and i didnt take it with me to chicago cuz i wasnt seeing any results and then i got back home and wham.

im not a vain man, obviously. for if i was i would care about the grammar and spelling of this deal. but i have grown comfortable with my fro. and the ladies seem to like it, but this (pictured) is ridiculous.

cheerleaders showed up last night. ready to rock.

i got the boombox out of the bathroom and brought it into the guest bedroom cuz the girls like to make a mess wherever we happen to be.

i lit candles and closed the windows as the ladies climbed into their outfits.

the party started. i chose the jesus and mary chain-esque Ravonettes as the music for the evening. rocking, but mellow, romantic yet with an edge. copycat, but a fair copy. im open minded. i forgive.

sometimes.

soon we were all twisted and upsidedown and backwards and heavy into it. quickly i was happy that i had locked the windows because it became loud and i get nervous about my neighbors thinking that either someone is being killed or that im watching an adult film at a high volume. for some reason i do care what they think. yes, im nuts.

sheets were ripped off the corners of the mattress, pillows hurled, clothes damaged, scratch marks created, posters injured, rhythms established.

after awhile i was working on just one of the ladies, concentrating, creating, being one with the energy, breathing, etc. while the other ran out for some whipped cream and restraints.

we had a little thing happening. a good thing. i would be more descriptive but confidences would be abused. lets just say that everything was going wonderfully.

and then the cd skipped

and then it skipped again.

then it gave that modern dududududududududu sound.

it threw me.

she whispered how good it felt.

chicks never pay attention to the rock.

i tried to refocus on her which i did for a sec but i couldnt

babababababababa

damn cd. it would get hung up for a sec and then pause, make it to the next measure and get stuck again. the most hideous sounds.

my girl didnt care. she was seeing stars. she was hooked on a feeling. she was barely legal and nearly there.

thanks to the absinthe i wasnt anywhere near there so when it became obvious that the cd needed to go to the next track i climbed off and hit the forward button and returned to the scene of the slime.

my cheerleader wasnt at all pleased as she caught her breath.

sorry baby, that was killing me, i told her.

i hate you she said and dug her pearly whites into my neck and we went back at it.

her cousin soon returned and everything went very nicely until the post game interviews when she told the press that she hated the fact that i paused and left her stranded right on the peak of mt. olympus to mess with the stupid cd. i explained that i thought she was being as distracted as i was.

she said, fuckhead, did i seem distracted? color still on her flushed cheeks.

and if i dont wire my guest room to accept the mp3 feed from my 400mhz computer im a dumbass.

even though im one anyway. but at least my fro is back.

tres biatches + jarret house + sahalie

the terrorists won.

if there are any terrorists alive, theyre laughing at us.

and they should. this debate convinced me that i need to vote, and i need to vote for arnold.

why? because the ship is going down. because the right is dragging us down with them. because reagan bush taught us that you dont have to be qualified to run and win and do terribly and nobody will care. and because clinton gore taught us that you dont have to be qualified to run and win and do wonderfully and nobody will care or defend you. so if i have to have a clown lie to me and fuck up, may as well be one who smoked weed before jumping into an orgy.

not that television isnt more entertaining than ever.

do you know the cubs are in first place, and they were yesterday too?

my true love called me today and i told her some nasty things that i wanted to do to her and she ignored me which i love. then she asked me about the white stripes concert and i told her that i saw her old boss in the front row and she said yeah and then i told her that the cubs won today 8-0 to stay in first place.

and she said, wait, your cubs?

and i said yeah.

and she said theyre seriously in first place?

and i said, yeah, i know, weird huh?

and it is dreamlike and dreamy and unreal and unbelieveable. its a dream come true. more than i expected. the happiest accident and the answer to our prayers.

three dynamite pitchers and two monster powerhitters.

prior wood zambrano.

and then shawn estes today shut out the reds.

like in dating, pitching is 90 percent of the game. that means the cubs have the edge in pretty much any matchup from houston to boston.

this very well might be the year

and if they do it, terrorism will be forgotten. we will be able to go back to how we once lived: carefree and trusting.

sepi’s birthday gift arrived today and for that i thank her, but if only i could ask for a cubs world series ring off my amazon wishlist.

meanwhile i will vote for the terminator and enjoy the show.

