kelly makes me happy. bono makes me happy. karisas truck makes me happy. miss montreal who not only made beautiful lust to me yesterday and today and folded all my clothes as her pool threw the most amazing lights all over her barely clothed canadian curves.

and its friday. and the mta is going to vote today to hopefully end the strike. and the cubs havent lost in weeks.

and yet im in the most foul of moods.

how can that be?

let me tell you a little about what happened last night.

got home and wrote. then watched the lakers win in double OT. then this incredibly dirty girl called me and told me that she wanted me and i told her i wanted her too. then i drove over to the yuppie part of town where miss montreal lives and she greeted me at the door with a look that made me forget all my troubles.

marvin gaye playing on the jukebox.

candles burning, incense wafting, hot fudge slowly making its way down the banana splits.

how can the luckiest man alive be so unsatisfied with pretty much everything?

its been nice driving karisas truck, but that got old pretty fast.

its been nice not having my boss at work all week, but still the job blows.

its been nice having the lakers win every game this season, but theyre supposed to win every game this season.

i dont want to do shit this weekend, and the good thing is i dont think i have to do shit this weekend.

all i have to do is watch my damn tivo.

did i tell you my buddy eric cold busted with hooking me up with hacking my tivo? i bought two 120 gig hard drives and he installed them and did his thing on them and now i have a two-tuner directv 230 hour tivo.

it’s lovely.

it makes me so happy.

that added with the new computer i have makes my life pretty much complete.

if only i had my old gas station job back. the one where i pumped gas for the stars and got hit on by young rich girls driving the cars their daddys bought them. who tipped me with their phone numbers.

once i dated these girls who were sisters…

mindy + katie + mental spigot

is that theres people from all over the world here. which means theres food from all over the world.

the food that im most fascinated by currently is philippine food. specifically hollywood philippine food.

usually i get tricked into one of these magical places because from the outside they look like $1 per item Chinese places in that they have the buffet style pans of crap with the heat lamps drying everything out, a crazy woman sitting on a stool waiting to serve you, and a mexican chap in the back with an apron listening to the clipper game on the radio.

i like philippine places like this because its almost like an adult lemonade stand: people just can believe that youre buying something from them, and when you do they always smile and smile and sometimes they’ll even shake your hand.

today they told me that i was parked in a red zone.

i was all, its karisas car, if she doesnt get a ticket a week the dmv will worry that shes dead.

one thing you can count on in philippine restaurants like this is you wont be able to recognize a damn thing other than the fried rice. call me nuts, but i like that. and youre bound to see a tray with an entire fish or two laying there with a slice of onion on it or a wedge of lemon or something unbelievably random like a hunk of sweet potato or some shit.

your best bet is not to ask what things are, it’ll just terrify you.

is that deep fried?

yes, its turtle.

oops.

today i got little squares of beef with swirls of onions, fried rice, and little cubes of pork with sweet sauce on it.

i think.

they were all very nice and it cost me less than four dollars.

tonight last nights girl wants me to come back over to spend the night again. apparently whatever it was that i did deserves an encore.

am i gay if i just want to stay home tonight, watch the lakers, and work on this novel?

if you saw this babe youd say yes tony, youre gay. and then youd step on my toe.

i went over there yesterday primarily to see her, of course, but also to do my laundry. besides being beautiful shes also very rich and has a washer and a dryer back by her poolhouse. but i only got one load done, and that one barely, so this morning i had to leave my stuff at her place and go to work.

have you noticed that my job really gets in the way of my life?

smart as this girl is, i dont think she understands that im not the kickass writer that she thinks i am. i just cant sit in her den and knock out pages for the novel with a snap of the fingers.

i need all my stuff around me.

i need the stereo on with the right music. i need the tv on. i need a few virgins fumbling with their restraints wondering if they will be sacrificed that night. i need my diet dr pepper because i probably am gay.

