something is generally fishy, and he’s probably hiding something

the first person who can accurately explain

what the blogfather is intentionally (laughably) (sadly) ignoring

gets a link above the blogger button for a week.

as big as a telephone pole.

hi tony pierce

what are you doing?

getting stoned.

sweet. so dude, where did you come from?

up there.

yeah but how were you made? were you in the mountain, or on it, or what?

how was i made? a mommy boulder and a daddy boulder kiss, then a baby boulder is made. was i in the mountain? yes and no. see, im part of the mountain. mountains are made up of rocks. im a rock. prick me. dont i bleed?

there are really huge ass perfectly round boulders in mountains?

yep.

how do you get round?

water.

nuts.

yep.

so water runs around you and shapes you?

youre quick. yes, tony, water. not italian renaissance artists. water.

why did you come down off your mountain?

bored.

why did you stop here in the middle of the road?

i got tired. im 10,000 years old. i get winded quickly.

anything you want to say to the readers of the busblog before they blow you up?

yes. love each other. one day you might get smooshed driving back from the piggly wiggly by something bigger than a house.

cool. k thanks big huge boulder in the middle of the road.

peace out little blogger fella.

support your favorite georgian redhead + sk smith + raymi + adios karisas roommate

when im flying above the clouds and just let my own thoughts fill me for just a few minutes.

the kids back on earth arent so happy when i do this but its good to have a little me time when the shit gets especially hairy.

sometimes i think to myself, why am i here. not alive here but at the xbi here. sometimes i think theres a better something waiting for you, go get it.

sometimes i think what if theres a worse something waiting for me. nobody ever thinks that their future might be really horrible. but thats a possibility too.

but then i get back on earth and the bad guys are shooting at me with real live speeding bullets and i think, how could my future be any worse than this?

and the bullet that zips by me whispers, whats worse would be if i got you.

went into west hollywood last night and saw my buddy dylans band, shapes of race cars, who filled the place on a tuesday night in a swanky club where all the kids were so welldressed and beautiful that it seemed like a tv show.

the bartender made me the shortest baileys doubles but i rarely go out on a school night so i just had him setting me up with more so as to show my date for the night, who claimed that she could drink, that ive seen a few cocktails in my day.

in the mensroom a guy in a silver suit came up to me and said, if you want your mojo back meet me at the crazy bridge with a bag full of gold.

i stepped on his toe.

he said please remove your foot sir.

but i didnt. i looked at him. i memorized his eyes. the lines around his eyes. i looked at how his mouth was shaped. his teeth. dental work. i paid attention to how the hair grew in around his lips and cheeks.

he said youre creeping me out dude.

i said i didnt have any mojo in the first place but now i know who you are and i wont forget you and if you try to shake me down for anything, ever, i will fuck you up in strange and terrible ways.

and then i removed my foot and he tore ass out of the mens room like a cockroach when a light is switched on.

but yes, i do miss my mojo.

at least now i know its in safe hands.

i’d go get it tonight but i have to get karisa into the defamer party

and finish applying for grad school.

listen missy + mass live covers me covering ashleys bday + zulieka

i loved that ashley was christian.

catholic, technically, but i didnt hold that against her.

i also liked that you always knew where she was.

usually it was on your lap.

sometimes i’ll go to an art opening or a wrap party or a wake and i cant for the life of me remember who i brought as my date because they’d have disappeared in with the crowd, champions of an odd but effective game of hard-to-get

not only would ashley be there holding your hand, but both of her hands were holding your hand.

wanna make out right there in the subway. fine.

she might even sigh right after and hold your arm

with both her hands.

i kid about the girls who come over for the first time and are naked within minutes but i kissed ashley minutes after getting back into our suite at caesars.

had to.

we had chatted for four months but never talked about sex or kissing or anything pg-13 or worse.

the whole time i thought it was a setup the fbi were tricking me into so id have to go back to work with them.

easiest trick in the book too.

why would that girl be interested in me.

many people dont know this, but in all of las vegas guess where we went to talk in person for the first time? the dairy queen.

