i know how worried you get when you havent heard from me and then see that my blog isnt updated.

but rest assured that if you call and im not home and if you see that i havent written on here that everything is probably ok. probably.

my home computer is still broken so unless i go to chris’s house this weekend this will be the last post till monday, so i figured you’d like a picture of your favorite granddaughter and your favorite son.

things are well out here. it’s warm and sunny. the leaves are just about ready to change. the old lady upstairs sends her regards.

this week karisa and i saw the beastie boys at the universal amphitheater. in a very funny moment i told her that i remembered that we had gone to see eminem and a few tsar shows, but what other concerts had we seen together?

she was all, well, tony,

we flew to san francisco to see U2, we saw kid rock at the universal, we saw zwan at the wiltern, santana at the hollywood bowl, weezer at the long beach arena, the gorilaz at the hollywood paladium, dave pirner at the troubador, beck at the santa barbara bowl, janes addiction at the sb bowl, juliette lewis and the licks at the sunset junction

and then she listed a few more.

i think the smog is getting to me.

karisa has a new roommate, im sure you will be happy to learn. this young lady is a former mormon who rides a motorcycle and works at the hard rock at the universal city walk.

she’s very nice, even if she is a republican. we let that little tidbit slide even though i first met her the night that gw gave his acceptance speech and i was making hella mean comments about him right before her roommate opened the front door.

last week chris and i went to see Hero. i think you would like it. you saw Hidden Dragon Something Tiger. it’s like that, but even better. very beautiful. don’t rent it, see it at the theatre.

chris just got Directv… finally. so on sunday i might be over at her house watching the Bears. they really stink. how are people putting up with that team in chicago? maybe theyre too distracted by the cubs.

theres a very good chance that the cubs will play the dodgers in the playoffs. i hope to see them play here if thats the case. im dumb though and forgot to figure out how to get tickets. jeff from tsar says that getting tix wont be a problem. i didnt ask him what he meant by that.

as you suggested i sent out my resume to some of my favorite companies. it was really scary. but good news: someone super cool wrote me back already and i get to meet with them in a few weeks.

i did this cuz i know how much you dont want me flying chopper one any more.

hope all is well.

i love you very much,

tony

hole in my head + satan’s luau + science blog

someone in my comments said that he liked it better when i told the truth in this blog.

i can understand that request. but if i wasnt allowed to lie in here i would never have been able to die, like i did in december of 2002…

me and kurt cobain were still in death valley in some sort of pre-heaven state. i had just had sex with twelve beautiful women, played some of my favorite pinball machines, and had a variety of alcoholic beverages. not bad for a guy who was dead.

super pretty woman wearing a veil was standing in a corner. men and women walked up to her and kissed her. some super long kisses, some just little pecks. some of the women would giggle after they were done kissing. but everyone seemed happy, most of all the woman in the veil.

whats up with her? i asked kurt

she likes to kiss.

everyone likes to kiss.

so go kiss her.

but what about germs?

aint no germs here.

what about, hmmm, what about… morals.

whats morally wrong with kissing? its a nice thing.

yeah, but i dont even know her.

so go talk to her if you want, but she’d rather kiss. in fact she likes it better when you dont talk to her. gives her more of a thrill.

wow, im tempted.

let me ask you something, have you ever flipped off someone while driving on the road, or flamed someone in an email, or shouted at an umpire at a ball game, or wrote a mean letter to a newspaper writer?

of course.

well, those are strangers. you dont know them. and you go and do mean things to them and try to hurt their feelings. dont you think thats morally bad?

but they were mean to me first!

so be nice to her… first.

still i was unsure. hesitant. it seemed too good to be true.

kurt could read my mind. he said,

if you cant handle free kisses next to a salsa bar, how are you going to handle the unlimited love of the creator?

fucker raised a good point.

unless, of course you’d rather kiss him.

kurt pointed at a bearded man standing in a different corner who winked at me.

uh, no thanks.

whats wrong, havent you ever kissed a guy?

i hesitated.

i’d like to take the fifth, kurt cobain.

oh my god, i just realized, you havent taken your Shame Shower yet. those girls didnt give you a shower after your romp?

no, they just all fell asleep in a cute little heap.

go to that great glass elevator over there. go to the fourth floor. then come back down here. i’ll wait for ya.

so i walked over to the elevator. there were many buttons. i pressed four, the doors parted, there was steam everywhere, a woman approached me, bowed, she held out a basket and asked me to disrobe.

