what do you say? here in LA this shit happens all the time, its just very odd for it to happen to me.

truly there are dozens of shows being taped all over this town.

but today in a studio about four blocks from the front door of my true love the cameras were aimed at me and everything that i said got shot around the entire world.

50 million people they tell me.

and theres so much i forgot to say cuz it went speeding by soooo quickly.

i wanted to say

hi

i wanted to say

merry christmas

i wanted to say

anyone can succeed at blogging with a little practice

i wanted to say

i love you

i wanted to say

it’s ok.

god was i nervous today. i was nervous all day. but it was a good nervous.

i told the lovely producer named cat that i dont experiment with the things that they poisoned me with in college any more,

not because i have anything against it but because theres bigger highs out there now, ones that make you see trippy things or feel weird feelings

but in the morn you dont have to recover for a whole day.

or be paranoid that the cops are going to crash through the window.

i was late for the chauffered ford expedition, i was burning a tsar cd for cat, i was trying to find my ipod headphones

but i didnt need them because me and the driver became instant friends and we talked all the way there through not so bad traffic

and we talked all the way home through really horrible rushhour traffic. fuck!

and nearly when i got home i asked him if it would be cool if we went through the drive through and he said sure and i had realized that i hadnt eaten all day except for a little nibble of a rice krispies treat in the green room

and i gorged that mc rib and thought about getting makeup applied on my swill mug and bald head

and i thought about meeting the kool kids from the tv station

and i thought about how amazingly comfortable i felt in front of the cameras

so much so that i didnt even notice them. i just talked to kevin and blazed through his questions and didnt shake and didnt stutter and didnt stammer and didnt do a lot of the things that i do in regular life

for some reason the addrenalin and the butterflies took over and blocked the demons who were so shocked that i was even there that they didnt stand a chance.

and there was a dude in the hallway that i met after the deal who said that he was the one who got me on the show and i want to thank him and apologize for not remembering his name but my mind was blown and if he emails me i will send him a book

because in a year where many many many cool things happened to me

this was the coolest.

and when i finally got home and sat down in front of the tv

and saw myself in that profile i smiled from ear to ear and said

shit, im getting fat.

i took this one so you could see what i saw + the set + the bit torrent + thanks to everyone, especially cat! + the web interview they conducted with me

this is the world famous busblog

you can scroll down for this week’s stuff or to the left is the archives

you can search for things here

you can find a lot of my photo essays here

and this is what i did with this site before blogging

and yes, currently i have a book and a hat for sale

i hope you enjoy your visit

(the rest of you can wish me luck) (i need it)

it looks like in a few months i just might have a new job.

it will allow me an outlet to be creative, it will enable me to do what i most like doing – helping others, and it’s somehow an even shorter commute than my current job in that it is a mere three subway stops from my hollywood bachelor pad.

but dude, im going to have to apply for the ever increasingly necessary job of telling you to shut the fuck up.

i dont care if karl malone put his fingers to his lips, looked at your woman and licked them with his big crazy tounge.

which he didnt do, by the way.

i dont care if karl malone lapdanced your beautiful wife while you were driving the lane.

which he also didnt do.

karl malone, because hes a semi-truck driving hick, was wearing cowboy boots and a cowboy hat (pictured) when your wife asked him what he was hunting for

and karl malone said, im hunting little mexican girls.

which we’re all hunting kobe

fyi.

and when she became outraged and when she called karls wife and when he called you allegedly he didnt deny it.

cuz hes a man.

who was kidding.

now if you remember, karl malone hasnt always said the smartest things. remember when he told the press once magic announced that he had HIV that he didnt want magic playing in the nba.

remember when karl became a laker how he wanted to unretire magic’s number?

yes he apologized for both of those instances, but kobe, between you and me, theres a reason hes wearing cowboy boots at a basketball game.

talking to your wife.

and if i was getting paid a small stipend thats when it would be time for you to call me

and you would have told me what transpired and i would have then said

ok kobe, now shut the fuck up.

and i would go back to my newly installed hot tub.

and because im so fucking good at my job, i would call your beautiful bride

the one you cheated on

and id say mrs. bryant, with all due respect im going to have to invite you to shut the fuck up too.

