im still in a hazy fog of happiness.

i was invited to return back to the greatest classroom ever and sit at the head of the table and teach. later i was asked by someone what i taught, what the book was about, what were the themes.

and i said the book was about sex drugs and rock n roll.

a few of my closest friends were there, my favorite teacher was there, the class was packed, nearly everyone had read the book and were giving their two cents. it was super nice.

they told me the terrible news that the college paper, the daily nexus wasnt good anymore, and right away i told them that that only means that they should write for it.

i told them that since the college of creative studies doesnt have any grades or tests or finals, i started writing at the nexus to not only practice writing, but to get paid to practice, and that nothing was better than having 10,000+ people read your shit every day.

i didnt say shit.

afterwards i gave my teacher a copy of Blook, which i had saved for her for over a year and a half now. then we walked to isla vista and had pizza at woodstocks. and it was delicious.

not only did she tell me that i did a good job, and that aj and i worked together very well in the class, but that i should get a masters in creative writing and persue teaching college. a million people have told me that, but when she said it i said ok. she never lead me into a bad thing. although at the top of her list of recommendations, above princeton, stanford, and cal arts, she kept talking about uc irvine.

i was thinking, i dont wanna be an anteater.

then she went home and our little happy group of close friends began drinking, eating, and then someone slipped something in our drinks which made us very fond of one another, and we sat infront of the biggest fireplace that ive ever seen and listened to jeanine serenade us on guitar, a piano was played, aj spun the most wonderful curtis mayfield slowjams and this morning i woke up


in santa barbara, and told my work that i was sick and they said cool cool

and i hope i get better quick because the pixies will hit the stage in about four hours and twenty minutes.

jeff jarvis says everything about the howard stern matter that needs to be said.

woke up early this morning to finish re-reading the basketball diaries

which i will be lecturing about today.

who hasnt dreamed about being a teacher after all those years of not being a teacher?

many weird things about today. first its my alma mater. second its the very classroom where i was told several times that i cant write and hundreds of times that not only can i write but im the next big thing in poetry. third two of my old girlfriends will be there. fourth my favorite teacher ever will probably be there. fifth my super great friend who stayed in isla vista and still lives there might be there. sixth i will play tsar for the kids and a tape of william hung.

seventh: then god is seven. then god is seven!

this monkeys going to heaven, and hes getting picked up with a skinny long haired guitar playing goddess in about twenty minutes, which is earlier than we planned.

heres what i think i love about the basketball diaries by jim carroll, the diary of a rich white bisexual teenage basketball player who ends up being a heroin addict before he turns sixteen.

it shows you that the great american novel doesnt necessarily have to be a novel.

it shows you that your diary entries can be short and sweet and turn into a movie starring leo dicaprio and marky mark.

it reminds you that if you just tell the story you dont have to worry about anything else.

im not exactly sure that it was really written when he was 14 15 and 16 because if it was then its the greatest teenage writing since anne frank.

many parts are unbelievable

he takes everything so matteroffact that its funny

and im supposed to believe that he was a great


basketball player in a town where teenage kareem abdul jabbar was simply “big lew” and 15 year old stoned longhaired jim carroll was his equal.

you totally forget that this is a basketball book what with all the drugs and sex and crime and violence.

its also interesting to hear him describe a full on east coast blackout in 1966 while on heroin.

yes i think i would be interested in remaking the film, thank you.

and yes there is a scene where he gets meets a pair of rich teenage twins.

thank you.

i cant believe we’re at war.

nightline is showing chunks of todays invasion of falluja via al jezzerra. it makes me love television and hate our president.

apparently people actually live in falluja and we’re marching to the center of town. blowing shit up and killing anything that moves on the way in.

the tv commercials remind me that the nba playoffs are happening, that i could buy a lexus if i wanted to, or i could vacation down in san diego if i wanted some fun gambling. then im told about a pick up truck i could own.

ted koppel wishes me goodnight.

now theres a saab commercial. now im being told about the new ride at disneyland. no wait its for disney california adventure. now theirs a nissan ultima ad. and finally a reminder from oprah that shes going to take us into the lives of the olsen twins at one am.

no this war isnt about control over oil.