i looked around, took the basket, walked into the changing room and put my clothes in the basket, borrowed a white robe and slippers and floated back over to the woman who lead me into a very tall steam room. must have been ten stories tall.

please take your robe off

the voice was pleasant.

suddenly dozens of little baby cherubs could be heard giggling. they were far above me. little tiny cute bellies. completely naked. fat little cheeks, fat little arms, tiny little pee-pees and they began to urinate on me.

it wasnt real pee, ladies. it was baby pee. baby angel shame shower pee. smelled like roses. it was freakilly warm though. it shoulda been called the Trust Shower but i had just banged a dozen women and totally chilled with kurt cobain, so i went with it.

those little kids peed on me for a while and when they were done they flew away and the woman re-introduced herself and had two baskets. one basket had my old clothes, the other had a sweet puma sweat suit. dark green. some gold rope chains, and a pair of pearl white suede pumas with fat laces. there was also a diamond sparkling pimp cane.

i chose the basket with my old clothes.

the woman kissed my cheek and said, “live a little,” which was ironic since i was, well, dead.

so i put down the basket of my old clothes and put on the new suit, and strangely, this time, i changed right in front of her. without even thinking.

and when i was done, i gave her a big wet kiss.

and she gave me one right back.

emmanuelle + fimoculous + wonkette + bored housewife

i know that yesterday and the day before was rosh hashanah, maybe today is too, but i was too busy at work to ask what that holiday is all about.

but i do know that whenever theres a jewish holiday here in holiday you are instantly aware how many jewish neighbors we have, because the streets and the busses and the subways are empty.

empty i tell you, and it’s nice.

for example, usually madonna (pictured) is at the hollywood and vine subway station doing yoga poses against the coke machine while waiting for the train, but during this holiday apparently she is in temple.

i think these holidays are nice. i think all spiritual holidays are nice as long as they remain peaceful. and i think all of us commuters in LA are happy whenever the roads are clear, for any reason.

so in honor of my friends of the jewish faith, especially my buddy jeff solomon and dan kern in tsar, i give you adam sandler’s “Chanukah Song Pt 2”,

for no other reason than he doesnt have a Rosh Hashanah song.

yet.

Put on your Yamaka

Its time for Chanukah

So much funnaka

To celebrate Chanukah

Chanukah is the festival of lights

Instead of one day of presents

We get eight crazy nights

When you feel like the only kid in town

Without a Christmas tree

Here’s a new list of people who are Jewish

Just like you and me

Winona Ryder,

Drinks Manischewitz wine

Then spins a Dreidle with Ralph Lauren and Calvin Klein

Guess who gives and receives

Loads of Chanukah toys

The girls from Veruca Salt and all three Beastie Boys

Lenny Kravitz is half Jewish,

Courtney Love is half too

Put them together

What a funky bad ass Jew

We got Harvey Keitel

And flash dancer Jennifer Beals

Yasmine Bleeth from Baywatch is Jewish

And yes her boobs are real

Put on that yarmulka

Its time for Chanukah

2 time Ocsar winning Dustin Hoffmanaka

celebrates Chanukah

O.J. Simpson

Still not a Jew

But guess who is,

The guy who does the voice for Scooby Doo

Bob Dylan was born a Jew

Then he wasn’t

but now he’s back,

Mary Tyler Moore’s husband is Jewish

‘Cause we’re pretty good in the sack.

Guess who got bar-mitzvahed

On the PGA tour

No I’m not talking about Tiger Woods

I’m talkin’ about Mr. Happy Gilmore.

So many Jews are in the show biz

Bruce Springsteen isn’t Jewish

But my mother thinks he is.

Tell the world-amanaka

It’s time to celebrate Chanukah

It’s not pronounced Ch-nakah

The C is silent in Chanukah

So read your hooked on phonica

Get drunk in Tijuanaka

If you really really wannaka

Have a happy happy happy happy Chanukah!