totally fine unless you get the one where we were at that had the most flourescent lights youve ever seen. so good you could see every pore in a 108 year old man’s face. a little too good for my liking.

we ordered but neither of us could eat.

i think i kissed her for two nights straight.

i think she cried when i left.

and i think when i flew home every thought was about her and what the hell am i going to do about a girl 1/9th my age, who’s perfectly fine, and maybe just a little too fine for my liking.

cheap brie looks sweet but some of us are here for the bite francois.

so two years later we broke up.

crazy mudslide near santa barbara + the sugar conspiracy + heroinegirl

with drew and tom green, but i like to think it was closer to drew and adam sandler.

im a lot less canadian in real life than i appear on the web.

im trying to think of the best time that i ever had with ashley. it might have been the first time i kissed her.

i was in las vegas for business.

undercover business.

i could stay anywhere but ashley asked me to book somewhere off the strip.

she was my new best friend, and vegas has no bad hotels so i got a place super close to where she was living.

i picked her up and she was a little wisp of blonde and white and youth and excitement. lots like her pics but moreso. very much the fairy that she imagines herself as being.

sorta weird for a hardened crimefighter like myself who normally deals with the seedier side of mankind and not the soft fluffy and mythical.

picked her up after making it through two security gates and we drove around the strip and made it to my room.

always uncomfortable when you dont know a girl and you’re all, sooo, wanna come up to my room?

fortunately she said yes.

i had diet cokes cold chillin in my specially designed diet coke container.

i pay per viewed drew’s Charlies Angeles, which we had both seen before and liked

and then i made the hey-wanna-massage move

turned out ashley loved being touched

and didnt notice that i was a little rusty with the South Side Shiatsu technique that i used to fucking master.

her hair was thicker than i expected. i could see her smiling via a well placed mirror.

then i could see that her eyes were closed

so i wispered permission to kiss her neck

and lady luck shined down on me as permission was granted.

what i wrote a few days later + and this + and this

seems like just the other day i walked over to my computer to find me someone to talk to when i stumbled across her folder of pictures on the internet, and subsequent email address.

things arent really supposed to work out that easilly. are they? oh look, a super cute girl, i think i’ll email her. look at that, she emailed back. a few months later – she knows everything about you, and still wants to be naked with you. constantly.

the only thing that ive encountered in my 111 years thats weirder weirder

is dubyas reelection.

but nothing makes sense.

life isnt fair.

may as well ask the pretty girl to the dance.

she might be adorable and fun and never boring and exciting and

she might even put a smile on your face

if you let her.

friends, when i met ashley i was a broken man.

down on my luck.

kicked to the curb.

i had no money, bad credit, no job, no car,

and a bad attitude.

fortunately she was so young most of the dudes she dated were in the same boat.

pretty much up for anything except watching porn.

cant get everything, i suppose.

once we took a little moonlight drive to nowhere,

pulled over and laid down in the grass beneath an old oak tree

crickets chirped and frogs croaked

and when the summer breeze picked up a tad you could hear the brook bubbling its way to the desalizination plant.

that girl could fall asleep anywhere

and as a shooting star arched its way across the galaxy

her eyes blinked shut and i sat there and i held her

and watched the moondrops spill into the ocean

while the nightingales danced atop the tall grass

and im not with her anymore for her own good

im not with her anymore cuz im a dumbass.

ashley and her groovy friends + mrciabrdy wants to direct connect + our last days together

i said thats funny cuz im not gonna shave it off until i get laid again.

she said well i hope you get used to it grizzly adams.

i said, you dont know what youre missing little miss muffet who sat on her stuckup.

she said, omg im so sure, im so not stuck up.

i was all, talk is cheap and so is that wine, drink up and prove it baby.

and she was like, im a lady so please dont call me baby, mr suave.

i was all, we can kiss without the stubble poking your smooth as a babys ass olive of olay skin

she went oh youre so slick is this what all the girls fall for?

and i went baby look at this beard, nobody has fallen for shit for a while.