why would america need oil? for our lexus’s or pick up trucks or saabs or ultimas?

for our mini vacations to san diego or anaheim?

im taking a mini vacation to isla vista today.

im going to be the special guest star in aj’s college of creative studies class at ucsb.

no way did i ever think i would be able to sit in a classroom there again.

its very nice.

very very nice.

there will be no more updates today since its an early class and afterwards i get to have lunch with my favorite teacher in the world. and some great friends. on the beach.

for one day theres nobody luckier than me.

i promise i’ll try to be cool about.

pinch the tail + kate sullivan + xtracyx + melting dolls has merch

my buddy mc brown found his way to the xbi hq

today and we had a nice little lunch at a fancy french place and one hot looking woman after another paraded by. we were lunching on the patio. and the founder of buzznet said shit i need to get out more often.

and i said, bro, it’s the only reason i still work at this dump.

i like marc brown cuz you can always talk music with him and he’s always got something new he’s into and both agreed at how amazing the william hung cd is, but i was shocked that he didnt know about the secret pixies show in pomona on friday and i was all dude youre slipping you used to be totally the go-to man for such things and he stirred his ice tea and said totally.

i dont know what it is but i could eat french food all day long.

maybe it had something to do with the view.

you have no idea how many emails i’ve gotten about president kerry’s medals and ribbons and him throwing them “away” etc. and you know what, im not interested in debating politics today. checking out girls in miniskirts with marc brown today and being fascinated by a well curved calves today made me put things in perspective.

the perspective that i got was one guy went to ‘nam, twice, killed a bunch of people and got hurt doing it.

another guy hasnt even proved after all this time that he even showed up for his peice of cake duty in the blah blah blah so far as i can tell this is a non issue

other than the fact that my boy seems to be lying about the medals and what he did with them.

but seriously, and this has nothing to do with politics, but debate, but does bush really want to get into a pissing contest about who’s the bigger liar?

i dont think so.

i think he just wants to lunch at chez l.a. and check out the latest in the spring fashions like the next guy instead of comparing and contrasting who lied about what and which means more.

whats the worst thing a president could lie to the country about? reasons to go to war, taxes, gas prices, blowjobs… medals?

all i know is a very short skirt takes away from a nice pair of shoes

but nothing can beat an ankle bracelette while eating mousse as the breeze blows past the tarpits.

raymi + gorilla mask + mindy

thank god this ridiculous show is over.

i swear. theres nothing i hate more than tv shows that waste perfectly good air in the name of numbing the minds of the american middleclass.

completely unwatchable show that appealed to the most generic middle of the road portion of the lowest common demoninator.

friends lost it when they canceled the monkey, who was easilly the most talented and interesting character on the long running series.

not that friends ever had it.

and i know it was popular and i know that most of my friends loved it and even my truest loved it and the people that i work with love it and my mom probably loved it.

all i can say is the germans loved hitler so there.

hitler woulda loved friends. perfectly scrubbed white people sitting around pretending to have lives. no black people anywhere until the producers realized that although the show was supposed to be taking place in the most diverse city in america, new york, that it had gone years and years and years without having any black people on the show, sending the crystal clear message that in the white-only fantasy that is friends black people are neither funny, interesting, or a good fit for such milquetoast “humor”.

just end already.

in real life jen is married to the most handsome actor in the world and she cant get knocked up. in real life chandler is addicted to pills and monica has an eating disorder and is married to a freak.

think any of those real issues that many people can relate to find their way into the show somehow? of course not. that would involve even a whisp of risk. the jokes might not come as easy, but big deal, there was very little that was truly funny about the show in the first place, so go for it.

if you ask me david arquette is one of the funniest people out there. why wasnt he on the show, and dont tell me its cuz he had a huge career going cuz he never had a huge career going. let him date monica on the show. duh. let him be the coked out freakazoid that he is in real life and then you’ll have a little edge to your perfect little hallmark card of a programme.

in a very special friends have chandler risk his entire career because of the legal pills that he became addicted to. if america loves the friends as much as they seem to let the boy act for once in his worthless life and release the pain he must have gone through as he found himself spinning out of control, only to be saved by one of the most beautiful black women in all of entertainment who will become his girlfriend in rehab: lil kim.

