i know im not the easiest man to date.

especially over long periods of time. being as old as i am has its advantages but also disadvantages like, for example, i know another chick is right around the corner if this chick bails. im not sure thats as healthy to a relationship as it should be.

im also not afraid to die. and not afraid not to have kids or be married before i die. im not sure that either of those things are good for a strong bond.

seems to me fear is important in relationships, but im not afraid of anything. if a girl wants to make me feel lonely or alone, she can give it a shot, but as an accused hermit with dsl directv tivo and the netflix of porn, odds are im not going to be lonley for too long. plus theres that business about that chick around the corner.

with that said i want to be good to the girls i date. and i want to be honest and i want to let them know how i feel about them. and yes i play favorites and im not always consisistant, but usually i am, and usually everyone knows whats going on.

but usually doesnt mean always and i have to apologize to ms anna kournikova who is so mad at me right now that she might go off and do something rash like marry that dude whateverhisname is who plucked out his mole for her and stopped singing terrible songs or at least just keeping them in south america where people just dont know any better although they really did love pantera and maiden way more than youd expect.

anyway, anna, im sorry. i thought you were cool with everything but i guess i didnt tell you enough. of course i like you more than just for your body and for your hair and your accent and the way we kiss when we kiss.

youve taught me tons about lots of things like russia and communism, you taught me about how marketing isnt a bad thing cuz as in your example only a handful of people are going to have nice long successful careers and its good to go out there and get whats yours while you can.

and most of all you taught me that some girls cant get their titties felt up enough. and i appreciate that cuz i always thought that a fella oughtta pay attention to the tits but not over do it.

so thanks.

whatever you decide to do is cool with me.



memorial day always makes me sad

so last night the fates allowed me to have a new hot chick spend the night with.

we listened to live ozzy with randi rhodes on vh-1 classics, we had dinner at 7-11, and when we got home we marveled at welch’s smiths cover,

and then she wanted to see old pictures of me for some reason.

i thought that it would make me sad but it didnt this time.

no idea why.

i noticed that my afro was usually fucked up.

but i also noticed that 3 out of 4 envelopes of photos always included at least one picture of someone lifting their shirt. usually it was my true love.

ive had a good life, it was agreed. and she said, if theres anything that we should do on memorial day it’s not to be depressed about how things should be right now but be happy for how we got here and what is bound to happen in the present and the future.

and try not to think of war.

i was all, arent we supposed to think of only war and soldiers on memorial day? isnt that the point of the day off of work?

she said technically. but they fought for our freedoms, including the freedom of choice. and if you choose to think about things like, i dont know, making out, maybe thats ok.

girls say those things but they dont mean it, i thought. they say making out but they mean fucking. there was nothing in that girl that wanted to make out. she never looked at my lips. she had knee high boots. little skirt that was always flashing something or someone. lil fake plastic dracula teeth. and a tattoo that said tattoo in japanese.

maybe shed make out when you were doing her but the pre makeout session wouldnt be all that great or long, i thought.

and i was right.

as always.

and if i was smart i’d head down to staples and get a two hundred dollar playoff ticket for fourty and watch the lakers cruise into the finals.

but even though im usually right, im not smart. smart requires logic. and a shred of normalcy. and if i even had a shred of normalcy i wouldnt be blogging at ten thirty eight on a gorgeous monday morning in hollywood.

flagrant‘s blogging in africa + bunnie blogs for a full hour + if i was maxim i would hire raymi to blog for me

who told the pope we gave a fuck what he thinks?

running around saying that america is soulless? is he finally coming out against the american priests who were molesting the little boys?

strangely, no. he was talking about the regular non-molesting americans who are soulless because we actually buy things.

well what do you expect us to do with all our money, the pope? give it away?

as a matter of fact we do.

not like we planned on it, but currently america is running on a $46 billion trade defecit. if we werent as “materialistic” as you judge us as being the world would be $46 billion poorer. is that what you really want?

no, you want to pretend like if the pope says something then it matters.

fine pope, tell the world how theres not one story in the bible about pre-marital sex being sinful. tell the world how theres not one mention of the word pope in the bible. and tell the world how the bible says that God gave ALL the green plants to us to use, all meaning even weed, the happy tabbacy, the green plant that makes you laugh.

you know why the good book doesnt mention Popes or Cardinals or Bishops in the bible? because Jesus said himself that the only way to the father is through the son.

so fuck the pope. and confession. and nuns. and celebacy, and the vatican.

