people ask me all the time

how i deal with the negative emails and comments that i get on here.

easy. i dont give a shit.

ive never given a shit. but that might be because ever since i was in school there was always an asswipe in the hall or a teacher at the chalk board or someone who wasnt shy about saying, tony you suck.

then along came the internet and complete strangers were given free reign to tell me that i sucked, but i was allowed to dish it right back.

truth is, at many things i do suck. ask anyone.

but as far as writing and blogging and thinking goes, all their opinions dont mean shit. it’s all subjective. it’s all so much bullshit. zeroes and ones. pixels and whatnot.

and guess what, if you call a huge chunk of america dumbfuck inbred fear-loving faggot-haters you might get a few emails.

democrats, which i am often categorized as being, have a hard time breaking out of the PC world that they created for themselves.

i dont have such hangups.

if i see a retard as president of the united states i think it’s disingenious not to stand up and say, does everyone see the same tard that i see?

plus i believe in the idealism that some people might need to read it somewhere else first before they feel comfortable to say, “yeah, that motherfucker IS a retard!”

no matter how many hits you get, always pretend that youre not getting any. always pretend that this online journal is offline. write the way youd write if this was your three ring binder in highschool.

if that doesnt help you write more honestly, think about the fact that a guy stood up the other day and said “unwed mothers and homosexuals shouldnt even be teachers!” and not only did that guy live to see another day, but he is south carolinas newest senator.

o’reilly has no problem speaking his mind, neither does rush. sure we look at them and laugh, but they laugh all the way to the bank.

ultimately i look at blogging the same way the editors of the la times look at it: as a joke, as a hobby, as this generations cb radio. and like all those communiques back in the 70s, theyre all dust in the wind good buddy.

so ask yourself the next time you censor yourself on your blog, if you cant keep it real on the web, where can you?

and then type whatever the fuck you wanna type, select all, copy, and click publish.

and then fuggetaboutit

azarock + megastir + britcoal

live aid, the dvd

i remember live aid perfectly. i woke up early, i had my vcr going for the audio/video. i had my radio shack cassette deck next to the radio taping my boom box needs, i was set.

some of my favorite bands played: u2, the stones, zeppelin, queen, bowie, elvis costello, the boomtown rats.

it was the 80s though and im very nervous how all of pinks and teals and bright blues will look on dvd which was released today in the UK and next week here across the pond.

four discs they promise us. 10 hours of the best from the pop world of 20 years ago.

it could suck, but remember one thing: it was all for charity and we might not have fed the world, but we fed some of it for a little while, proving that pop stars might not be that influencial in politics, but their hearts are usually in the right place.

even so, it didnt do so badly. of the 1.4 billion viewers, the bob geldof production managed to raise $140 million to help fight the famine in ethiopia.

20 years ago, kids, $140 million meant something.

one would think that the release of the $40 dvd could reap closer to $200 mil, if not more.

i fondly recall an impassioned performance by U2 and an amazing Queen set.

the zep reunion was drunken and bloated and forgetable

as was the fact that phil collins played in the UK and was flown to the US to also play.

however the duet of mick jagger and tina turner was pure 80s, as was madonnas outfit.

if it wasnt for charity i might pass to sheild my mind from such (at times) painful memories, but there might be something to learn from all of this.

1. george michael in small doses is fine, in large doses, ridiculous

2. phil collins has always sucked

3. we’re not the world

Update: the Led Zep footage will not be on the Live Aid dvd

raymi + fake curtis + captain scurvy + danielle

a blast from the past

Tuesday, September 17, 2002

i was checking out last night’s conan on comedy central while eating my chinese leftovers at my desk for lunch when my boss’s boss, this super dooper hot black woman who looks like a young whitney crossed with a younger vanessa williams, tapped me on the shoulder.

sonny, come with me. she ordered.

trailed her as she made her way to the elevators. everyone knows her. looked like everyone had some business with her.

“we never got that approval from IT,” someone shouted at her.