and if she gets indignant and starts yelling at me, then i will shut the fuck up.

and when the dust settles everyone will be kool and the gang.

but if you notice nothings kool and the gang right now kobe.

here are my terms: pay my cellphone bill, get me season floor seats near the laker girls, and an escalade. thats it. and you get to call me day or night.

maybe you’ll have to chip in for gas.

and i will probably listen and listen and at the end i will say uh huh now shut the fuck up.

every now and then i will add

idiot.

at no extra charge.

four o’clock + brit coal + futurballa + howard owens is back

im nowhere near falling asleep which is too bad because i have a lot to do tomorrow before the limo shows up to roll me to my doom.

miss montreal has been loaning me her car and tomorrow i promised to have it washed.

i also have to get a statement from the 92 year old woman saying that she rented me my apartment And the parking space. it looks like my landlord wants to take me to court over the matter. fun! im going to transcribe what she says and type it up and film her as i read it to her.

shes awesome but her fingers are so riddled with arthritius it’ll be interesting to see how she signs the thing. but that too will be on video.

and then i have some books to mail out. one gentleman sent along a real arrowhead with his check. thanks buddy!

there are so many things that i want to talk about on tv and one of them im afraid will be overlooked so i will write about it now.

many people claim that i am prolific. or they ask how i have so much time to write.

truth is i have very little time to write during the day, but there is a magical thing here in the United States called… well, i dont know what its called but by law your employer has to give you two (2) 15-minute breaks and one 30-minute lunch if you work eight hours.

a lot of us are stuck in front of computers all day. my suggestion is use those two 15-minute breaks to write something quick on your blog.

believe it or not but 15 minutes is plenty of time to write 6-7 paragraphs if you have your idea marinating as you prepare for your break.

and not only that, but ive noticed that when youre focused and you have a finite ending time, odds are you will actually get your post written. whereas many times if you have no end time your attention drifts off into just clicking around the web.

use your breaks, and when you do, why not put on a break hat? that way your boss knows that youre not to be disturbed cuz even though it might look like youre working, youre actually on your break blogging.

you say you dont have an official break hat?

todays your lucky day.

the newest addition to the busblog merch shop is the official break hat, just in time for Christmas.

and in keeping with the season, all profits of the official break hat will go to charity. (about $5 a hat.)

so right away your new hat will be performing miracles.

and with that good deed, now it’s time to hit the hay.

the official busblog break hat

not everyone gets to keep their bodies when they get sent to here.

tailgaters are sometimes turned into trees. the devil will make them just stand there for a couple hundred years. then maybe turned into a house. then torn down. never burned. that would be too cute. he’d waterlog the wood. warp it. then allow it to float down the river styx back home to be reassigned.

some get turned into bugs. some into animals. some into peoples pets. some get turned into dangerous animals. some get turned into fish.

i used to be afraid of fish and when i got down here and they showed me my file. apparently a long time ago i was sent to hell and then turned into a fish and had to swim around in the dark cold depths of the atlantic for a few dozen years.

a while back i was given a reprieve from whatever i was doing and reassigned as a lightskinned black american male born to a well educated middle class family and raised in the suburbs in the midwest.

later, it seems, the giver of grace was not very happy with what i did with those blessings.

so there i was banging some girl in hell’s sex palace and all of this was dawning on me: life is all context. perspective. compared to contracting stds nightly in the pits of pandemonium, flying chopper one across the skies of hollywood wasnt so bad.

and if i didnt like it, it wasnt like i was some old growth redwood, i could go do something else with my life. i could actually take control of my destiny as opposed to waiting on the universe to decide.

f the universe.

the universe is 2/3s lost souls doing what some guy more lost than them is telling them to do.

the good news was i was getting used to my demonic body. my thing wasnt falling off any more.

the crowd didnt flamethrow me as much any more. usually they waited until the end when i wasnt looking. then they all laughed and then applauded my incinerated smoking remains.

that night i went to bed and before i fell asleep i heard a still soft voice.

tony it said.

yes?

today is the last day of the year.

it is?

yes, do you know what that means down here?

no, i dont.

it means that you can be judged again.

it does?

yes, are you sorry for what you did to get here?

yes i am.

do you think youve learned some valueable things here?

oh yes. definately.

do you think youd make a better person if you were given another chance?

oh yes! yes i would!

and then i woke up.

still in hell.

it was just a dream.

and then my dirty rag of a pillow said.

nobody gets out of hell.

dumbass.