“[The American church]…is called to respond to the profound religious needs and aspirations of a society increasingly in danger of forgetting its spiritual roots and yielding to a purely materialistic and soulless vision of the world,” John Paul told several US bishops who were in Rome on a mandatory visit.

And it’s true, we do have some profound religious needs and aspirations to respond to, but materialism has less to do with it than a complete lack of nationally recognized religious leaders who are neither politically motivated nor appear on daily programs that plaster telephone numbers across the screen directing the viewers where to “contribute”.

The pope droned on by saying, “taking up this challenge, however, will require a realistic and comprehensive reading of the ‘signs of the times,’ in order to develop a persuasive presentation of the Catholic faith and prepare young people especially to dialogue with their contemporaries about the Christian message and its relevance to the building of a more just, humane and peaceful world.”

The signs of the times are that gays want to be married. The signs of the times are that 60% of american minorities in prisons are there on drug related crimes. The signs of the times are that the Catholic church is better known for scandals than sanctity.

If you want to hold homosexuals to the letter of the laws of leviticus (Lev 18:22, Lev 20:13), then why aren’t you condemning Catholics for doing things like working on Sundays when the entirety of Lev 23 demands that we take the whole day off or be “destroyed”.

Leviticus 19:27 says we cant get haircuts or shave our faces. I see you don’t have a beard you old fuck. Whassup with that? Why aren’t you being turned away by the Catholic church the way gays lesbians and the transgendered are?

sign of the times says that of all the hypocrites of the world, you and your church are the biggest. and Leviticus and how you pick and choose what parts you want to uphold being your grandest crime.

The verse after the don’t get a haircut verse says don’t get any tattoos (Lev 19:28. Are you saying that there are no Catholic priests with tattoos? Are you saying that if two Catholics who want to get married and they have tattoos, they will be treated the same way as two lesbians who want to get married?

Same book of laws. Leviticus. So why do the short haired tattoo Sunday workers get let off the hook and the gays don’t?

Leviticus is also the book that says that we cant eat shellfish and pork or fuck our wives when theyre on the rag. How come all of that is cool all of a sudden? Is it because Jesus showed up and changed the rules?

Yes, he did slightly change the rules. In fact he did echo Leviticus once. Once.

It was his “new” commandment, “A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another.” (John 13:34)

which sounds an awful lot like (Lev 19:18) “Thou shalt not avenge, nor bear any grudge against the children of thy people, but thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself: I am the LORD.”

but the Catholics bear grudges like a mother effer. Ten percent of your neighbors are gay. Ten percent of your clergy is gay (or would be, if you allowed them to come out). Shit the dude who designed the best parts of your castle/church was gay as he was painting the Sistene Chapel. But you don’t love or recognize them the way that you love yourself. You treat them worse than lepers, as even Jesus loved lepers.

“An effective proclamation of the Gospel in contemporary Western society will need to confront directly the widespread spirit of agnosticism and relativism which has cast doubt on reason’s ability to know the truth, which alone satisfies the human heart’s restless quest for meaning,” you said last week to the American bishops, but you dont mean it. How could you mean it since you pick and chose which parts of the Gospel you wish to uphold and which you dont.

If there is a widespread spirit of agnosticism in contemporary Western society it is because by your very existence as “pope” you are in conflict with the Gospel.

I dont expect you to tear down the Vatican, a temple of lies and man-made myth, and since it would be too punk rock to expect you to just let the gays get married the same way you let Britney get hitched in Vegas, what you can do, since youre old and primed to bitch, is tell the world to quit its war on green seed-bearing plants that make people laugh.

Especially since sometimes those plants help soothe the pains that terminal patients feel, and helps ease the pain that regular humans have to deal with every fucking day in this struggle between good and evil and bullshit artists who talk about countries that they dont know shit about.

Yes some of us are very dearly seeking to know the truth, which is why some of us not only read the Bible closely but pay attention more to what Jesus said and did more than the church. And figuring that He even said Himself that the only way is thru Him, this human heart’s restless quest for meaning doesnt need your sorry ass in the slightest.

So tell your bishops whatever you want. You might start telling them to beg forgiveness a little more on tv for the heinous sins of the church. Until then there’s very little to talk to you about.

zulieka + banana + dirty fez

Dear Tony,

Right now I’m should be in the back of a Vanaggon sleeping under the stars with this hottie that I’ve been with for a year. She’s not my girl. But we date a lot. Even though, she says she considers me her boyfriend. And I must say, when I think of things like Memorial Day weekends the first person I think of is her.