tonight 9/17

aretha franklin, greek

a tribe called quest, vault 350

face to face, house of blues

fishbone, blue cafe

the red elvises, rusty’s surf ranch

pillow fight, club lingerie

tomorrow 9/18

morrissey + franz ferdinand + tears for fears + x + billy idol + devo + missing persons, hyundai pavilion

chuck berry + ike turner, doheny state beach

peter case, mccabes

supersuckers, roxy

seal + macy gray, the pond

rick springfield + berlin, universal

sunday 9/19

yes, universal

ryan adams, wiltern

chicago, santa barbara bowl

chick corea, catalina bar & grill

t.s.o.l., malibu inn

monday 9/20

mere mortals, silverlake lounge

tuesday 9/21

the datsuns, troubador

john wait, borders westwood

the 5678’s, spaceland

michael penn, largo

wednesday 9/22

pixies + distillers, greek

the thrills, amoemba (free)

siouxsie sue, house of blues

anti-flag, henry fonda

thursday 9/23

the pixies, the greek

jordan knight, roxy

siouxsie sue, house of blues

sarah silverman, el portal

friday 9/24

ministry, house of blues

circle jerks + gbh, henry fonda

cheap trick, vailt 350

how weird is that?

never have i ever said that they are my favorite band. not that i dont respect them. of course i do. i love them. love.

i saw the ramones play one time. in a little place in isla vista called the Anaconda which is now a small lecture hall at ucsb.

they had their jackets and black pants and striped shirts and they kept their legs apart and joey sang at us through his hair and sunglasses and ripped through 40 songs in an hour.

one two three four

attack.

theres a deeper level to the songs. theres also a sweetness. but live there was a power that i didnt expect from the old guys.

last night founding member Johnny Ramone died after fighting prostrate cancer. he was the lead guitar player of a band not at all known for any guitar solos.

are there any guitar solos in ramones songs?

21 albums and i cant remember one solo. but it’s cool.

without the ramones you wouldnt have the donnas. without the ramones you wouldnt have U2 bono tells us, but we all know he lies. without the ramones you wouldnt have the thousand garage bands that turned into your favorite bands.

the ramones taught us that you could keep it simple, that you didnt have to be pretty, that you didnt have to be the best singer, drummer, or lead guitarist.

they taught us that what mattered was the band.

they kept it real through and through and for that reason i keep them playing in my iPod and boombox and up here in chopper one.

and cuz their music is classic.

they will be missed.

moxie + baddaboom + jim gilliam + rusty

there were two paths you could have taken and you took the jessica simpson off-ramp.

i dont know why i had higher hopes for you but i did.

i dont know why i expected you to see the comedy in femme-ing and whoring of snaggletoothed Jewel which you are obviously mimicking, but you missed the point.

the promise of a snarling canadian teengirl who shops exclusively at hot topic is that you imagine that with age she would evolve into something else than just another same-old pop chick off the assembly line of same-old pop chicks.

even though your first album was pretty much nothing more than top 40 pop chick syrup, you had a style and an attitude that gave this blogger hope for an edge that is oh so needed in this prozac nation.

believe it or not, we do not need avril lavigne in an oktoberfest-meets-cheap-trick dress, a matching guitar and blonde extentions.

believe it or not we need a return to the rock.

thank you for selling out teenage girls everywhere because now i can rest assured that my curling iron stocks will be fine.

oh avril.

look what theyve done to you.

little girl who once sat indian-style on a sink doing her own makeup before her gigs, flipping off the papparizzi, and shamelessly getting hammered with the classy dames of hollywood like ozzys daughter.

remember when you would go club hopping on sunset making out with pretty girls on the dancefloor, spitting at the cameras of celebrities uncensored, and giving the world a different idea of the girl who sang about skaterboys.

i knew the jig was up when you not only agreed to appear on the now-defunct ryan seacrest show, but when asked by the prettyboy if you prefered britney or christina you raised your fist and yelled BRITNEY to the approving squeals of the barely-teen young ladies in the crowd.

put your tie back on, take off that ridiculous dress, and yank those extensions out of your beautiful hair.

your country has yet finished working off the fine of giving the world celine dion, don’t you start with this bullshit.

they gave celine 5 years in rehab at caesars in vegas, keep this up and im going to make you open for kittie so that you can learn first hand what rock is about.

for it’s rock that is inside of you miss lavigne, not sugar and spice and everything nice.

please go back to mispronouncing david bowie’s name, and giving a look of whatevah when corrected.

when ashlee simpson is more punk rock than you someone has led you astray.

fire that motherfucker and come to the light, avril, come to the light.

a weekend with raymi is what you need + sk smith + rabbit blog

a guy with a fake name and no email address or web page says that he likes your writing better when you tell the truth more.

the irony is overwhelming.

welch and layne are masters of the fine art of writing. i am but a second stringer. a wannabe.

for example, no one is inviting my black ass to any of these conventions in order to blog all about it like they did with my boy welch.

and grizzly adams layne came back from a near-year-long haitus and is already averaging twice my hits.