– pages 73-74 from How To Blog

the detox + jaime + shelley

of Jesusland during the birth of their so-called savior.

so-called because their savior seems to have something to do with red suits and trees and concepts like holidays.

last month we were pummelled with the idea that the morals of this country were being regained, that the Christian right had returned to take whats theres and lead this nation out of the hands of hedonistic hollywood and back where it belonged – the bosom of traditional family values.

everyone was all, dudes cant get married, we must preserve the sanctity of marriage, and my question to all of them who cockblocked loving americans who simply wanted the same rights as others is

where is the movement trying to defend the sanctity of Christmas?

i’ll tell you where it is, it’s nowhere, because the red-state Jesusland maybemajority is nothing but political hoo-ha created to keep minorities and gays down and republicans in office.

it has never been about Christianity or morals or the bible or spirituality.

there is as much hope of getting Christ back into Christmas as getting Jesus back into Jesusland: zip.

why? because republicans couldnt give a flying fuck about the bible or Christ or church or heaven or loving their neighbors, let alone loving their enemies.

therefore ho ho ho jethro merry christmas i mean happy holidays, what did you give me, this is what i gave you.

Jesusland allegedly re-elected their Christian brother even though there isn’t anything Christlike about this administration other than we thought it died after the last iraq invasion but alas it rose from the dead and now it feels like it will live forever.

where is the Jesusland outrage at the destruction of our messiah’s birthday? where are the complaints that the only tv special that i see coming up is National Geographic’s two hour deal based upon the unbiblical fantasy best seller The DiVinci Code that speculates that Jesus was married, had sex, and made babies.

seems to me if theyre pissed off about gays getting hitched, theyd certainly be a little hot under the collar about some yahoo saying that Jesus got hitched

but no, they sit there and they read the novel from cover to cover and they watch the tv show and wait for the movie.

happy festivus!

more egg nog?

fuck jesusland. fuck so called Christians who pretend to love God in the polling booth but let his name get X’ed out during the holidays and gangbanged by santa claus.

watch as they hide behind their children as they kick howard stern off the air and blur out tv shows and yet THEY are the ones who buy billions of dollars in toys and cards and decorations and trees and mistletoe and so-and-so that have nothing to do at all with the fact that two thousand years ago a Jewish couple slept in shit on a cold winter’s night and gave birth to God.

and when we say that the red states are ignorant godless sheep, tools of karl rove, hateful of their homosexual brothers and sisters, fearful of their suburbs being anything other than lillywhite havens for consumerism and palbum

xmas ’04 is xactly what we’re talking about.

if you want people to believe you when you say that youre proud of this being a Christian country then i dare you to take down your fucking tree youre fucking graven images of kringle and put the little baby jesus on your lawns where he belongs.

cuz right now he sure as shit aint in yr hearts.

Macy’s kills Christmas + FL church ad gets heat for saying Christmas + red/blue Christmas

is a big deal to me. it might be impossible to explain but who knows, it might not.

the general idea is to try to remain yourself and not a tool for someone and not a whore for something and not a victim to small-time greed.

simply put, remain yourself no matter what.

for example, when this thing all started nobody conceived of ads on blogs. blogs were simply devices to get chicks to send you dirty pictures. just because you can throw some filthy ad on your blog and make a few extra bucks doesnt mean that you really should.

im sure johnny rotten could get visa to pay him to wear their logo but i would feel differently about him if he did.

keeping it real also means to communicate in an honest way no matter what.

when nobody is paying you, when youre not anyones bitch, you can say anything.

you know why the instapundit never says anything bad about the republicans. cuz hes their bitch.

theres no other explaination for it.

you know youve sold out when you cant say exactly what you want to say on your own blog. people say that blogs dont have editors… the sellouts certainly have editors – their sponsors.

and its the worst sort of editors, the unspoken ones.

personally i dont ever want to be anyones bitch. maybe its because im black. maybe its because im a proud american. maybe its because freedom to me is everything.

