i think my gf brooke is cheating on me

so heres the latest picture of my desk here at Buzznet.

speaking of which Lou Rawls died today. now if you had put Lou in your Buzzblog death pool you would have earned all those points PLUS youd be able to replace him with another likely subject.

this is to encourage people to enter the pool now until the 15th.

up until the 15th anyone who dies on your list gets you those points plus another pick.

its brilliant really.

people should be rewarded for adopting early.

thats one reason why Stiff will only be sold until 1/31 and then never again.

maybe one day far far away someone will publish Stiff and you’ll see it at Crown Books or whatever bookstores are around these days, but its those people who can say “i got one of the cafepress first run editions” who will have the truly valueable ones.

i wanted to stop production next week but someone said that because of Christmas he wont have any money until the end of the month. so fine. youve got till the end of the month.

im eating peanut butter toast and drinking water. i feel like im 8.

im not poor, its just that mc brown and i normally take lunch right now but hes got a meeting with an interior designer right now about curtains for the office.

thats another difference between he and i. in a million years i would never call up an interior designer for the office. but see, hes all about class, and i think interior design is scotch taping skateboard pictures all over the walls and then finding some framed nagels and nail them everywhere.

karisa said she wants to do something with me this weekend.

i want to go to vegas this weekend but i dont know anyone there who i can stay with and rooms are gonna be $$$ cuz of CES and the porno convention.

which is why i wanna go there.

that free ride i was getting from the XXX Flix went away and as soon as this other company found out they hooked me up with a deal with another XXX Flix and i gotta say theyre waaaaaay better. the shit arrived quickly and their website is way better.

unfortunately the chick i used to watch them with now has someone else to watch them with and i know it sounds funny, but watching porn alone now seems weird.

my first desk at E! + second desk at E! + third desk at E! + my desk at look look was behind those boxes

im sorry i havent written you in a while. how are you. how was your new year. mine was good. i traveled the pacific northwest in an old car in the rain.

it was so fun.

last night i couldnt go to kitty bukkakes birthday party because the old lady was freaking out upstairs.

shes 92 and i like her a lot and she doesnt want to abuse our relationship but who else can you call at 9pm when your fan has fallen over and youve convinced yourself that if you let it run all night on its side that your house will catch fire.

it takes her a while to walk to the door.

anyways last night i was helping her out and by the time i had finished everything which includes mailing her bills off, i was far too late for kittys birthday so i just sat on the couch all dressed up and fell asleep.

all dressed up for me, of course means i changed shirts

taking off the tsar shit

putting on the gwar shirt.

and i ate a peice of seven grain bread right out of the bag

not because im poor or anything, but because i was too lazy to go and toast it or put some squeeze parkay on it.

or squeeze grape jelly.

i fell asleep watching the daily show and i had a dream which really makes me mad because i hate dreams.

and when i awoke i heard the phone ringing. and it was the lady and i couldnt make out what she was saying but she didnt seem freaked out or crazed. so, and i hate this raymi for i feel you will think less of me, but i didnt listen closely to her message and i didnt even listen to the message, instead i found my way to my bed – which i still cant believe how soft it is thanks to the thousand dollar mattress – and fell asleep.

so at six am this morning she calls again.

raymi, she had falled over that night and wasnt able to get up. she had been on the floor the whole night crawling around! and when she had called last she was saying to come and help. to break a window if thats what it took.

so there she was at 6am telling me she was still on the floor and i was all, why didnt you call 911? and she said, theyve already come over twice before in the past and they will try to get me sent to a nursing home.

she doesnt want to go to a nursing home because of her cat. she loves her cat. hes pretty fat. seems happy.

anyways here in america apparently you cant have your cat in your nursing home with you.

and im telling you baby, i HAVE to get trump to go in on some nursing homes with me because this is exactly what ive been talking about: when youre old you should be able to go back to the dorms like you enjoyed in college.

and at the end of the hall, instead of an RA should be a hot nurse to take care of your ass if you need some pills or some shit.

i would start saving up NOW if i knew that it was going into paying for being able to go to a dorm nursing home during my last days.

how expensive could it be to build cool towers, have nurses on every floor, and decorate it fun and have a good time with everyone.

and its my belief that people would pay a fortune to be able to party instead of suffer during their sunset as they head to paradise.

i liked the dorms, not because of the sex and drugs and good music, but because everyone was my basic age group doing pretty much exactly what i was doing. even then i knew that that would be the last time that i would be surrounded by so many total peers.

therefore who better to hang out with when youre going through the scary lap that is the end of ones life?

so at 6:15pm i found myself outside her front door looking for a nice pane of glass to smash into with my 20lb mini barbell. i use it to keep the guns toned. oh yeah. its hollywood, gotta be in good shape since everyone else is. pain in the ass.

so i slammed the barbell into her front door and it sounded like a thud. nothing broke.