and amy… shit, amy can write for the new york times at a snap of her fingers. not only dont i have that sort of clout but i wouldnt know what to write if they gave me such a opportunity.

plus my loyal readers couldnt handle the truth.

truth is ive been blogging from new york city today on assignment to review the new Bestsey Johnson line with karisa for a journal to be named later.

betsey is karisa’s favorite designer, fyi, and looks perfect in any of her designs, double fyi

every season betsey has a unique theme where she plays off some of her favorite passions over the years.

this season she gives us back the ruffles, especially in the skirts and dresses.

nothing says fun more than a big poofy skirt, karisa and i agreed. and if you think about it nothing sounds hotter than making out with a cute girl overflowing in taffeta on a leather couch in the wee hours when every sound is magnified

be it a whisper

or a giggle

or the shhhh shhhhh shhhh of a petticoat being dug through.

betsey is what 90 now and still the hippest cat in the house. totally unafraid to go down the road less traveled. completely willing to go back in time in order to move forward. lots like superman I when bro flew fast to spin the earth backwards.

karisa just kicked me for that one.

anyway our spaceship is about to take off and im going to be a total olde man and take a nap so that im ready for the Tsar show tonight at 11pm at king king.

see you there!

jarret house north + blogging la tells us about the lobster fest this weekend + joz joz joz

at king king on hollywood blvd. neither karisa or i know what time the gig is. the king king web site isnt mentioning it, neither is the answering machine.

id call whalen but im up in chopper one right now dictating this to my beautiful intern who tells me that she found a humorous photo from new orleans.

we had some technical difficulties with my helicopter a few minutes ago and it looked like i was about to part ways with this mortal coil. if that were to happen just know that i have always loved you, and please sprinkle my remains in the ivy of wrigley field if i burn up in a terrible fire or bury me beneath the cliffs of del playa if theres anything left of me.

i hear people pray all the time on our internal communciations devices. because we employ agents from all over the world you end up hearing some pretty strange prayers. my translators tell me that everything is usually directed to a “god” of some sort and everyone wants their family taken care of.

i just want the cubs to win sometime soon.

last night they won in extra innings. barely beating the lowly pittsburgh pirates. but a win is a win and i would rather them barely win than barely lose.

the bostonians write me and ask how im loving Nomah, who of course is injured currently and i’m happy that theyre gloating because we will see them in rocktober and i bet ya nomah will hobble to the plate in fenway and deliver some magical moments that we very well might be talking about for years to come.

so dont be so cocky my friends on the other coast

yet.

i was watching dusty baker manage last night, and may i add that i love my Tivo, and i saw him yelling at a guy who im pretty sure only speaks spanish, and i was thinking is dusty yelling at him en espanol or does it even matter. oh to be on the bench of a major leauge baseball team during a pennant race if only just to listen.

oh to be at wrigley for this month.

oh to be anywhere than in this chilly cockpit.

im reading steinbeck’s “travels with charley”. its so fucked up that they give adult books to kids and kids books to slow kids. i never liked steinbeck in college but im appreciating him more as a senior citizen. his gentle style doesnt bore me any longer. travels with charley is a non-fiction account of a 58 year-old Steinbeck driving across and around america with his small dog.

I saw in (my neighbors’s) eyes something I was to see over and over in every part of the nation– a burning desire to go, to move, to get under way, anyplace, away from any Here. They spoke quitely of how they wanted to go someday, to move about, free and unanchored, not toward something but away from something. I saw this lookk and heard this yearning everywhere in every state I visited. Nearly every American hungers to move.

then he wrote about a young boy who asked to go with him. A boy who promised to do the dishes, to do everything:

Unfortunately for me I knew his longing “I wish I could,” I said. “But the school board and your parents and lots of others say I can’t.”

“I’ll do anything,” he said. And I believe he would. I don’t think he ever gave up until I drove away without him. He had the dream I’ve had all my life, and there is no cure. (p.11)

hopefully we will read later that the cure is in the adventure itself.

rollerskate skinny + weapons of mass destruction + low culture

dear kids of afghanistan

interviewed me last night for their year end double issue.

here’s some of our conversation:

BW: Do you consider yourself a good writer or a great writer?

tp: i consider myself a decent diarist. i can write a good sentence every now and then. on average i will say that i will end up writing more good sentences than some. string several good sentences together in the same story and that’s what makes you a good writer. string several good stories together over a series of years and you are a great writer.

therefore i am not a great writer, but my friends matt, ken, and amy are.