instead friends gave you aisha tyler. who is funny. who is beautiful. but is unlike any black woman that youve ever seen in your life as shes constantly smiling, incredibly approachable, perfectly harmless, and although darkskinned as safe a pick for a “black” character as nbc could have found.

lil kim however is her own woman has her own style and is far more new york than anything one would find in the central perk.

in an era where america has shown that they want reality shows, it is not suprising that friends, the most unrealistic top rated show since leave it to beaver (which had more edge) is now calling it quits.

my only plea is that they get on with it already and die.

happy belated birthday katie + flagrant’s post yesterday was 100x funnier than any friends + when kitty runs marathons we all win

even though it ended well, i had a

horrible day at work. one of those days where you cant get anything done and right after one guy sees you getting off the phone after yelling at another guy suddenly he decides to pick a fucking fight with you too.

swear to god i was holding my rolling stone in my hand about to go take my three oclock shit and the new guy starts talking trash and made me stop dead in my tracks. as a man you cant let certain things slide, particularilly from the new guy and he pouted the rest of the day after i fucking set him straight because nobody knows how to fucking say im sorry. im sorry tony i see youre having a rotten day i see you dont even have time to write. i see you dont even have a chance during your lunch to write. i see you dont have time to even talk nicely on the phone to people, so im going to leave you alone and answer your simple question after you ask it.

the question today was, will chopper one be ready to fly after i take my dump.

its a question i ask every day while i prepare for the three o’clock poopie club and maybe he’s sick of having to answer it, but you know what motherfucker, maybe im sick of having to fucking ask it. you know that time is coming and if you were smart you’d beat me to the punch and say settle in cowboy that bitch aint taking off till after 4:20 so maybe bring something more readable than that piece of trash they call modern journalism.

it was 101 degrees in hollywood today. you shoulda seen the fucking team coverage.

smartest guy i know regarding the war, a democrat, said that we should just fucking firebomb falluja and see if the kids grow up in love with nikes cuz this generation is obviously hopeless. his theory is we blew up japan and now theyre in love with nike and elvis so everything worked out. and if i was president i would let that leak out and see if those motherfuckers do like the new guy shoulda done which was not say this means war but say you know what, fuckit, i’ll be cool with you if you be cool with me.

they dont teach that shit in school. they dont teach anything decent in school. they dont teach how to fix your car, they dont teach how to write a resume, they dont teach how to make a girl cum with your thigh and they dont teach how to negotiate nonviolently.

they teach you how to sell out on every level.

i dont capitalize or spell check or even reread what i write as a f u to all the now-dead witches i had to deal with in grade school high school and junior college. i can count the good english teachers i had on both my middle fingers. hows that for symbolism you motherfuckers. wrote my ass off all my life and all they could say was i grammared bad or i put a semi colon where i shoulda put a comma or some shit.

meanwhile we had to sing the national anthem every morning which didnt rhyme, didnt make sense and had horrible meter. theyd a had a field day red penning francis scott that he probably woulda never written the thing if they had to go through what i had to go through. plus i was black. plus i was proud. plus i was listening to far too much ac/dc.

bad day ended up into a great night where i had too much fun to write. had dinner with a gorgeous blonde girl, talked on the phone with my truest, with karisa, and with the hottest cuban girl this side of the mississip. so much fun that i didnt even call back karisa even though i wanted to and promised her that i would. but didnt cuz i suck.

and now i have to finish my homework like a good boy so i can teach this bitch on thursday and i cant wait. and my reward is that if i can do it tonight i can sleep in santa barbara tomorrow, eat a burrito in iv on thursday and see the pixies on friday. and if im really luck i can makeout with that cuban chica on saturday.

p.s. feds, if youre reading this like my man the unsomnambulist says you might be doing, stick around, this shit is about to get way better.


i hate tuesdays.

i hate wednesdays. i hate mondays. im screwed. tuesdays we have our weekly meetings. typically they tell us how much chopper one has cost the agency and i have to defend it by saying how much money it has brought in. but not everything is that clear cut.

