i cant sit on them. my hope is someone will read this one day and go, holy fuck man, and then insist that i work for them. better yet, that i work with them.

its ten thirty. i havent eaten yet. i had a very nice surprise guest who offered to drive me home from work. then we had beers and talked and talked and then my landlady wanted me to mail my rent check. and then miss montreal called. then my true love. there just arent enough hours in the day.

im reluctant to watch this pete rose interview on abc. im reluctant to watch donald trumps new show.

all i want to do is write to you as tom waits sings me his newest songs off my media player.

all i want is for calgon to take me away.

all i want is something different better faster sleeker louder taller thicker wetter juicier with less calories and no carbs.

tsars on now.

if it wasnt for bukowski i would think that either you made it at nineteen or you never made it ever. that either the world got you immediately or the best you could wish for was something cool after you died.

i dont think i wrote anything very good for aarons baseball blog and for that, aaron, i apologize.

i miss the sopranos.

wanna know what i resolve.

its ok to have new new years resolutions eight days after the new year.

i resolve to just be cool about the job i have.

and the life im leading.

and the words that get typed in this space.

its all so disposable anyway isnt it. no more or less important than my twenty nine dollar dvd player.

in real life america. in real life, theres a hot shot young woman who wants to spend the weekend with me doing what i love to do.

nothing.

once she just slept on my couch while i wrote and thats pretty nice.

im sorry i complained that it was seventy today, canada.

i’ll stop wishing i was better.

amy + aaron’s baseball blog + leah now has comments

i have a staff of writers composed entirely of a hundred monkeys who think that they are the stars of this blog and not i. some days they might be right.

i wore a sweater into work today like a chump. its seventy one degrees here in LA today but its a cold seventy one if you can believe that.

had a little controversy with the blogger header today. the blogger header is the picture that i put on the top of this blog. usually i will take a picture and do something with it. sometimes i will just crop a picture. the other day tina linked to the incredible illustrations of kozyndan.

i of course fell in love with their style immediately

and i of course ganked their shit without permission.

cuz im a bum.

and of course they wrote me and called me out.

as they should.

with a very super superdooper wtf.

with a bonus compliment thrown in.

which is why i will probably get one of their posters soon.

im thinking about the bus one.

ashley just called me. crying. that girl sure can cry. i keep telling her i have to work. she doesnt care. she can hear the blades of chopper one but she doesnt believe that its me flying around hunting down bad guys.

she says i dont miss her. but i do.

i do.

for two years i talked to her every day. more than once a day.

of course i miss her.

today is a bizarre day.

i wish i had a way to express it to you in a word or two as thats all i have.

i wish there was one word that could paint the picture.

lets think of a good word now.

meadowlark.

today is as crazy as a damn meadowlark, people.

luckydisc

except for the chicks. i never liked wearing a suit to work. never liked mondays. never liked working overtime. never liked paying my rent. even though i hardly have to pay anything.

my landlady called today. shes 91. she actually called yesterday.

am i going crazy tony, or have you not paid your rent?

i called her this morn and told her that she wasnt going crazy, that for whatever reason i was the one who had forgotten to pay my rent.

i would love it if they just took my rent right out of my paycheck. everyone else seems to have their way with my paltry check.

this morning i wasnt so happy when i arrived at the hangar. chopper one was getting another overhaul. its creepy. i dont trust them.

heres what i like to do when i get into work. i like to read my email as chopper one warms up. i like to get a croissant from across the street and eat it with my apple juice. i like to see if anyone has commented on the post that i wrote the night before, then i like to fly chopper one around santa monica as the morning begins.

lately my routine has been all screwy.

its affecting the writing.

im so very sorry.

i feel like im a fish and a bunch of weirdos are making me drink booze.

a hot chick is gonna spend the weekend with me. a vacation of sorts. a weekend excursion. im thinking about just having her get a bunch of food and beer and lock ourselves up in my guest house in the back and lock all the doors. and while she sleeps i’ll write and while shes awake we will go through the tivo and just watch and watch and hold hands and watch her try on different outfits.

these are the things hemingway did, im pretty sure.

the drinking parts at least.

problem is a big time porn company has flowed me free tickets to the adult video convention in vegas this weekend.

i could go, but then the prospective employers who might be reading this blog might think that im some perv. im no perv. im just bored and i have no problems with naked people who get down.

people have dumber jobs.

like me.

read it before she deletes it again + steph + rupaul