trueboy + linda + ken layne at his best

so we’ll just have to go olde school and do this shit without the sweet words from you to me.

hi.

my girl kristin took a hit from some canadian nerds who think that shes changed and no longer writes well and she thinks that shes all that, which she is, but they dont like it cuz shes not theirs all theirs.

and they of course tried to bash her for being in a sorority and liking to shop and being nice enough to take pictures of herself, which are easy criticisms delivered by pimply faced boys who dont know how to talk about how they really feel.

blogging can be tough once you start getting more than 5 hits a day from your mom.

once you hit a certain level everyone becomes a critic, and when you put yourself out there for who you are, people can start to attack you over the dumbest things, and you know what, if i was a hot chick and if people wanted to see pictures of me, i would show you pictures every damn day of me. shit, im not even a hot chick and just to show my solidarity to kristin im going to post of picture of my swill mug in my very next post and you know what, people will bitch about that saying, wheres the models.

you cant win when you blog. strike that, yes you can.

heres how to win when you blog:

blog.

write all the time. i say write every day. i actually say write many times a day, but write. write when youre bored, write when youre inspired, write when youre tired, write after you 69ed a girl for a half hour and then flipped over and banged for a half hour more. write about not getting any, write about getting more that you deserve, write about sports, write about politics, write about your car, your cat, your dog, the shit between your toes, write about the shit between your toes that smells like your dog.

snipers will take their dumb little shots, but thats when you know youve made it.

another way to know is if you see your name on blogger.com as a blog of note, but beware because that will just ring the comeandgetit bell for all the losers to come and get jealous. which can become tiresome.

sad thing is that the madponies link these fools and then have to put up with them talking trash. thats not cool. none of its cool, but kristin and lauren have hopefully learned a valueable lesson: only the busblog will love them until infinity unconditionally.

only the busblog remembers that when we first met kristin and lauren one was a sorority girl and the other was a jailbait hottie, and since nothing has changed, theres not a problem. busblog isnt afraid to say that someone underage is cute. and many other blogs dont seem to have a problem with that either.

but this blog has always been slightly more attracted to the darker haired girls, especially those with southern accents, and old fashioned charm. and the only change that ive seen in madpony.com is that theyve become increasingly more popular and has handled that popularity with grace and an identifiably lack of ego.

lesson to the canucks: sorority girls take a ton of pictures. get used to it. and good looking sorority girls like kristin and her sisters do the world a great service by showing us their sparkely smiles. dont you see?

well, maybe not, but its nice to look at when youre done saving the world.

anyway, kristin and lauren, i like your old stuff, i like your new stuff, im cool with you changing, as you’re likely to do since youre totally young girls, and i look forward to seeing how you continue to grow.

and after that last line, im very happy that there are no comments on this post.

madpony + goobita + ginger + dead bus dot org

with some snotty little loud friends the yeah yeah yeahs and hot hot heat and summoned the ghosts of robert johnson and jimmy page and danced with the devil ‘neath the pale moon light, and people if this is the future of rock n roll sign my jaded ass up.

the yeah yeah yeahs made me want to get out of the pinks hotdog line and shreik right along with holly gorockly, i have no idea what that crazy chick is all worked up about but maybe it had something to do with rock being dead and it needing 1000 ccs of post postpunk to snap it out of its john mayer coma.

she pouted and pranced and yelled and culled up the bile from on top of the hollywood hillside and turned that shit into shinola and paved the way for the jack n meg one two punch and by punch i mean upside yr head.

supporting the best record to come out this year, elephant, the stripes are back on the road after jack injured his hand after holding it too tightly with renee zellweger. pretty much the only respectable alt rock on the billboard top forty (currently hovering at #38), the brother sister ex wife ex husband power couple of the year took the stage and laid down the blues with the unrelentless vengeance upon the record industry, most of whom were in attendance to witness what could only be considered soul music.

as in music of the soul as in music that gets into every crevice of your soul as in music that makes the guitarist take the strap off and show the crowd the chord and then the drummer and then the amp.

soul music unlike anything since stevie ray vaughn and hendrix and early clapton. super early clapton when he didnt give a fuck. jack white fell to his knees and it wasnt bullshit, it was the spirit of rock who brought him to his knees and pushed his nose into the twangy roots of bb and muddy and reinvent themselves through the swirly peppermint facade of the two whitest blues stars in america.