And that is why last week at this time I was telling her that I wanted to drive up to San Francisco with her in my Vanaggon, real slow, camping along the way, and being together for all four days.

She was into it.

The plan was to have no plan.

Just drive.

Pull over and check shit out when it was cool, drive when it was dull.

Just hold hands and ride north and fuck against trees along the way.

In the middle of the week she called and told me that she couldnt spend all four days with me because her roommates were going to have a Memorial Day party on Sunday and she had to be there for it because she and her roommates have been best friends forevr.

Normally that sort of shit would piss me off, but I have tried to be better to her, and I told her it was a bummer because, strangely, even though we’ve dated for a year, we’ve never gone out of town together, and never had a roadtrip together. But I understood the closeness that she has for her friends, and I realize that sometimes I can get in the way of their activities.

She asked if I was mad and I said, I would get over it. And I thanked her for telling me early enough so I could do something else.

So we ammended our plans to drive down to Mexico on Friday (I was going to get out of class early on Friday, and pick her up and be on the road by 4pm), and be back in LA by Saturday night. A quickie little trip but fun. A mini roadtrip.

Friday came and she IMed me and said she was looking forward to our weekend. I told her that I was super tired and wondered if we could just chill at my parents house in Newport cuz they would be out of town and I was having second thoughts about crossing the border twice in two days. She said all she wanted to do was be naked with me, and my folk’s place would be great since it would be cleaner than my apartment.

Then she made a smiley face.

So that night I met her at their place and she laid down on the couch and we held each other and she fell asleep and I let her nap a while and when she woke up she told me that she couldnt spend the night cuz she had been on two dates with this new guy and she just hasnt figured out how to emotionally deal with dating two guys.

So she said she had to sorta stop dating me for a while. Starting right then. She started to cry. She asked me if I was mad. I told her I couldnt tell her what to do with her life. I wasn’t her boyfriend. I think she wanted me to fight. I didn’t want to fight. I was exhausted from the week. I was a little tipsy from the beers I had been drinking and the two vicodin I had eaten for my bad back. And I was shocked.

She and I hadn’t had a fight in months and months. Our sex life had only gotten increasingly better. I was banging the hell out of this chick every time we’d see each other. She would lay on the bed afterwards and just say quietly oh my god oh my god oh my god. There was nothing that we wouldnt do to each other. Nothing.

If she felt like our relationship was getting dull or something, I mean, wasn’t that why we were going on the road trip? Wasn’t that a good idea? Every time I reach out to her she punishes me. I had just written a poem about kissing her that she said she loved. I had just made all these cds for her.

And by telling me right there and then that she was reneging on the two-day weekend plans made me really furious because I had told her that that was the only thing what would have bothered me if she had canceled our roadtrip at the last minute. As long as I have a little bit of time to realign things and rearrange things I’m cool, but this wasn’t cool and she knew it.

She kept saying that she was sorry for being an asshole. She kept saying that she knew she was wrong. That she was sorry. She was taking full blame.

So now I’m sitting here. It’s Saturday night. I’m in this huge beach side house that’s really clean and really empty and it sucks.

I can’t write about it on my blog because I don’t want to give her the pleasure of knowing that I even care. Because I know there’s something psychological that she’s trying to do to me, I just don’t know what. What the hell did I do to her to deserve this?

And that’s why I’m writing to you. You seem to know how to handle dating multiple women. Maybe not everything on your blog is false. So could you help a brother out?


Saul in Newport Beach

dear saul,

id like to begin this by saying something sweeping and shockinglike “all you bitches crazy” but everyones crazy, certainly not just all you bitches.

half you bitches voted for bush. that even in retrospect is crazy given that clinton gore did wonders for this cuntry and the only handful of shit that ever stuck to clinton was that he actually did have sex with that woman. oooooo. still have you bitches vote for bush and you’ll still vote for him in novemember despite the economy stupid despite the gas prices despite iraq despite the fcc despite the fact that he Still cant pronounce abu ghraib despite the fact that he still cant find osb or wmd and it took him a nearly a year of occupation to find saddam. but youre all, its cool, and what do you want us to do… think?

and the other half of you bitches let it all happen. the fcc Still hasnt fined oprah. the president Still hasnt released his national guard records. and the voting machines in florida still arent fixed.

therefore it doesnt suprise me that your bitch is crazy since all you bitches crazy. i suggest you drop her into the once a month club. that means once a month. no weekends. no overnights. and no kissing. bitches who dont respect a good thing will never respect a good thing. by dropping her out of the heavy rotation youre not punishing her, youre weening you. and if she has a key to your crib change the locks.