and i puckered up real good and she looked at me

i opened up one eye and looked around

she was there, smoking

crosslegged

ashing on my new tj score

totally amused with my behavoir as one would be if one hadnt ever seen a monkey play the piano before.

jimi hendrix strumming on a boombox…

im waaaaaait-ing i sang

she inhaled again and laughed and blew a stroom of smoke away from us, leaned forward and gave me a peck.

i accepted and fell over backwards dramatically holding my heart

omg i said

quiverring ever so

omg

i got back up after some time and wiped the fake sweat off my brow

and said, omg agian and then ok i think im ready for another, just let me catch my breath

she said, we had no agreements about a second kiss

always be closing my dear i said and i rubbed my hands together, stuck my chin up and pursed my lips ever so un-romantically

and said, with eyes closed, no sneaking that toungue in there this time, i barely know you.

she protested, i didnt do any such thing! and ashed the whole marlboro light out.

crawled across the picnic blanket toward me

pushed me over

looked at me

and dipped down

scratching that pale skin

but not caring

and flashing the mexicans behind her

who nearly tipped their service golf cart over.

howard owens does some Rain Blogging

The LAist Interview: Tony Pierce

Followers of the busblog are given a virtual all access pass to what its author, Tony Pierce, is thinking and doing in and around Los Angeles. And Tony’s world within this city is a textured, unorthodox, engaging place to be. (Check out the FAQ Tony posted on January 06, 2005 for a busblog primer.) His insights into myriad topics can also be found on the printed pages of his newly published book, How to Blog.

Sticklers for grammar and punctuation best look elsewhere, but loyal busblog readers can’t get enough of these glimpses inside the life of a car-less resident who passionately lives Los Angeles to the core. Fortunately for us, Tony’s prolific blogging proves he’s committed to keeping his audience sated.

1. Age and Occupation:

111, undercover superhero for the xbi

2. How long have you lived in Los Angeles, and which neighborhood do you live in?

I have lived in LA on and off since 1984. I have lived in Venice, Santa Monica, Westwood, West LA, Atwater Villiage, and Inglewood. For the last 3 years I have been a happy resident of Little Armenia.

3. Where are you from?

A tiny hamlet 45 minutes northwest of Chicago

4. What are the best and worst transportation lines in the city?

Best: The 720 Rapid runs pretty regularly from downtown to Santa Monica via Wilshire. Bad part is you can go a mile or more without a stop so know where the stops are.

Worst: I love the red line but it doesn’t run past midnight and at the Wilshire/Vermont transfer spot the waiting train likes to pull away just as the commuters are running down the stair waving their arms frantically. If I can say fuck in this interview allow me to say fuck mta drivers who are cruel in that manner.

5. Please share some stories of romantic solicitations you’ve received from the busblog readers.

I’m not a handsome man. And I’m old. And I have no automobile. And I make very little money. None of that has stopped the lovely ladies of the Internet from sending me sweet gifts, photographs, and offers of romantic dalliances.

Yes I have taken a few of them up on their offers.

Yes, some were ridiculously young.

Every encounter was beautiful and bizarre and mindblowing and precisely the reason that young boys learn how to play the guitar.

God bless the Internet!

6. Is blogging still an addiction? If not, then what motivates you to continue the busblog?

Yes I am still addicted. But the addiction doesn’t motivate me. What motivates me is my job is really hard and during my 15-minute breaks it’s really nice to just float away into a different world where I have total control and where people flood me with compliments and love and nice attention. I can honestly say that if I was happy in my career a few years ago there would have been no busblog.

7. If you had to make a soundtrack of the busblog, what might some of the selections include?

Tsar, “Wrong”

The Replacements, “If Only You Were Lonely” and “Kiss Me On The Bus”

R.E.M, “Superman”

N.W.A, “100 Miles And Runnin’”

Jane’s Addiction, “Three Days”

Led Zeppelin, “The Immigrant Song”

The Donnas, “Take It Off”

The Corvids, “Worried”

The Cure, “Why Can’t I Be You”

Soul Asylum, “Cartoon”

Beastie Boys, “Shadrach”

they asked me 28 questions. click here to read the whole thing.