i need my thinking cap. i need my special rum. i need my munchies. and i need to be focused.

and there is nothing about this hot young woman that allows me to be focused on anything other than her.

i have to shower now and head on over there.

heres some kickass flash movies that i found thanks to aaron, eric, and viral planet

the end of the world + themeatrix + boohbah

let me write your blog.

richest man in the world and no one really knows anything about you.

i know you wrote a book, but who reads books any more? i sure as hell dont.

i read blogs. i think everyone reads blogs nowadays. everyone i know at least.

heres what we do. i move up to seattle. either i can live in that crazy huge house of yours or you hook me up with something downtown. then every day i get to shadow you and i write about it.

if shit goes over my head i’ll say so.

11:45am, im sitting in the east campus and im in a meeting with bill and mohammed and opal and jerry, shits really going over my head but bill just cracked this super funny joke that i think he stole off futurama.

maybe you dont remember me, but i used to work for you very briefly. i was an outsourced employee for webtv and then when you guys bought webtv, i was an outsourced employee for msft. maybe you saw me at comdex. i was the guy right next to the porsche telling all the cameras about the new webtv plus.

5:09 pm, i challenge bill to three shots of 151, he talks me down to two cuz he claims he has to drive home. i remind him that one of the interns can drive us both home. so he says yes to two shots of 151 and a half a beer. we end up talking about the portland trailblazers and laugh and laugh and laugh. hes got a funny laugh.

sure i want to know about how smart you are, cuz i dont really really believe that youre as smart as you were lucky. but you did hold on to your head start so maybe you are smart, or maybe you got the smart people to work for you. and if you are that smart, i want people to know that the smart people can end up successful, cuz thats not how it always is.

and if youre lucky i want to go to vegas with you and find out how lucky you really are.

7:20pm, still drinking. we’ve sent out for cough medicine. bill says hes never had a flaming moe. i called him a liar and he took off his glasses and said right here! and dared me to a brawl. i think he meant it. i made a fist and three robots shot me with paralyzing darts and i froze for three seconds. he stepped aside and three totally different robots shot me with unparalyzing darts and i was able to complete my punch, missing, and fell on my face to a chorus of hoots and hollers. gotta admit, it was pretty awesome.

bill gets me a screwdriver and reminds me that hes the fucking man, tosses a peanut into the air and it nearly chips a tooth.

one thing i dont want to write about is money. money is the red herring in your life. its the fakeout. and im not interested. im far more intrigued by you as a person. someone who has great pressures, and a strange little monopoly that everyone likes to bitch about but no one is courageous enough to defect from.

i want to tell people about some of the cool projects coming down the pipeline. i want to tell people and show people that youre a real man with real issues and real concerns and real headaches.

being famous and powerful and smart and still pretty young and at the forefront of the biggest thing in this new millenium has Got to be trippy as all hell.

it needs to be blogged.

and that job would be worth it for me to leave the comfort of southern cal to go do.

but only for a year.

and if it turns into a book, i would want all the money to go to charity.

your pal,

tony

makeout city + flagrant + vodka pundit

let me give you a little tip about life, boys. dont tell a girl who likes having sex with you — a lot — that youre going to sleep over at her house and not have sex with her.

dont believe her when she says shes on the rag.

dont bring over your laundry, dont drink her wine, dont let her turn up the heat, dont dare her to wear something sexy, dont tell her that her lips look good shining in the candlelight, dont think that her roommate not being around doenst mean anything

and dont think that youre not going to get any even though youre trying to stay pent up for the dumbest novel ever.

and after she pulls out every secret weapon, dont hit the control > C buttons on her G4 so as to copy your sex book chapter post into your novel before you hit post+publish

because macintosh sux and control > C apparently means “take this chapter and dispose of it motherfucker… forever.”

and here i used to like apple.

and here i thought it would be ok to write anywhere else other than in chopper one or the friendly confines of my walk-in closet at my bachelor pad. but oh i was wrong.