g’s up,


kevynn + raspil + angelina

this week in rock in LA

tonight 5/28

prince, staples

the motels, hollywood park casino

ozma, mr. t’s bowl

soccer mom, 14 below

child pornography, the smell

saturday 5/29

alanis morissette, the grove (free) – noon

shock g, viper room

primus, verizon amphitheatre

sunday 5/30

the spazmatics, dragonfly

extreme elvis, king king

monday 5/31

sondre lerche, hear music (free)

the gin blossoms, hollywood park casino

sondre lerche, troubador

tuesday 6/1

yo la tengo, henry fonda theatre

third grade teacher, spaceland

driving by braille, the derby

ron sexsmith, troubador

wednesday 6/2

madonna, the pond

wetback, spaceland

this scares me, the smell

lambchop, knitting factory

thurs 6/3

prince, staples

madonna, the pond

stan ridgeway, knitting factory

pato banton, key club

fri 6/4

eagles of death metal, amoeba (free)

the shins, wiltern

eric case + sk smith + wonkette emailed me back and i nearly fell over *swoon*

problem is, she knows when its too late.

its one twenty five am and its too late. long legs. smooth. maybe a little too smooth. not a blemish, not a mark. he seriously thought to himself, she might be an android. then remembered that she had made that joke about putting on a strapon and effing him. so this is what they meant by anal probe.

her eyes were closed. he couldnt stop kissing her belly and telling her how good looking she looked. hed kiss and say, see, now thats good shit. search for a new target a few inches away and kiss and say, yep.

the white stipes were on in the living room speakers. something about jolene jolene jolene jo-lene…

but neither of them noticed. jesus candle blowing from the open sliding glass door which should be closed he thought cuz shes sorta loud and went back to not thinking and aiming at better parts and slowly moving down to the perfect perfect skin perfect from years of soaking in a tub waiting for a good man but tonight she settled again.

this shit is worth something he told her, seemingly genuine for once, but completely inappropriate considering the situation. she smiled. had to.

kissed over there and said fifty cents right there.

kissed over here and said probably about a good fourty cents depending on the supply and

kissed the neck and said buck, buck fiddy.

closer to the ear, two bucks.

ear, twenty

ears arent cheap

kissed around the hair line, inhaled deeply



kissed her forehead




kissed her nose

and then top smiling lip

twelve fiddy





three hundred

three hundred

three hundred


amy + sutter + noah

why today’s new york times mention

makes me pissed off at the Instapundit. by tony pierce, 110.

as you are well aware, today the paper of record, the epitome of high class american journalism, printed part of an interview with me, and linked this very blog on from its website.

the approximate amount of traffic that i will get from that link from the nyt will be around 3,000 hits today. not bad when you consider that i average about 1,000 hits a day.

however, earlier this month, my new best friend atrios linked me and i got 7,000 hits, more than twice the number of the highly respected and deservedly so new york times.

atrois’s numbers still pale in comparison to the Instapundit who could easilly bring in 3, 4, or 5 times the amount of traffic to the fortunate blog who is lucky enough to find himself on the other end of a link when Indy decides to take a break from blogging, as he did yesterday as he is away travelling.

glenn’s site, instapundit.com averages over 120,000 hits a day, according to his site meter.

this hour alone he got more hits (4,765) from the blogosphere than i will get all day from the new york times.

my hope is that my man would actually do something interesting with those hits other than just be a drudgeclone.

and although i am not implying that he is intentionally abusing his influence by linking solely to news articles and bloggers and blogs who echo is political bent, i would like to invite him to broaden his scope and share the love a little more than he has done in recent months, particularilly in regards to non-partisan news stories like the involvement of Riggs Bank and their record-breaking fine of $25 million for aiding the Saudi’s to money launder and fund at least two of the 19 terrorists responsible for the tragedies on 9/11.

the reason mr. reynolds gets so many hits a day is because he is generally believed to be a reliable news filter. as a law professor he apparently has enough free time in his day to read scores of newspapers and websites and as a free service to the web he links to many of those current event stories and news blurbs and provides insightful and reasonable commentary in short, readable chunks.

however when he refuses to do things like discuss the testimony that donald rumsfeld gave earlier this month, seriously discuss the accusations that pulitzer winning investigative reporter seymour hersh levvied against the defense secretary saying that the cia said that rumsfeld expanded a highly secretive operation originally intended to find Al Qaeda to include the aggressive and sexual interrogation of prisoners in Iraq, or even mention Riggs Bank and its relationship to President Bush’s uncle Jonathan (an executive of Riggs Investment), the illusion of impartiality is diminished.