if someone says theres something going down in the lbc and we need chopper one for cover and if we dont get anything out of it then am i to blame? every meeting i want to say, its a black helicopter, it cant be seen on radar. the surveillance and intimidation and backup are priceless. but i cant because then everyones feelings will get hurt and people will start fighting and when we start fighting at work the guns get pulled and sometimes so do the triggers.

needless to say id much rather be flying around than being in a meeting. theres money to be made outside. i know we need our meetings but they could be done during lunch on fridays and it wouldnt bite into moneymaking time and people would chill the fuck out.

hot as fuck this morning. i got off the subway at wilshire and western and there were i swear 40 kids lined up for tonights morrissey show. most the kids had chairs or stools or sleeping bags or something. theyd been out there on the filthy sidewalk since last night. these are kids too young to ever have seen morrissey sing with the smiths. blows my mind. and its hot. and the scum of the earth walk around that corner sparechanging like a bitch.

in the three years that ive been commuting past wilshire and western ive never seen anyone sleep out over night for a show there until today.

the marquee said morrissey five nights sold out.

i love morrissey because he goes against everything. he’s gay but he pretends hes “asexual”. he doesnt have any hit singles out, he doesnt have any hot videos out, he split ways with the perfect guitar player and he insults his fans (“You’re The One For Me, Fatty”) and he can sell out anywhere he wants.

proof that holding true to your true self and image blows doors over selling out to whatevers hip at the moment.

i dont see him doing duet records or unplugged records or full soundtracks or even reunion tours. fucker just keeps on keeping on.

i love him and i dont even know what his new record is called.

five sold out nights at the wiltern and i dont think anyone knows what his new record is called.

does he have a new record?

hot as fuck and last night at eleven they had team coverage to tell me that at 91 degrees there were records broken. and if tivo was smart they would allow me to constantly send feedback to the broadcasters via my thumbs up and thumbs down buttons cuz i woulda mashed that red thumbs down button for a good five minutes before i went over to hbo to see the sopranos that i missed on sunday, which kicked my ass. thankfully. wonderfully. thoroughly. beautifully.

but the best news this morning was that howard stern got his ratings for march and he was up in new york chicago and la. but in san diego where he was dropped by clear channel, the station’s morning numbers plummeted from a 20 to a 0.6 in the prime demo of 18-34.

tiffany + howard’s ratings in san diego + welch

i just got off the phone. it was a semi-job-interview.

no i wasnt interviewing to drive semi trucks. it was a job that i didnt want but it pays buttloads.

they asked me if i liked being a superhero. i said that being a superhero is a dumb job cuz nobody cares unless you die or fuckup and blow shit up accidentally. they asked me to explain so i did.

i said that nobody cared that Pat Tillman, for example, gave up his $3 mil nfl contract to go fight in the army rangers until he was killed last week in afghanistan.

i said in a way the same goes for close games in sports. nobody calls your team great unless the game gets close. if you blow a team out 73-0 more people will think that one of the teams just totally sucked, they wont think that the winning team totally dominated.

they didnt understand that one so much. and instead of asking for clarification they went into other areas of the interview.

they asked me why i liked my current job. i said because my employer understands the legality of my two government mandated 15-minute breaks which allows me to write on my blog.

then they asked me what a blog was and i told them that i probably wouldnt fit in at their newspaper.

then the guy told me that this was the most unconventional interview that he had ever been part of because the applicant was bowwing out over one question.

i told him the applicant wasnt bowwing out over one question, i told him that the applicant was bowwing out over one answer.

then i told him that when you put an andy warhol velvet underground tshirt on an olsen twin it doesnt make the twin cooler, it makes the image of the record less cool. the record itself will never be uncool. it will be classic. but the image and therefore the tshirt will never be as cool because not only did a twin wear it but she wore it in got milk ad.

he didnt understand that either and asked me if i wrote the way i talked and i asked him how much of my stuff he had read and he said some and i said i love to write the way i talk but i usually write better than i speak because i have time to go over it and edit out all the ums ahhs and fucks.

then he laughed because he noticed an awful lot of fucks in my blog.

i said, so you do know what a blog is.

he said is that what i was reading of yours? then he told me that it took a long time to appear on his computer.

i asked him if he had dsl or cable modem and he said he wasnt sure.

he said he had aol.

and thats when i told him that i had to go back to saving the world.

he said, but

and i said i will not be the tshirt that you put on the pretty girl to convince the world that youre down.

that, i have great confidence, he understood, cuz he didnt say anything.

he just exhaled.

hottest girl at the xbi + xeni + howard owens

it’s 91 degrees here in hollywood.

so of course it was the lead story of the tv news. they were all, starting off our Team Coverage is Joe Schmoe in Van Nuys.