ninety one percent blues and nine percent satan was the formula and even the keyboards couldnt stand up straight, they fell over, were retrieved and sounded better for the fall, all old skool and damp and moody and ideal.

i can usually keep my cool at a concert. i can usually tap my feet to the slowjam beat like the one delivered perfectly by the super femme meg and her lil pigtails, but jack white had me gyrating around like a spastic born-again during the frenzied peak of a tent revival.

more than once i cried out hallelujah to the highest and i wasnt the only one. the hipster girls in their red dresses twirled and did the bump and the baldie boys bobbed their domes.

suprisingly older crowd at the classic griffith park amphitheatre which is too bad because most of us have seen it all, its the kids with the linkin park patches on their backbacks who could have used the force of the seven nation army realized in just two kids from motown to let them know what rock tastes like. and its nothing like the candy theyve been spoonfed all their soft lives. the stripes showed last night that its murky and metallic and mysterious and moody, and best served hot on a cool september eve.

cubs won. theyre alone at the top.

blackmask + dirty fez + i heart kate sullivan

why dont you say a few nice things about the boss

where i belong.

so since i wont be able to write anything else today, this might be the perfect day for you to write to me.

once a year i ask you, the readers, if there is anything that you would like to see more of or less of.

usually people just say, keep on doing what youre doing, and i guess thats feedback, but i hope theyre not saying that just cuz theyre afraid to say what they really feel.

so would you like more stories about the hot babes that knock on my door, more about hollywood, more about the xbi, more politics, more sports, more current events, less photo essays, less grammar mistakes, less sad things, more happy things, whatever.

here is the time to speak or forever hold your peace.

until i ask again.

is there anything you’d like to see on this blog that you have seen on other blogs?

what about design. how would you redesign this thing if you could? should i get some hotshot to redesign it more functionally, or is it better that everything on here i do myself?

should i write more longer pieces? do i put too many pictures on here? is it too slow to load?

do i ever make this too unsafe for work? should i tune it down? or would you like it spicier?

last year people asked for less song lyrics, so i obliged.

is that still the case, would you still like less song lyrics?

whatever. maybe theres something that youve always wanted to see here, or you wince whenever you see it here, and this is your chance to say something. if you feel weird about putting it in the comments, feel free to email me at ideas2003@tonypierce.com and it will be taken into consideration.

anyway, if you see a united airlines plane flying over your town between now and when i land, wave to the sky and i will blow you a kiss from my leather seat in first class with a stewardess on my lap.

caio!

splink cracks me up + amy is my hero + ken layne‘s gonna give it to you

and all of the credit has to go to my sister who made it all happen and for that i must thank her repeatedly.

i dont think you people understand what a terrible brother i was, and am. and im not even really that great of a son.

tonight my mom and i were driving back from downtown chicago and even though she is only 27, she sometimes acts like an old woman. for example when i drive her places she puts her head down and looks at her cell phone. she cant stand not being in control in the passengers seat and she doesnt like it when people drive too close to each other.

dont you believe in the lord anymore, ma, i ask her.

of course i do, i just dont believe that person OH SHOOT! and she’ll stomp her foot down on the invisible brake, i dont believe that person sees you over here, she’ll finish.

so were about to take a long swinging curve over a freeway. one of those overpass dealies thats like a quarter mile high and a half mile long. and she said, i really hate this curve, and i said, why, and she said i just really hate it and before she could get the words out i punch the gas and she screamed. but i really only made it sound bad, the car didnt really accellerate and she said if you want to make me cry do that again, but please dont do that again.

and i laughed cuz i am the original bart simpson, especially around my family.

so we picked up some chinese and got home and walked across the street to my sisters house and after dinner we heard the little baby on the baby monitor start to cry, so my mom went upstairs and got her out of the crib, walked downstairs and gave her to my sister.

the little angel was tired, probably had a bad dream, but looked adorable, as always. she sucked her thumb and cuddled with her mommy. after awile my mom held her, then i held her but she started to cry for her mom. so we gave her back. then i got my camera and i asked my sister, hey can i take a picture of her crying? and my mom said, shes not crying, and i said, not yet.

so my sister laughed and said, please dont tell anyone that i am letting you do this.