and maybe its different for you, but i havent shaved in a week, and i was wearing a black Obey touque and a wool lined green flannel shirt and baggy green pants. and lets face it i look like a gangmember breaking into an old ladys house.

so i called the direct line to the fire department and they told me to call 911 and that was pretty funny

i said my 91 yr old neighbor has fallen down and cant get up and i cant get into the house.

she said, ok, we will gain access to her apartment. now dont move her.

i was all, i just told you, i cant get into the house. thats what i need you guys for, can you break in?

three minutes later i heard sirens. seriously. these people were fast.

four fire dudes and the captain pulled out a big knife and in one wallop into the lock he was in.

he got in there faster than i get into my door with keys.

another fireman put on rubber gloves, and they lifted her and sat her in her bed and they were out of there.

true professionalism.

i asked one of them if this happens alot in hollywood, and he said its the majority of their calls.

now its 7:30am and i cant get back to sleep thinking how she was on the floor all night and i was in that soft bed. how is life fair?

so ive been reading the Post Secret book that i was supposed to review for a very fancy magazine, but if im too lazy to toast bread, you can imagine how lazy ive been about getting back to people who want me to write for them.

you know another book i loved that i was supposed to review but i didnt? Vurt. fucking love that book.

anyways Post Secret is a really good, but sad book. its the best postcards that the blog Post Secret got. secrets.

so i was thinking that finally i have a decent secret to give those guys.

“i slept in bed as an old lady slept on the floor – because i didnt listen to my answering machine.”

now i have to find a decent post card to put it on.

but what will i do with the one i was gonna send to them:

“i only had sex ten times last year.”

tell fil im about to make him some money,

tony

raymi and paige are having a party and you should go

i dont know about that.

but definately proof that Blacks will (and should) dominate the position of QB

the nyt today ran an op-ed that she wrote about the big scandal in dc

Political Theatre of the Absurd
By ANA MARIE COX
Washington

THE bad guy with a fondness for quoting the most extortionary lines of “The Godfather” walks out of the courtroom dressed like a film noir villain. He was there because his pretty-boy partner had already dropped a dime on him. Lying, cheating, stealing, gambling … and Indians. By Washington standards, the Jack Abramoff scandal is about as theatrical as you can get without having sex in the headline. (The last scandal here to involve costumes was Abscam: we were due for something that would offer better material for fancy-dress parties than blue dresses and scooters.)

Until Tuesday, Mr. Abramoff’s elaborate web of corruption was an inside-the-Beltway story: we were the only ones with the patience for it. But nothing simplifies a scandal like a guilty plea. Now, the queasily intricate dance of payoffs, favors and influence-peddling that seems to implicate people from the White House on down has the nation on edge.

Yet despite predictions that Mr. Abramoff’s deal is the beginning and not the end of the story, it’s difficult to see if this one will end with the satisfying clink of handcuffs.

True, we are told, repeatedly, that the case has half of Washington’s powerbrokers looking over their shoulder and the other half salivating for a parade of perp walks. And in Washington, a high body count gets everyone’s attention (except maybe the president’s). Mr. Abramoff’s connections seem infinite; attempts to follow the money give you something looking less like a flow chart than like spaghetti. Delicious, felonious spaghetti.

But who is actually going to receive Jack Abramoff’s Lady-and-the-Tramp-style kiss of death? The only plausible candidate at the moment is Representative Bob Ney, an Ohio Republican who appears to be a rather ham-fisted bungler. Mr. Abramoff had dealings with dozens of Washington bigwigs, yet Representative Ney is the only one to make a (pseudonymous) appearance in the indictment.

What Mr. Ney did was either very bad or very stupid, likely both. But he hardly needed Mr. Abramoff to besmirch his reputation: he has recently drawn scrutiny for the unlikely feat of winning $34,000 on an initial $100 bet during a London casino romp, and on another junket he met with a convicted con artist whom MSNBC reported had “cheated on his taxes and was involved in a deal to swindle Elvis Presley.” Mr. Ney refused to discuss these issues with the press because of “national security implications.” Well, Richard Nixon did give Elvis a federal drug agent’s badge.

Despite the desperate glee of the editorializers and the almost-as-desperate rinsing of Abramoff funds from Republican coffers, the smell in the air is panic, not blood. In order to cast their net beyond Diamond Bob Ney, the feds would have to, as one Republican source told the Times, “pursue a different definition of bribery” – that is, prove that “if somebody were to give a gift or a campaign contribution in the same time period as a member took an official action, that in and of itself would constitute bribery.” And you thought Patrick Fitzgerald was criminalizing politics.

Sad to admit it, but most of what Jack Abramoff did with politicians (as opposed to his outright fraud with Indian tribes) wasn’t criminal so much as extreme. The Hollywood arc would have a chain-gang of Congressmen breaking rocks by the final reel, but we are unlikely to get such satisfaction outside of celluloid.