and it might also be because money doesnt own me, i own money.

i have a fucked up job that pays me shit, but im good at it, and it allows me enough positive opportunities that it has been worth it. plus im solving crimes.

but the tradeoff is i cant afford a car.

fine, no car means that each month im not just squeaking by.

i would much rather not have a car than have ads and somehow be someones bitch.

i have one ad. that credit report ad. the dude paid me up front via paypal and all i had to put up was five words.

and whats ridiculous is those five words own me until march. in a bizarre way i have to have this blog up until then or i have to give back some of the money.

i hate that.

i might not ever have ads again because of that.

ultimately i dont ever want to get close to the temptation of any selling out because i want my readers to believe me when i say things. and when youre someones bitch you shouldnt be trusted and odds are youre not telling the whole story so fuck you.

this era that we’re living in is amazing in that we can reach hundreds of thousands of intelligent people all over the world.

given that opportunity and then squandering it on contrived bullshit would be a tragedy in my opinion.

and i will continue to do everything i can to avoid it

even if im misunderstood in the process.

here are some people who have kept it real: dylan, neil young, bukowski, johnny rotten, gg allin, spike lee, hunter thompson, bill murray, spike jones, the beastie boys, howard stern, sandy koufax, snoop dogg, eminem, prince, jd salinger, larry flynt, harry caray, angus and malcom young, william hung, simon cowell, jim rome, bill maher, emily dickinson, kurdt kobain, sonic youth, tom waits, the sopranos, al sharpton, rivers, tsar, lynda barry, raymi, danielle, karisa, and vincent gallo.

im an author + chokey chicken + gorilla mask + fc bearded

i was so busy + hungover that i only updated my blog once. im not apologizing, im just sayin.

all day i was busy. all fucking day. here it is one a.m. and im still busy. i still have work to do.

the producer of the screen savers said some very nice things about my book and she said how happy she was that im going to be a guest on the show on monday and i noticed how at first i really took her praise to heart for a good two seconds before i was all, she says that to all the girls, quit being so happy and proud n shit.

and right when i thought that she was like has anyone called you about car service. would you like transportation to our studio?

and it’s true, i dont have a car. and i have heard of shows providing either a limo or a town car or something along those lines to interviews. first of all to make sure that they get there on time but mostly to treat them as proper guests should be treated.

plus this is la and at any given stoplight a limo is rarely the most impressive vehicle and barely noticed at all.

the whole time i planned on taking the bus.

this is the busblog after all.

and i struggled with the idea, once again, of selling out.

what am i doing by taking a limo to a tv show? must. keep. it. real.

what would fugazi do

then we got distracted by all the legalities that i never realized must be cleared: the trademarked name on the tshirt that i proposed to wear, the cover of my book, etc. they must all have written permission from the right people.

once that was figured out i told the producer, you know what, fine, send a car over, it’ll make for funny pictures on the blog.

i know im supposed to be like how they want football players to be like, “dont get all crazy in the end zone when you make a touchdown, act like youve been there before,”

but i havent been there before. in fact how many non-political bloggers who were not journalists or actors or tech heads ended up on tv to hype their book about blogging? if i am indeed to keep it real, it’s ok to really laugh when a limo drives up my hill and picks my dumbass up. and yes i must take pictures and post them on my dumbass blog.

as well as pictures of the studio and the hair and makeup rooms and, well, everything.

doesnt being a blogger mean that you are afforded the right to be a picturetaking im-so-blogging-this-when-i-get-home nerd and therefore allowed to nerd out all over everyone?

i think it does.

and they said i could mention one site and it will be flagrant disregards and if she takes down her site out of shyness or flagrantness too bad cuz i have it all mirrored and we took a screen shot of it today anyway. so there.

and today i thought about my old boss who was a drunk and fired me at sears a week before i was to go to hawaii with jeanine (a firing that truly helped me get on with my life, one that ironically landed me a job of training his salespeople with a multibillion dollar electronics giant who would give me a company car, etc)

he said this of hangovers

when you dont have a hangover, as the day goes on you only feel worse,

but when you have a hangover as the day goes on you only feel better and better

and i deserved to be fired from sears because i would usually earn my $100 commission before lunch, go fishing on santa barbara pier, and call into work and ask if i could take the rest of the day off since id already earned all that i needed and the fish were really biting.