and my mom said, tony dont do anything to that child.

and i took the baby from her mother and stood her up on the coffee table and i put the camera on movie mode and sure enough within seconds she slowly erupted in little tears and cries and i laughed and everyone laughed cuz the damn kid was so cute, and i got my thirty seconds of baby crying and i kissed her cheek and delivered her back to her mom and my mom said, you havent changed a bit.

which is true.

i still suck.

we figured out that it has been 5 years since ive last been home. and it was 5 years since i was back before that. thats sorta outrageous. but coming back here is terribly emotional for me. i had such an out of the ordinarily great childhood that it is really too super freaky to come back here and see it all changed and lots of things, like my kindergarten, razed, and replaced with nothing.

the farm where we never got our eggs, gone.

the old amusement park, adventurland, leveled to put in an Allstate office.

the field that i used to golf in with range balls stolen from the nearby golf range, converted into a newer improved golf range.

both of my highschools are now being torn apart and renovated.

the swingset that i kissed my first girlfriend on, gone.

and the christmas tree forest where i used to bury all of my old sneakers, so gone that i couldnt even find one remaining evergreen.

thats all too much for this sensitive poet. especially when you mix it with lots of things that are identical. like the sad little dunkin donuts, or the roller rink i used to practically live in, or the garbage dump that has grown so big that they want to turn it into a ski resort.

change is a bitch, as is time, as are old memories that dont mesh with the present.

all in all i think illinois is better off for the changes that they have made, and the kids who are growing up here have a far more diverse group of kids to play with, and bigger and better neighborhoods with more and more things to do. so i suppose that the progress that has happened here is for the best.

still, i hope that in heaven the good Lord will take requests during orientation week, and if he does i will ask him if i can step into the time machine for just a few hours so i can be a teenager again, with my first girlfriend, and take her back, one more time to the swingset thats there no more.

cubs won today.

amourous times + the newest blog of note! ultrablognetic + sahalie

im in chicago!

i know, what am i doing here. exactly. im getting home cookin thats what im doing. my sister totally busted with the steaks last night and my mom whipped up the eggs, bacons, grits, toasts, oj, everything.

i went to bed early and i woke up late. i woke up early and i thought i was back in cali but i wasnt, it was a weird deal.

raymi, i dont think ive been out of cali since i went to vegas with my true love 5-6 months ago and before that i cant even remember when.

in one way its nice to leave hollywood but in another way i miss it already. im very loyal, and i think that makes me satisfied even when im not supposed to be satisfied.

the weather. all you ever ask about is the weather, canadian girl, so i will tell you, its perfect. my mom and i drove around to my old high school and around the old neighborhoods and everything looked green and all the trees looked bigger and where we used to live seemed a little run down in some parts but a little better in others. growing up there now will produce much different tony pierces and im not sure if thats a bad thing or not.

this very nice guy just asked me on the chat why i hardly ever come back to my hometown and i told him that its like reading your favorite book but some asshole keeps ripping out pages and changing the best parts.

so today me and my mom are going to drive downtown, which is what you do when you live in the suburbs, and we’re going to take pictures of the new Soldier Field and Wrigley and maybe get a slice of Ginos pizza and say hi to all the nice people of the city.

i wish you were here raymi because my mom needs a few gray hairs.

my little neice is adorable.

only thing missing in this little trip is camera software that would allow me to upload my pics and share them with all of you, but maybe in the year 2004 you will be able to just plug your camera into the USB port and get it on.

sadly in 2003, your camera, and the cord, and the internet isnt enough.

anyhow, girlfriend, i hope youre doing well. my sister pay-per-viewed Bowling For Columbine last night and the whole family watched it and man that was some good stuff.

why do people bash michael moore more than bush? liberals even? i dont get it. whatever dumbshit things he has said, he says way more smartshit things, if you ask me, and as for movie making, the dude is gifted.

as fuck.

my mom Never, raymi listen to me Never can make it through a movie all the way if it starts after 7pm and she has a full meal in her belly. and not only did she make it but she watched the bonus interview with whatshisface on pbs afterwards, and we had a nice lil discussion too.

that is the sign of a compelling film.

and he tied it, somehow, to Flint. and to him.

im still blown away.

and i miss you.

hugs and kisses,

tony

raymi the canadian + machine4832 + lauren