Riggs Bank is the infamous Washington DC establishment best know as the being where Saudi Princess Haifa Al-Faisal, wife of Saudi Ambassador Prince Bandar allegedly sent nearly a half million dollars to the saudi “student” Omar al-Bayoumi who then gave some of the money to Khalid al-Mihdhar and Nawaf al-Hazmi.

Khalid al-Mihdhar and Nawaf al-Hazmi, pictured, of course are two of the nineteen 9/11 hijackers, 15 of whom were Saudi, like osama bin ladin.

The ties between the bush family and the prince and princess go far beyond banking, which might be one reason why the President censored 28 pages of a 9/11 congressional report that dealt with the Saudi’s role in the terrorist attacks.

“My judgment is 95 percent of that information could be declassified, become uncensored so the American people would know,” Sen. Richard Shelby (R-Ala.), former vice chairman of the Senate Intelligence Committee, said last July on “Meet the Press”.

Shelby who said that he had read all 28 pages that had been redacted, speculated that the reason that the Bush Administration is keeping those pages from the American public is because of politics.

“I think it might be embarrassing to international relations,” he said.

So is the Instapundit also concerned about embarrasing international relations between the USA and Saudi Arabia? is that why he refuses to even blog the words “Riggs Bank” who was fined last month for doing things like not even mentioning approximately $30 million in transactions between the Saudis and “charities” that they donate to, some who have members of al-queda on their board.

I would think that any serious political blogger would be interested in this, which might be the juiciest political story of the year. The uncle of the president, Jonathan Bush, who is the brother of the former president, turning the other way so that the saudi crown can fund the terrorists behind 9/11?

wouldnt that make Jonathan Bush the biggest traitor since benedict arnold?

i know uncle bush probably didnt physically do anything, but he turned his back so that those attrocities could happen.

and isnt that just as bad?

and isnt anyone who turns their backs on attrocities specifically surrounding 9/11 a traitor in these, the days of the Patriot Act?

i wouldnt know. i just get 1,000 hits a day.

but if i had the luxury of 15 times that, i think i would want to use my superpowers to continue the discussions that are nearest and dearest to america’s heart.

like little things like 9/11 and those who were part of the problem.

even if it means, for example, including the president and his uncle, and the bank that was central to letting it happen.

verbungle + doc searls + jim gilliam

sharp-eyed reader rick rock

was correct in noticing that the paper of record didnt mention my age in today’s article on bloggers.

did they ask me my age? yes.

did they ask several times over several phone calls? yes.

did i ever give them my actual age? hell no.

if i havent told you, my dear readers, why would i tell strangers just because theyre being persistant?

i dont give my age on the blog for lots of reasons, and I told the NY Times, who i respect and admire.

the first being that age is rarely relevant in any discussion that doesnt have to do with statutory rape, bilking social security, or underage drinking.

but mostly i am interested in having my stories and my writings judged solely on the tales and the storytelling.

age only allows for generalizations and discriminations that arent necessarilly the truth. when i say that im 110 years old, im saying that im old. isnt that enough?

we live in a time where youth is foolishly glamourized and idealized and allowed special treatment despite the fact that even though some kids are incredible, most are dumbassed twits who look good in miniskirts because they’re, well, young.

for example, if youre a marginal singer and youre 16 years old, you can be the runner-up for American Idol. but if youre a dynamite singer and over 25 you cant even audition. thats fucked up, particuliarly because i just saw Prince, who is no longer a teenager, kick everyones ass, of any age, several times over.

why cant the media figure out a way to get him in front of 50 million tv viewers?

because the media has a hardon for the “next big thing” and they turn their backs on established stars the minute they drop out of the top 40.

the media’s obsession with youth is no different than other forms of agism that i have to battle on the daily.

for example, if a young woman wants to make out with a 110 year old blogger suddenly everyone claims that shes being taken advantage of, and the blogger is branded as some sexcrazed cradlerobber– even if the dirty old man is far cooler and takes better care of her than some pimplefaced freak with a slipknot tshirt, herpes, and a permanant boner.

my stupid age in relation to a fluff peice about obsessive blogging has absolutely nothing to do with the story, and the exclusion of my age subracted zero from the tale being spun.

the habit that the NYT and other papers and magazines have of including ages in the descriptions of their subjects is lazy journalism that distorts the story in more cases than adding to them.