The best we can do is hope that the lack of so cinematic a finish will not mean that the Abramoff affair will be irrelevant or even forgettable. For one thing, Mr. Abramoff may go down as the first man in American history too corrupt to be a lobbyist. Poor Paul Miller, who as president of the American League of Lobbyists (that’s the one with the designated-hitter rule) has the thankless task of defending his trade, told reporters he was reluctant to say that Mr. Abramoff even deserved to be called a member of the profession. O.K., but he deserves to be called other things. Some of them unprintable in family newspapers.
http://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gif
Other modern Congressional kerfuffles have not been as flashy. Neither the Congressional check-kiting scandal, the Keating Five imbroglio nor Dan Rostenkowski’s thrilling run-in over postal franking privileges are likely to be made into a mini-series any time soon. But these past episodes did have the advantage of being prosecutable.

With his casinos, phony charities and Scottish golfing trips, Jack Abramoff has drawn attention to Washington’s fascinatingly filthy underbelly. One can only hope that the melodrama will keep people watching. While we should hesitate before defining corruption still further down (“No chiseler left behind!”), we don’t need to pause before throwing the bums out. Ask any lawmaker: the harshest penalty one can receive isn’t prison; it’s losing.

Ana Marie Cox is the editor of the Wonkette blog, author of the novel “Dog Days“, and met tony and sk smith in ’05

who i adore, who is wonderful, who is sexier than you know

play in her archives

read her get interviewed by sk smith

give her props

in the jack in the box drive through and curled around to the back and paused there as i collected my things.

and i tried to start the car up and it wouldnt turn over so i got out and lifted the hood and saw that those slippery battery cables were loose again.

and right before i lifted my foot to stomp the cables down, out of the corner of my eye i noticed two young latin dudes one with a bright crimson and mustard usc football jersey

and since today is the rosebowl game, i thought, oh thats nice, la isnt usually known for its outward gestures to the sports teams, so its nice to see a little love on game day.

and then i mashed the cables into place and slammed the hood i looked at his jersey again as he walked to his car and saw that, yes, indeed it was a 32 oj simpson jersey!

dude, who ever you are, you win for the day.

tremendous.

yesterdays man of the day was mr david letterman who shook bill o’reilly around verbally on the late show last night.

dave wasnt as harsh on the host of the factor as phil donahue was earlier this year, but he did conclude with the blunt statement that he felt that o’reilly is mostly full of shit.

but to really be shocked, take a look at these people who are convinced that o’reilly schooled dave!

notice the lack of hypocracy they feel as they argue that letterman treated his guest unfairly or unkindly… the guest being the king of “shut up”.

and watch how they attack cindy sheehan.

maybe i will do a review of 2005 so maybe i can figure out how it could be the first year where millions of people turned their back on a greiving mother of a fallen son so that they could instead support the president in his phony war about weapons of mass destruction that were never found.

two thousand and five.

i remember being a little kid thinking about what life would be like in 2000.

never would i think that a mother would be attacked simply because she wants peace.

in a hundred years people will think that this story was made up

well johnny once there was a woman who was cursed at because after her son died in war she became passionate about being anti war.

they said no way does she really believe those things, shes being co-opted by socialists and hippies and fat movie directors, no way in hell is her point of view reasonable or believable.

and johnny will ask, you mean president sheehan?

and johnnys mom will say, before she was president, she will earn the anna as the busblog woman of the year for 2005.

sadly i have no photos of ms sheehan, so model actress caprice will have to work as a placeholder.

amy + anti + jmo + birthday

my burrito is giving me heartburn, but all is good in the hood because the First Annual Buzzblog Death Pool is on the air.

my official title at Buzznet is Community Manager, and what a better way to bring the community together than through death?

and since the Gorilla Mask seems to have dropped the ball in regards to the Death Pool, i have taken it upon myself to carry the torch.

so what i have done, quite cleverly if i do say so myself, is utilized four different parts of Buzznet to orchestrate this particular Death Pool.

what you do first if youre a Buzznet user (if youre not a user, the very first thing you do is sign up – it takes about 30 seconds) is write your list into your journal and before you hit Save make sure to use the buzzword “death pool 2006”.

then you number your likely suspects from 1-10.

#10 is the person who you think is most likely to kick it.

if that person dies in 2006 you get 10 points, etc

then you find pictures of these 10 people and post them on your picture page.

then you put a comment on the Buzzblog post (http://www.buzznet.com/buzzblog/9295/) with your list of 10 – this prevents cheating since you cannot edit your comments.

then you get on your knees and pray for death!

just kidding.

sorta.

heres my list

10. Dick Cheney
9. Gerald Ford
8. Abe Vigoda
7. The Queen of England
6. Mickey Rooney
5. Michael Jackson
4. Elizabeth Taylor
3. Les Paul
2. Dick Clark
1. Tom Delay

there will be a winner and that winner will get a prize.

its her birthday today

wish mia a happy 25th birthday, wont you?