want to travel with you one day

i have forwarded some of the mail that i normally get to her boyfriend keanu reeves.

so today we present to you Ask Keanu.

Dear Keanu,

Does size matter?

Ah, the eternal question. I have learned quite a few things with my dealings with the fairer sex. Women, that is, and from that experience I have good news and bad news in regards to this inquiry.

The good news is: women are crazy.

It’s good because if a woman likes you, she won’t care what your penis is shaped like, how big it is, or how little it is. I have some teeney-dicked friends, some of which you have seen on stage and screen. They have some incredible girlfriends and wives who make “little” jokes but have stood by their men loyally as if everything was fine. I also have some friends with very odd-shaped units and their girlfriends learned how to use them to their advantage.

Love overcomes all things is what I learned. And it helps that women are crazy.

Following this theme, the bad news is, sadly, that women are crazy.

Me, I have a marvelous body, I’m rich, I’m popular, I know how to do it well, I know how to show a woman a good time, I have no terrible deformities, I even play in a rock band. And still I get turned down for casual sex nearly every day. Suxor!

Dear Keanu,

I went out with a girl the other night and she had talked about how much she loves sex and how she thinks about it all the time and the whole date I was thinking, I’ve got it made. Then the girl wouldn’t even let me give her a good night kiss. What gives? What should I do? It went down a week ago and I can’t stop thinking about it.

You’re definately doing the right thing by obsessing over it. I suggest that you over-analyze everything that you did on that date, think mean things about the young lady, and stare at the mirror and pick at your zits.

You might also join a gym.

Dear Keanu,

Why does music suck so bad nowadays?

When I filmed “Little Buddah” I learned alot about the yin-yang of life. In music the yin yang revolves around the relationship of good Black music and good Rock music.

In the early 90s the hip hop scene was ripe and creative. You had the Beastie Boys, Cypress Hill and De La Soul. You also had Grunge. Even AC/DC and Metalica had huge, great records. The end result was an amalgom of great music for every genre.

Hip hop today is stagnant. Only Eminem is worth listening to and that record is 8 months old. 50 Cent? are you kidding me?

And rock is horrible, so the mixture therefore is even worse.

Look no further than AudioSlave which on paper is wonderful, but where it counts, on vinyl is watered down bullshit that only kids and soccer moms would enjoy.

My prediction is we will go through a few more years of horrible music to be followed by a wonderful resurgence in the Indie scene probably spearheaded by Tsar’s third cd which I predict will be a concept album based loosely on the Rush epic “The Trees”.

See you at the box office,

KR

krix + gweilo is (currently) sars-free + more

one of the interns is gearing up for the matrix screening tomorrow at midnight by playing the soundtack from the original. manson, then propellorheads. quite a way to greet the morining: with brass knuckles.

had a date last night.

hot chick, couldnta been more than 24-25. gorgeous eyes. color of suede on a rainstorm at midnight with a full moon in a black and white movie.

she was all over me. finally. god its been a long time. to feel the curve of the small of a woman’s back. to feel her hips pushing closer to mine. soft skin below the ear lobe. stinky breath of cloves. to reach underneath and nearly snap the thin g string.

tanned everything. bloodshot eyes from smoking and drinking on a monday night. i know im not worthy to receive anything, but only say the word and i will be– this girl likes to scratch. i totally forgot about that. and here i am a sensitive poet. she likes to bite too. she likes to slap. i look like i lost a street fight. i look like i got thrown in a sack with a thousand cats. i look like hell, but i guess thats nothing new.

all my move-making music is in winamp, but as you probably know all that is on a computer full of viruses, so we had to do things the old fashioned way, compact discs. that meant getting up and changing things every 45 minutes. you know youre doing ok if you make your way through four cds before throwing in the towel.

in the morning she was gone, but left behind a sweet note telling me that it was better than she remembered and any time i wanted to invite her over again she’d say yes.

some girls just know how to live.

fucking love that.

rolled into work nearly on time this morning and read the comments that you all left. god i love you all.

why are you so good to me?

normally i would have read them all minutes after you posted them because i am glued to my computer most nights, doing dumb things like sex chatting college girls in manitoba or making lopsided trades for fantasy baseball, or trying to write poems, or trying to arrange the thousands of photographs that ive taken in the last month, or trying to design a good web page, or trying to write something of interest, or trying or trying or trying, and yoda was right, trying takes up all your time, its the doing that we need to do more of.

to do, to be, to get done, to do, i do, i be, i am because i was done, so far from done, so far from it, so far so bad, so bad so good.

the approval that women can give is unbelievable. i wish you girls knew even what a smile could do. not to mention a whisper.

or a french kiss on an italian fender on a los feliz corner

in america.

sepi + uppity negro + all about george