BW: Why are you so modest?

tp: i’m not modest i’m realistic. im better than anyone at photo essays for example.

BW: Would you disagree with us, when, over the years, we have recognized you for being a great writer?

tp: of course.

BW: If you wouldn’t consider yourself a great writer, what would you say that you’re great at?

tp: i’ve found myself in the company of virgins more than i expected. i never want to be with one again, but i would say that i was pretty good in those situations.

BW: Really? How so?

tp: i’m patient. i like making little jokes. i have good music. i have a large supply of booze. i remember how nervous i was when i was untouched and i appreciated how much my girlfriend and i laughed that night in that honda in ventura. but hopefully i have been with my last virgin.

BW: The blogosphere continues to grow and yet the hits at the busblog have increased with each year. Explain your success.

tp: all i can figure out is people are very bored and they become less bored when they come to my blog. maybe it’s the pictures, maybe it’s the writing, maybe it’s the girls, i dont know why they come, and i really dont know why they come back. i’m just glad that they seem happy when they become regulars.

BW: You asked for an iPod this year and got one in a matter of days. What did you think of that experience?

tp: i thought it was a selfish request, i thought it was a successful experiment, i thought that next time i would like to raise money for a better cause (like for someone in need), but ultimately people don’t mind handing over a few bucks to someone that they enjoy reading.

BW: Have you enjoyed your iPod?

tp: very much so, yes.

BW: Did Apple really donate?

tp: yes. it was a pleasant suprise. but to be honest it was a college friend of mine who i didn’t realize read my blog who works at Apple. it’s a small world. fortunately i have a great network of friends and i burn very few bridges.

BW: How has your luck with the ladies been?

tp: truly amazing.

BW: Do you currently have a steady girlfriend? It’s hard to tell from your blog because you proclaim that nothing in there is true.

tp: i do not have a steady girlfriend. i have been out on some dates lately. hollywood is oozing in hot girls. it’s pretty easy to date here. plus most of the dudes out here are ridiculously lame. it’s a sellers market.

BW: Meaning?

tp: i’m not exactly sure what i meant by that other than if youre halfway decent and you can hold a conversation for more than an hour you can get laid here in LA. if you ask three hot chicks out during the week two of them will say yes and one of them will be worth it. these are good days to be a single man in hollywood.

BW: Do you have any preferences?

tp: i dont like to go out or dance. i dont mind bars if theyre dark and quiet. i dont mind concerts if theyre loud and violent. i like a girl who isnt afraid to push the limits. i like a girl who understands that kissing tells all. crazy girls are fine. republicans are fine. i like a girl who wants to spend the night, who isnt anchored down by her friends, who understands that life is short, and when you have a good thing you should hold on to it until it’s no longer good, no matter what it looks like.

BW: Where do you get your confidence?

tp: when i get it i will tell you.

BW: But you just said that you…

tp: i said it’s a numbers game. ask three out, two will say yes, one will be worth it. the second you start taking things personally while ruling out the science of it all and the mathmatics then you’ve shit your own bed. if you are on a bad date just know that the odds are in your favor that the next one will be good. so just enjoy your drink and tell her at the end of the date that you enjoyed her company but it wasnt a love connection.

BW: Don’t they get their feelings hurt?

tp: having your feelings hurt is a choice. most of the times either they totally agree or they want to prove you wrong.

BW: Do you really not have a car?

tp: i really don’t.

BW: Do you plan on having one soon?

tp: no.

BW: Do you consider yourself eccentric?

tp: you have to be rich for that.

BW: Crazy?

tp: if you saw how little i earn at my job, it would be crazy Not to ride the bus.

BW: Why don’t you get another job?

tp: most people don’t know that i started this blog the first day that i began working at the xbi. the only reason you’re interviewing me is because of my blog. for all the anxiety that getting shot at causes, it also helps me write. i have never written more than these years at the xbi.

remember what i told you about not stopping a good thing as long as it’s good? working at the xbi has inspired me to write every day. i have never had more success in my writing than these last three years. i may not like what i do, but i like what that struggle has created. in some cases the ends to justify the means. im not saying that once i leave the xbi that the busblog will suddenly suck, but it hasnt sucked as long as i have had this thankless job, so yes, in the name of art i stay here even if it doesnt help me financially or career-wise or anything.

i would love to have a better gig, but right now i will settle with having a blog that i can feel good about putting my name on.

ontario empoblog + mass live + kitty bukkake