“tell em to call Phil.” she’d yell back.

“the houston guy says that he doesnt want to do it for under a thousand,” some complete babe smiled at her.

“tell him it’s three hundred or we’ll get it from mexico.”

i loved this woman. and she did it in heels!

we got on the elevator, she put her key in, turned it and pressed a button that ive pressed before. B2. second basement. property room. otherwise known as the evidence room. at the xbi we dont really have “evidence,” we dont really go to court as xbi agents. we just have stuff that we’ve collected over the years that we use to get either more stuff or people or use as bribes or blackmail, extortion, etc.

ding. door opened. she smiled at the two guys who opened the door for her. that led down a little hall with a thick door and a tiny window. we could hear a phone ring in there. then the door opened. two more guys opened the door and had us each sign a sheet that hadnt been signed in two days. names id never seen before. when i handed back the pen, i was given a pair of rubber gloves and i snickered.

“one joke, sonny, and these two gentlemen will hold you as i pummel you,” she said. thats when they snickered.

i thought to myself, “you dont have to have them hold me down, baby.”

“i heard that,” she said. and tapped her esp earpiece.

creeped out, i started humming “hot in herrre.” by nelly, bitch.

stepped into one of the many evidence rooms. was instructed not to touch anything, a beanie with a propellor on the top cuaght my eye and i put it on as i followed her down the aisle.

she turned around and i prentended everything was fine.

“take that off immediately, agent.” she said.

“take what off?”

“thats a Lying Hat.” she warned.

“then it’s worthless cuz ive never told a lie in my life.” i said.

and the propellor started to spin and a tiny toy monkey appeared from within the propellor’s center, did a little jig, and just as quickly, retreated back into the cap.

“im here to ask you your advice on this new item,” she said. i kept the cap on. i wanted her to love me.

“this,” she said, “is 2-minute Acid.”


“yes.” she said. “it works for two minutes and wears off.”

“i dont think theres any use for that.” i said.

my propellor spun and the monkey appeared and began breakdancing, finished with a headspin and sunk back into the cap.

“you’re going to wear out the batteries.” she said.

i took off the cap and she said, “no, no, no. leave it on. you look cute in it.”

so i left it on.

tim blair + mindy + kaye + tyranny

there used to be a time

pussycat theater on sunset

when i didnt come into the xbi on monday mornings and think why why why why, and to be honest i dont remember much of those days.

the job i had before this one fired me and rehired me hours later and put me on the 6am shift and there werent any mondays where i would think why why why why even when things started to get crappy even when all the people i hired started to slowly get laid off one after another after another.

the dot com implosion effected me way more than any breakup with any girlfriend. maybe its because i have had very few high paying jobs where my boss totally understood me and got it and loved it and wanted me to be me.

i know the sun will come out tomorrow annie but tomorrow and tomorrow and tommorrow bleeds into the petty pace of macy gray, blogged by a dumbshit full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

someone from somewhere sent me a pre-release of Eminem’s upcoming cd and i listened to it all weekend.

its amazing and disgusting and juvenile and brilliant. i dont know why but it’s uncomfortable dealing with the fact that todays best rapper is a wigger. race aside, eminem raps circles around everyone and anyone. and hes funny. and hes fast. and hes constantly trying new things.

he and dre are a perfect pair. so perfect its freaky.

this sunday three very odd things happened. are the planets all fucked up? anna kournikova came over with a bundt cake(!) on sunday afternoon between the raiders winning and the bears winning. i was all whats the occassion and she went on to explain that she went to the grove and wandered into a home store and saw a bundt cake pan and decided she wanted to make some bundt cakes.

so we sat there drinking cheap champagne and eating her bundt cake while my two favorite teams won games that they werent supposed to win.

very odd.

everythings odd.

the busblog hits were better this weekend than any other weekend this year.

was sex saturday the reason why people came here this weekend?

who knows, but maybe next weekend we can continue the increase.

pink shoes + lisa + sk smith