i knew i wasnt gonna get any writing done today.

phone kept ringing. too many loose ends left loosed. sunday should really be a day to just rest but i have a big photo essay dealie to give the world even though very few people told me they liked the last one.

got linked a bunch last week though. and several people told me i was their hero.

your hero hasnt gotten any in way too long.

and im not talking ten bucks of flowage either.

even though i probably should.

rickey hit another homer today. i sat around and watched two episodes of the sopranos. and got caught up on the real world, and project greenlight.

i want to watch strangers on a train but im telling you i have this great photo thingie to bust and theres a great story there which i need to unfurl cuz someone will give away the great surprise.

my true love came over yesterday and there are very few people who get my heart beating any time they are around and i couldnt even look at her when she asked me if i liked her new haircut and dye.

its supposed to make my eyes look bluer.

and i knocked her over onto the couch and hugged her and we held each other and she smelled of parliments which is on the hipster bingo as were my old school pumas which were


on the floor next to my digital camera for my blogging which is o-4 i think

and here i felt so old but now i see im secretly hip.

then why doesnt splink ever write me?

and why isnt the associated press and the santa monica police reading the busblog?

in todays article, they are saying that they are investigating whether or not the old man hit a mercedes on his way to the farmers market.

i told you the day after it happened my homeboy os saw the old coot smash the mercedes.

investigation over.

lock his ass up.

i told you that os thought he was watching a hit and run until the first guy was sent flying into the sky.

meanwhile all the pundits are writing about whether olde people should have licenses or not. how about whether the cops should still have guns and badges after letting a hit and run artist run out of their prison cell because he was old.

every damn day i write this blog to serve mankind.

and there i was serving santa monica, my first california home, and santa monica has turned its back on me.

im going to lie down.

and watch hitchcock.

on the day of rest.

riley dog + wired anjel + tina

my kids will probably get drafted straight outta high school.

but they aint going.

nike will want them to be human billboards, but they wont be shilling for any damn nike.

there will probably be a time when they will want to vote republican before they turn 35, or try heroin, or drink and drive, but im not gonna let em.

and if i find out that they did, i’ll burn down their house. maybe steal their car. maybe erase them outta the will. or talk shit about them on the busblog.

im sure i’ll have handsome boys and once they turn pro they’ll jet off to colorado for some secret arthiscopic surgery and they’ll meet a pretty young girl who’ll want to ease their minds right before going under the knife, and my boys might even want to induldge.

but they wont go through with it.

and if they do they will first have the young woman sign a release.

and after they have signed the release they will call my childrens’ lawyer who will put the young lady on the phone and she will tell the lawyer that she wants to get with my offspring.

and the lawyer will record all of this

and ask the woman if she wants to do this act, that act, that act, that act, and that act.

and then the woman will either accept or decline

and then the lawyer will have the woman provide a drivers license number and social security number and the laywer will do a quick background check and then call back my progeny and either give the green light or the red light.

none of this will be made aware to me because i believe unlike those who wrote and passed the patriot act, i believe in the right of privacy and at the chocolate center of that right is the attorney-client privelge, which i whole heartedly respect.

none of my children will be allowed to marry before they turn 26.

you barely know shit at thirty.

who you kidding.

since my kids will be brilliant they’ll say

then how could hemingway bust with the sun also rises at 21, how could pete townshend drop tommy at 21, and if magic hadnt come out early he wouldnta won his first ring playing every position at 21.

and id say if you roll with a tommy, a sun also fuckin rises, and play center your rookie year in the finals and win it for the lakers, then yes you can get married when you want.

but realize kids, hem ended up a drunk his whole life which ended with a bullet in the head, pete townshend ended up getting caught looking at kiddie porn, and magic fucked around and got more than a triple double.

so fuck you, stay in school, wake up your lawyer when youre about to get some strange, and dont even get me started about the nike sweatshop and how they want to brand you like cattle so they can sell the most expensive sneakers that were made from the lowest paying sweatshops.

dresarii + rob wanska + leah + popie