dear undercover xbi agents who edit this page,

let me begin by telling you thank you so very much for all that you do. without you im nothing.

im nothing with you either, but without you not only am i nothing but this blog would be a gigantico mess.

you dont even want to know where i am blogging from tonight or how.

quite frankly im ashamed.

what im doing tonight in coachella california to spread good news to all of you is immoral, illegal, inappropriate and somewhat disgusting. in fact what i will have to do later to a gaggle of barely legal dairy queen employees is just plain wrong.

what im blogging on cant even allow me to right-click, so therefore i cant even add a picture to this post, so please, sweet editors, add a nice picture up in this piece. make it a picture of karisa if you can find one because lots of the boys have been asking for that and i aims to please.

my shoulders are hurting writing the way i have to write right now so sorry if this comes across not as long as i would like it to be.

anyways, hi people of the world. i miss you.

ive been driving across this desert all night looking for a different kinkos than the one that robbed me last night but i had no luck. palm springs is beautiful and their trees are well lit and every fancy community has gates and a security kiosk but no one has 24 hour internet and fortunately i had a nice driving companion who kept her hand in my lap the whole way so even though i was frustrated i wasnt totally pissed.

i dont get totally pissed all that often, but the last few weeks ive been testy to say the least.

i think i just need a change.

a big change.

even a little change would be nice and i thought this vacation would be it but its not.

palm springs isnt far enough from LA to ease ones mind and ive got a lot to ease.

plus, and she’ll hate me for saying this, but i could use a steady gurl. clippergirls cousin is sweet but shes not it. ive been around the block enough to know and i know and shes not it.

tonight we ate at pf changs and it was deeeee-lish.

the restaurants out here have misters to add a little refreshment to the atmosphere and its welcomed.

pf was packed tonight and the food was great and the waitress was awesome and everyone had a great time especially me because i always end up there with the best people and that makes me feel so lucky.

note to self: youre the luckest man alive. enjoy it.

tomorrow i will golf and shop and ride around with the top down and i might even head back to hollywood

and i might not.

so anyway, xbi agents, if you would, could you please post three classic busblog posts tomorrow and then a caption this please for the kids before 1pm pst.

if you cant i totally understand but i dont have a computer and i dont have innnernet access and i have a feeling i wont even wake up tomorrow until 2pm so please help the busblog since i cant.

my love to all of you.

your pal,


hi america, im in palm springs still, where it’s hot.

im typing you from the conceirge desk at the fabulous hotel. id tell you which one but its top secret. they dont have a computer room or an “office center” or a “business center” or anything along those lines but they do have a cool computer with a flat screen next to the conceirge for checking ones email, etc.

last night i got jacked at the kinkos. i thought i was paying $12/hr for internet access but when i was done they charged me $24/hr because i was sitting at “the design station”, whatever the hell that means.

funny thing about me is that i wont really argue about being overcharged if Black people are involved. especially in the big money world of Palm Springs.

i had so many things i could have told them like “well you told me to sit over there” and “this is why you will be working at Kinkos at midnight the rest of your life”. but i take it easy on my people.

someone has to.

plus im living a dream life.

if i were to travel the country and write about it, i would want to hook up some sort of arrangement with Kinkos i think because it is great to have something around 24/7 where i could get on the web whenever i wanted. for example what if my laptop broke or got stolen.

this hotel is great and when i get back i will upload pictures and tell you all about it.

in the meantime i hope my internet heroes will post a few more classic posts from the busblog’s near two-year run.

i would hate to have you bored wherever you are because i am taking a few days off here in the 100 degree dry heat.

its really spectacular here.

i dont know why i dont come out here more often, it really is a “short two-hour drive.”


Friday, March 15, 2002


i was trying to prove God to this buddist at the baja fresh and i saw my old boss signalling me from the salsa station.

my old fbi boss.

i excused myself and met him in the men’s room.

“long time, agent.”

“not that long, really, seems like yesterday.” i said.

“hows the xbi treating you?”

“the what?”

“ok, well, whatever. tony we want you back.”

“im touched.”

“we miss you and we need you.”

“you cant afford me.”

“what, are you suddenly materialist? has the xbi spoiled you?”

“it’s not money that i want.”

“figured as much, what do you want then?”

my old boss wasnt much of a negotiator, especially with me. all he would ever say is “no.”

“i want my old flying car back and i want to be a superagent, and i want my old territory back.”

“sorry kid, no can do. santa monica is taken.”

“yeah, i know, by your son-in-law. is he still in the hospital?”

“hal is back, he’s fine, thank you.”

“well, those are my terms, my fish tacos are getting cold.”

someone knocked on the door, my boss yelled, “one sec, buddy.” then he said, “we could get you your car.”

“and i want to pick my partner,” i added.

“next you’ll be telling me that you want to pick your boss.”

“get me santa monica back, and let me pick my partner and i’ll be happy with you as my boss.”

“boy, that’s a change.”

my boss always liked to get close to me and whisper in my ear. that never sat well with me, but i understood his motives.

he said, “i’ll see what i can do, agent. but your partner has to be someone from the bureau. none of those xbi hoodlums.”

i washed my hands with hot water and soap. my boss looked at his male pattern baldness and primped. i dried off with the papertowels and threw all but one in the trash and used the remaining towel to protect my soon-to-be fishy fingers and opened the door.

like a gentleman i allowed my boss to exit first.

he said thank you and as he passed, i attached a bug to the collar of his suit coat.