“yep, its hot out here in the valley, melissa.”

arent we at war or something? wheres the team coverage of that? arent gas prices like $2.11 for unleaded? arent the lakers in the playoffs? arent the dodgers in first place? did nothing happen this weekend that is more important than the weather?

didnt like a million people show up in washington dc because this administration is still threatening to stop women from having the choice to have abortions?

isnt our actor governor trying to cut millions in public school funding to help pay for the $14 billion california state budget shortfall? wheres the team coverage on that? wheres the team coverage to explain why the governator wont raise taxes on the rich to pay off the $14 bill?

instead the local abc news station here in LA wants to tell us that its hot outside.

i think we fucking know its fucking hot outside.

it was fucking hot on friday and saturday and sunday.

most of us went to the beach and drank and praised Jesus for allowing it to be hot here in LA as thats the reason most of us moved here.

plus its the end of april. its ok for it to be 90 in hollywood and 100 in the valley and desert. seriously, its ok.

its not ok to have a guy recall a governor because hes fucking up and then continue to do what the president is doing, which is stick it to public schools and trying to run a government in the red while bankrupting our future.

and its not ok to tell women that they cant have abortions when not only is it none of your gd business what they do with their reproduction, but how many unwanted babies do you seriously want? so in ten years when theres another budget crunch do you seriously want those unaborted kids in schools that today you refuse to fund?

how about this, “good afternoon everyone, its noon on monday and oprah still hasnt been fined yet for telling america what a tossed salad is, im harold reems.”

or this, “hundreds of thousands marched on washington this weekend to protect a woman’s right to choose what happens to her body. we have team coverage for the reaction here in the southland.”

although i do have to tell you it is butt hot here.

reminds me of a roadtrip i took to arizona when i was in college.


dawn olsen + listen missy + mc brown saw the time

i ate a lot of cheese this weekend.

sunset in venice

we also had ribs at tony romas while watching the laker game. it was the tony romas in beverly hills where there were a lot of black people surprisingly and my weekend date watched all the drinks being fixed up (we were in the romantic bar so as to be close to the tvs) and she was all, who knew these many people would be drinking at 2pm. i reminded her that we greeted the day with screwdrivers and she was like, but we’re young.

i chose the baby back half slab with corn fritters and baked potato. i dont know how you fuck up a baked potato but they did. the ribs were tender but needed a little love in the seasoning department. shes a rich girl and the day before passed on the makeshift bbq that a bunch of mexicans set up next to a freeway offramp and i explained to her that that would have been the best meal of the weekend but she told me that she has a sensitive stomach and i suggested that it was probably because she ate too safe.

we also had dessert at mr romas because the game was going into overtime and we wouldnt have a chance to go to coldstones since we would be driving as fast as we could to her condo on wilshire.

there we watched the overtime victory and fell asleep in each others arms with baseball on the telly.

she calls it the telly. i think its cuz shes from sweden.

woke up at 6ish and she ordered a pizza from mullberry street pizza. sausage and pepperoni. we watched stardust memories and laid on the couch.

the windows were open. breeze blowing through. i still i found myself wanting.

i wanted to see how the cubs had won that day.

i wanted to not have to wake up in the morn and go into the office.

but mostly i wanted a pair of shoes as i had only worn flip flops when she had picked me up and unless there were a spare pair of sneakers at the xbi, i would have to fly chopper one in sandals. which is usually ok unless i would be asked to land and chase someone.

lets hope we could just shoot the bastards before any chase unfolded today.

we slept a lot this weekend. had a bunch of sex. ate a lot of cheese.

drank tons.

but the best part was, i did laundry by putting it into a plastic bag and dialing the conceirge.

ive been living the wrong life all this time.

j-mo + delph + d-lo