so wrong.

im wrong about everything.

thats the main reason i put the disclaimer up there a long time ago, and why i dont preach on sundays, and why i dont manage the cubs.

id be doubling stealing all the time, telling people the bible says you can smoke weed, and thinking i can blog from just any old damn where.

i dont know shit.

thats why the big wigs dont hire my black ass. they know.

showed the novel to the temptress last night.

she said it was poetry.

maybe thats why its taking so f’ing long.

i havent written a poem in forever.

the cub reporter lost his house in the fire + the southpaw + drop stones

very fun, super smart, big titted hot chick. but i am going to sleep with her. and i havent mastur-you know- in almost a week. and i have porn playing on my tv right now. and she is incredibly soft. and her roommate is gone. and she has a great bed. and i have like 100 condoms.

its an experiment in stupidity. the idea is to rile myself up so much while i write this dirty novel, that hopefully, as it gets written, it will get hotter and more crazed with each turn of the page.

heres how i got the date, since the kids always ask me how i do it:

Superhotbabe: did you leave yet?

dumbme: no

dumbme: im about to go in the shower

Superhotbabe: ok, are you sleeping over

dumbme: ok do you want me to?

Superhotbabe: well, its up to you

dumbme: actually its up to you

Superhotbabe: well it could be fun

Superhotbabe: I am inviting you

Superhotbabe: but it is up to you to accept

dumbme: i accept

Superhotbabe: ok

dumbme: maybe you should wear something sexy

Superhotbabe: you think?

dumbme: i need to be riled up as i write

Superhotbabe: hmmmm

dumbme: i dont need to be

dumbme: but i think it would be good

dumbme: for the art

Superhotbabe: you got it, now get in the shower

dumbme: can i put this chat on my page?

Superhotbabe: sure

dumbme: i’ll change your name… slightly

Superhotbabe: ok

dumbme: thanks!

Superhotbabe: see you soon

dumbme: probably 915

Superhotbabe: ok

dumbme: do you want a burger?

Superhotbabe: come in and get a parking pass

Superhotbabe: no, i already ate

dumbme: ok

dumbme: do you need anything?

Superhotbabe: no, i’m good thanks

dumbme: k bye!

Superhotbabe: bye

there you have it, all my secrets revealed

for your ass.

bastard family + twisted fans + pressure zone

hi. my name is tony. youre my local gentleman’s club and i would like to write a blog for you.

whats a blog? its a web page where i would document the day to day activities of your club.

dont worry, i would leave out all the monkey business and top secret stuff. and i would make up good junk to keep the kids from being bored.

why do you need a blog? oh man, im so glad you asked that!

i think you need a blog because the few times ive been there it was empty. that was good news to me cuz i got paid so much attention it wasnt even really fair, but thats not the way you really want things to stay do you?

maybe you do.

maybe its all a big front.

maybe its all just a little front. regardless, i think i could do this and do it right for you.

strip clubs are all pretty much the same. i know people will disagree but fuck them. what are the top three strip clubs in america?

theres the mitchell brothers place in frisco. theres scores in nyc. and then what… one of the places in vegas?

call me crazy, but a kickass blog about a hollywood hole-in-the-wall strip joint on hollywood blvd could help raise said club to #4 in the nation: on recognition alone.

think about all the tourists who come to LA. half of them are men. and half of them are unattached. maybe half of them would be interested in seeing some california girls dance around and take off their pants.

do a blog right, cheetahs, and when those men come to LA they will be asking directions to hollywood blvd. and not to see mann’s chinese theatre, i assure you.

ok i dont assure you, but i bet ya.

i’ll bet ya thirty grand.

pay me thirty grand over a year, let me show up at the club around dinner time and stay till close 5 nights a week and after six months if i havent increased traffic in that place cuz of a dumbass blog, then i will give you thirty grand.

ok, twenty grand.

