three years ago,

this week on the busblog

i was trying to prove God to this buddist at the baja fresh and i saw my old boss signalling me from the salsa station.

my old fbi boss.

i excused myself and met him in the men’s room.

“long time, agent.”

“not that long, really, seems like yesterday.” i said.

“hows the xbi treating you?”

“the what?”

“ok, well, whatever. tony we want you back.”

“im touched.”

“we miss you and we need you.”

“you cant afford me.”

“what, are you suddenly materialist? has the xbi spoiled you?”

“it’s not money that i want.”

“figured as much, what do you want then?”

my old boss wasnt much of a negotiator, especially with me. all he would ever say is “no.”

“i want my old flying car back and i want to be a superagent, and i want my old territory back.”

“sorry kid, no can do. santa monica is taken.”

“yeah, i know, by your son-in-law. is he still in the hospital?”

“hal is back, he’s fine, thank you.”

“well, those are my terms, my fish tacos are getting cold.”

someone knocked on the door, my boss yelled, “one sec, buddy.” then he said, “we could get you your car.”

“and i want to pick my partner,” i added.

“next you’ll be telling me that you want to pick your boss.”

“get me santa monica back, and let me pick my partner and i’ll be happy with you as my boss.”

“boy, that’s a change.”

my boss always liked to get close to me and whisper in my ear. that never sat well with me, but i understood his motives.

he said, “i’ll see what i can do, agent. but your partner has to be someone from the bureau. none of those xbi hoodlums.”

i washed my hands with hot water and soap. my boss looked at his male pattern baldness and primped. i dried off with the papertowels and threw all but one in the trash and used the remaining towel to protect my soon-to-be fishy fingers and opened the door.

like a gentleman i allowed my boss to exit first.

he said thank you and as he passed, i attached a bug to the collar of his suit coat.

ej flavors + pepper blog + one ring

first day back at work usually sucks

blogging while black sxswbut not at the xbi.

people have been super nice. even before i got into the building one of my favorite agents told me that he saw me mentioned on msnbc,

then a hot babe told me that she saw me mentioined on wwdn,

then the parking dude who looks in everyones trunks told me that he had been noticing that whenever anyone talked about the Blogging While Black panel at sxsw they said that they really loved it.

then he asked me if i noticed that in all the pictures if you look at our nameplates it looks like tony pierce(‘s) brown johnson.

and i was all, NO!

but when i saw the picture i was all, who thinks like that?

the busride here was nice. everything was nice. im still waiting for something to go wrong, but it hasnt happened yet. maybe i’ll get shot at when im least expecting it and i will remember that im not on vacation any more.

a few people bought books from me while i was on vacation. thanks to the miracle of paypal and the usps those books will be out Today. so thank you good folks.

for those of you who would like a signed copy of How To Blog just send me an email requesting a paypal invoice and i will hook you up. the current sale price is $18 plus $5 s/h.

and im thinking that once we get rid of this box of books then that will be it. i love this book but its time for us to move on and maybe write an entirely new book or put together a different compilation or finish my xxx novel. who knows.

i miss you austin texas. i miss your bbq houses, i miss your texan beer. i miss walking down the street and hearing one band after another. i miss waking up in my motel room to the shrieks of the girls next door engaged in an early morning pillow fight, i miss the long nights of shots with sk smith, i miss not having to worry about what time it is – ever.

that is the life that i want to lead and maybe there will be a day when i can sucker someone into hiring me to live that way and blogging about it. these are the best days of our lives america. thats what the tv says at least.

tonight i will write all the things that people outside of the blogosphere have been waiting patiently for me to write. then i will dance around my house like tom cruise in risky business.

if theres one thing i hate its unfinished business. i hate things hovering over me. it sucks away at any semblance of freedom. i like blank slates. i like going home and not having anything that i have to do. i like knocking shit out and forgetting about it, and for some reason i have shit to do and it has turned from a “get to” to a “have to” and i cant have that in my life.

hung out with the old lady who lives in the shoe yesterday. 92 years old. just got a new maid. she wanted us to meet because shes always trying to set me up. very sweet of her. i shook the young womans hand and we were both embarrassed.

afterwards i took a very long walk on a very long pier

then i came home and read all of the email that so many of you have written. some love letters, some sweet letters, some semi job queries, and one hate mail item.

i knew i was still on vacation cuz they all seemed so nice. all of them.

and i dont know about you, but im glad that the lakers arent gonna make the fucking playoffs after trading away shaq for three nobodies cuz now i can say i told you so.

three from welch: the shame of the steroid hunt + Riod Rage? + Jock Sniffing