one day they said i could have all the rest of the days off.

on that day i caught a starfish.

tonight i drank wine with basart + welch + and emmanuelle

at the xbi christmas party. im hungover now. and i have to put together something for the Screen Savers so i have to make this short.

karisa called me at 5pm saying that she was feeling ill. so she went home and took a power nap and called me at 7pm and had rallied. shes the ultimate trooper.

she picked me up at 8:30p looking devistating in a little chinese girl outfit complete with long dangling earrings with tiny stars on the ends. gorgeous.

we got to the Hollywood Palladium where i had seen many beastie boys concerts, i saw the replacements there, i interviewed Rollins there before a Gwar show. id seen the chili peppers there, id seen, shit, so many shows. and there we were dancing like in olden times when sinatra would play.

full bar. free bar. great bar. lots of stations everywhere. loved it. the lines weren’t so bad.

then there was the food. i believe wolfgang puck catered. it wasnt bad.

the decorations were wonderful.

max factor were doing makeovers for people.

karisa and i danced and danced. that was nice.

earlier in the evening i was looking for proper shoes to wear. i wore a sweater and slacks and i wanted some dress shoes.

i literally turned my bed upside down looking for these shoes that i never wear.

i could not find the shoes and a little voice said

tony, if youre bringing a chick as hot as karisa you can wear any fucking shoes you want.

and that voice couldnt be more right.

even the transexuals on the dancefloor agreed.

and here i am hungover and happy.

thanks karisa for once again being a great date.

more pics

today

being that this is probably the only blog you’ll read today written by an african american let me say a few things about how i feel about kwanza, since its approaching and all.

fuck fucking kwanza.

motherfuckers.

kwanza.

our fucking dude was born and youre going to even for a second whip out some fucking bullshit kwanza nonsense.

motherfucking santa claus wasnt enough?

my bro ian drove me home today from work. we were going to the mountainside hollywood hills secret lair so usually we just go straight up wilton.

wilton north of beverly has some kickass homes. two million dollar ones. million dollar ones. big ones. bigger ones.

huge ones.

on some of the huge ones i saw some equally ginormous christmas decorations. i saw a blowup snowman that was at least a story tall and twenty feet wide.

i saw christmas lights the size of footballs.

and yes, i saw some giant images of santa claus.

of all the people in the world who should be saying, “man im glad you were born, my lord,” it should be them, the filthy rich.

but instead they celebrate the birth of their messiah with huge images of winnie the pooh wearing a fake white beard

like fucking fools

waiting by the mailboxes etc for their golden calves to arrive.

and then theres kwanza.

one thing black people can do well is praise jesus. we do it better than anyone in the world. the music we make when we do it might be the most magical of all music, the preachers we have might be the best there ever were, and the clothes we wear to church are the sharpest.

then on the flip side we have our brothers and sisters who are muslim, and watch them pray. they win at praying. they win at pilgrimiging. they win at letting their spirituality become a solid and regular part of their lives.

with those two options, theres no need for any damn kwanza. some watered down bullshit made up strip mall phony holiday so you can wear a koofi? fuck that shit. we need to focus up on the biggest birthday of the year. we dont need no stinkin kwanza getting in the way.

black folk, the racists want us to have kwanza. it makes us look ridiculous and lost. kwanza represents something missing from being Christian. racists dont want black folk being Christian. they dont want to be equals to us. they dont want to share beliefs, they dont want to have anything to do with us, cuz they know that familiarity destroys ignorance, and only the ignorant can remain hateful.

worst thing you could do to a racist is go to his church, stand next to his daughter, sing the songs better, know the word better, and exclusively talk about america as if its your home and has been for hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of years longer than him.

watch him smile when you talk about africa, cuz thats where he wants you.

keep your koofi.

pass the turkey.

read the bible.

f old santa

and the kwanza

and the reign deer

and the pooh bear.

and the sleigh bells

and the dead trees.

get on your knees

thank the savior

wrap your presents

say your dumb prayers.

– page 204, 205 from How To Blog

the unsomnambulist + the deputy + pauly d