ok nothing.

i cant bet you anything, im broke, but you know it would help.

and if you cant get me thirty grand, how about twenty and free drinks?

your pal,

tony

p.s. the kids tell me im a really good righter

ultrablognetic + a dog named clipper + zak + alecia made a photo essay!

she wanted to know if the entry i wrote about her was really about her or was it fiction. her accent is still pretty thick, or she was eating something, but i kept asking what?

she kept saying fiction, fiction, but it sounded like something else entirely.

we fought like crazy and she hung up on me.

then she called back and asked if i had hung up on her. i said no, that she had hung up on me. she didnt believe me. nobody ever believes me. people believe me when they shouldnt.

got a little call from the fbi the other day. wanting to know about the xbi.

i hung up on them.

fuck them.

they called back and asked me if i knew i had just hung up on the fbi.

i was all, rule number one of the xbi, if the fbi calls, hang up.

then i hung up again.

went to the tsar show last night. kristin convinced me to go. thanks kristin.

have i told you how much i heart kristin?

i do.

if i was a young frat boy at the university of oklahoma, i would wipe the crimson and cream from my face, i would stand outside kristins sorority house, i would hold my boom box high above my head and i would play the new tsar cd in the rain in a trench coat.

i have a new favorite tsar song cuz of last nights show (pictured), it’s called Wrong.

how whalen doles out these anthems is beyond me.

he was all uptight about the monitors, about the lack of bass, about the mix, but everything sounded beautiful.

me marc brown and brendan stood in the front and rocked out cuz thats where it was the loudest.

i took pictures but they never turn out the way you want them to.

i learned some things about my flash in relation to smoke machines.

i met two very nice people who are on a three month road trip and asked if they could take a picture with me for their blog.

maybe they’ll remind me what their url is and i will link it.

tsar are the gods of hollywood rock.

im glad i left the house.

splink is on the road + get well matt + inkgrrl

and i forget its the devil, i think im fucking something up.

two hot chicks followed me home from the store tonight.

one was invited, a sweet little el salvadorian number from the ninety nine cents store.

i forget her name but there was an x in there somewhere near the middle.

shaved eyebrows with a tattoo eyebrow making the most unnatural curve.

unbelieveable spanglish, long fingernails, tight body, and a turbo saab that her last boyfriend gave her before he found out that she was a cashier at the ninety nine cent store.

i was feeling a little depressed after work today because it seemed like i had been in a fight with every damn one and i wasnt even honking at the grocery store strikers and raising my fist any more.

went up to the smelliest fucked up homeless woman tonight with four ones rolled up and out and asked her if she had eaten dinner and she said, no thanks im doing something here and turned back at the pigpen-dirty wheelchair that she had been sitting in and readjusted the blanket that i believe she was pissing on while standing up

and somehow satan had convinced me that i shouldnt go to the tsar show tonight, reminding me that i hadnt written my five pages to my novel yet, how i hadnt written five yesterday neither and how only i would refuse the company of a big titted hotchick who had been giving in every way to i could remain pent up so i could write said novel but then not write but four pages and then peter off

like a bitch.

say what you want about the president of the united states but he never let the devil talk him out of doing something, even if he shouldnt be doing it at all under any circumstance.

god i hate the president of the united states.

there always has to be an asshole in the mix. doesnt there.

my true love called me today.

thats how you fight the devil.

my true love called and told me the most wonderful things.

this other girl at work she told me the most romantic story. a tale about a young black woman and the man shes in love with, a pakistani man whose parents want him to marry a pakistani woman.

my work has me On like thirty percent more than before.

i have almost no free time.

the type of crime we fight is so widespread right now that its like an infestation.

of course i need to go see tsar.

if only just for an hour.

then back to you.

then back to the book about hot sex between kick ass people.

one who works at a ninety nine cent store in hollywood california

and one who is so fucked up

its never boring.

<3 kristin <3