who cares that “joe schmoe, 57, owner of Local Icecream Shop” who got robbed tuesday is 57 years old? it’s only useful information if joe was 157 or 15, because then it would possibly be the cause of the robbery. and thats why i call the blanket use of ages lazy journalism.

i have great respect for the new york times. but not everything they do is perfect.

i dont have a girlfriend. i never said to the reporter that i had a girlfriend. i told a perfect antedote about how my obsessive blogging lead to strife with a girl who had spent the night at my house.

i said that she heard me wake up at 6am, and asked me to wake her up at 7:30am so we could be on time for work.

what happened was i blogged until 8:10am and woke her up after i was done and that led us to being late which re-started a long going little arguement that she has with me that i should spend the night more often at her house, so that we wouldnt be so late in the mornings.

but because i dont like her setup as it irritates the carpel tunnel that i fight with BECAUSE of my obsessive blogging, and because i dont like using iMacs, oftentimes she spends the night at my house.

but in this world where writers want everything to fit in a perfect box of “girlfriends” “age 111” and “scheduler” you miss out on the fine details of human experience, and in this case, in an interesting tale.

for the record i didnt even bother to tell them that i was an undercover agent in the xbi and i told them the one lie that i tell all reporters, that i am a scheduler for a large entertainment company.

to which they say cool and go back to trying to get me to reveal my age.

which matters less than where i work and what astrological sign i am.

and yes, this might be the last interview that i grant the press because these things never turn out the way i hope they will. which is “Fucking A: Tony Pierce the Man!”

but at least today my mom will be proud that her son is in a fancy ass paper for mostly good reasons.

and im very suprised and grateful that they linked me directly in their electronic version.

grateful because no i can invite the thousands of hits that they sent me to one of my all-time favorite “obsessive” bloggers, jay mccarthy, whose home burned down the other day and is now feeling gulity that his blog-reading is falling behind. thats the sort of guy he is.

jay’s site, makeoutcity.com, is the epitome of a good blogger who appreciates the blogs and spends a great amount of time reading and writing about the whole whateverthisis.


staples center
los angeles

dearly beloved,

if u ever want 2 get through this thing called life, make sure u go 2 a prince show at least once.

and if you go once, you’ll be back.

prince popped up through the center of his stage last night at the sold-out staples center dressed in white. pure of any sin. and the definition of sexy.

an x marked the spot on the center of the arena. his gold microphone awaited him. his 8 peice band including horn section featuring james brown’s legendary sax man maceo parker and blonde bombshell candy dulfer waited for him. and the screaming LA crowd who were amazingly on-time waited for him on this, the second night of an unprecidented five-night stand of los angeles’s premier concert and sports venue.

home of the lakers, the grammys, the kings, and last night, of prince.

he owned it. he rocked it. he was it.

as a witness of hundreds of concerts, ive seen the best: the stones, springsteen, u2, miles davis, the jackson 5, eric clapton, van halen, tom waits, elvis costello, tsar, jane’s addiction, and the beastie boys. but never have i seen one man seemingly never make a mistake, a wasted motion, or spin and twirl and pirrorette and be equal parts show-off and showman like that freaky little dude from minnesota.

and the fucker did it in heels.

he played his guitar like a kid would play a broomstick. it was an air guitar to him.

a total maestro he would throw his hand down and the drummer would accent the beat and stop.

a master controller he would tell the lighting man to bring up the lights and bring them down and the lights went up or down immediately.

when he grew tired of his guitar a well-dressed man would come out and take it from him and he pranced over to a couch on the stage and his keyboard player gave him a pillow for his feet and a blanket.

then he played bass. then he played bass with the bass player.

then he danced.

fuck did he dance.

all while throwing out classic r&b numbers like chinese stars, all written, produced, and performed by himself throughout the years.

upon entering the show the ushers handed out free copies of his new cd, musicology and one guy said to his buddy, “mick jagger never gave me anything for free.”

and as much as i love mick, mick never played the guitar or wrote these sorts of songs, alone, or this sexy, or with this much funk.

what we got to be a part of last night kept us on our feet dancing for over two hours, and when he concluded with an extended encore of the title track of his best known album, purple rain no one wanted to leave.

except for the yuppies who wanted to somehow “beat” traffic. which, sadly was half the arena.

but whatever, prince had pummelled them. he had pummelled all of us.

if elvis had actually known a thing about showmanship and songwriting and guitar playing and dancing, the king would have been prince.

in my 110 years, this was the best arena concert ive ever seen.

i smiled the entire time.

anti + simpleton + xero 79