senior dumbass! me! look ma, im part of the cover story in the LA Weekly called “L.A. People 2006 – Who we are: An introduction and index of the profiles.”

Some Los Angelinos featured include Ed Asner, Jack Black, Larry Clark, Shepard Fairey of Obey/Giant, Hal Fishman, Luke Ford my man!, Brett Gurewitz of Bad Religion, my favorite producer ever Rick Rubin, Fred Segal, Sarah Silverman, and our very own mayor Antonio Villaraigosa.

How the hell did i get in that company?

Lord only knows. But i do know i wouldnt have even been considered if not for you and you and you and you and you. so gravitas.

The Blog That Refreshes
Tony Pierce

By SCOTT STERLING

“BLOGGING IS WEIRD,” ponders Tony Pierce over the phone, talking about www.tonypierce.com — equal parts diary, music magazine and “personal experiment,” as he puts it. “About a month ago, I lost my iPod. So I wrote on my blog that I needed the money to replace it. I said that if only 20 people sent in $20, I’d have enough. In less than 36 hours I had the money. The iPod I was replacing had been bought by them as well.”

Pierce’s fiercely personal blog has that kind of an impact on its growing legion of readers (around 2,000 a day at last count), which is especially rare considering that he’s “not a chick or someone just hitting you with pop culture and gossip.” Waxing eloquent on everything from the 10-year anniversary of Kurt Cobain’s suicide to his highly opinionated activities on a Coachella message board to a recent weekend spent in Toronto celebrating the birthday of his favorite blogger, Raymi (www.raymitheminx.blogspot.com) ­— paid for via a reader’s travel-agency connection — Pierce has blazed his own trails. Other popular site features include quirky interviews (such as a famous conversation with a broken escalator) and photo essays of Los Angeles, which, in Pierce’s hyper-real way, amplify the beauty, chaos and general insanity of the world around him.

It’s been five years now, and Pierce has earned his place in the blog hierarchy the old-fashioned way.

“People would try to call me out in the comments section of the page, and I just took it to ’em,” he remembers. “We would go back and forth until I’d finally squash them. It was like being an opening band that’s determined to rock you no matter what. I basically demanded the respect, and I got it.”

Crazy thing is i barely remember any of that interview since it was done via cell phone as i was rushing to work.

Speaking of which Happy 4/20!!!

rob t + matt c + isla vista

as his boss was at being President.

but to be fair, being part of the daily coverup(s) in the White House is a tough job even if you arent closeted, weak, spineless, dimwitted, slow, dull, lacking, and completely full of shit.

what this administration could have used was someone who knew how to sell an idea. they didnt need anyone any good, but they could have used someone.

luckilly for the president the press, for the exception of a very small group of actual professionals, have acted as if theyre still in shock at the amount of malarkey that gets shoveled down their throats to actually stand up and call bullshit.

david gregory does it, helen thomas does it, keith oberman does it. but thats about it. the rest of them are really no better than jeff gannon who gladly bends over for this group of charlatans, theives, bullshit artists, murderers, torturers, and drunken hunters.

therefore scotty mcclellen was all that was necessary to throw out in front of the toothless corps.

he will go down as a sorry excuse for a man. more boyish and fey than manly. i cant imagine any hair on his chest or muscle mass, let alone a set of nads. but thats typical with his associates.

he lied to our faces. he stuttered as he thought, he looked around as he spoke, he seemed to have something else on his mind like what karl rove had instructed him Not to say as opposed to what he wanted to say.

again, he wasnt much different than his boss.

catching liars at work is a pretty easy gig. you watch them repeat the safe phrases, you notice how they dont want to continue on the topic at hand, you listen as they tighten their assholes as they speak. you take a drink for each time they blink.

if he wasnt in a past life scott mcclellan would have made an excellent towel boy at at the mens sauna at an all-white country club. he would have brought a fine glass of lemonade. he would have been the boy most unlikely to fuck your daughter behind the elms on the 7th tee.

he probably got good grades, was throttled after school, and folded his underwear before putting them away.

the Lord hates liars though, but for some reason i predict that mercy will be shown on his soul for the hell that it must have been to be the epitome of the tool that he was forced to be after ari stepped down to avoid prison.

i predict scott will choose one of two paths in the near future:

a clean suicide in the bathtub of a fancy hotel in singapore after a week of drinking drugging and buggering.

or a downward spiral into madness in a small apartment in iowa as the doors play on repeat and the local chinese place is instructed to come to the door at noon and at six each day.

what we have seen is probably the worst job performance of any man since his boss, or his boss’s boss, the vice president, but fortunately for scotty in a few years nobody outside of the blogosphere or the beltway will remember his name and if he wants he can grow a moustache and be a substitute teacher in the ghettos of some urban hell in texas.

which im sure will seem like a vacation in comparison to where he just was.

personally i hope he grows a pair and writes a book about how he and karl held hands alot and discussed the irony that this administration sold out their own to get re-elected only to completely fail at everything that they attempted in the second term other than packing the court.

march on, priveldged white male who sucked at his job, march on.

a video collection of the best/worst moments of scotty’s era

never did i expect that there would be even the slightest modicum of controversy here on Baseball Blog 2002, but apparently you cant get away with calling John Rocker a racist these days without getting called out, and you know what, that’s fine with me.

i have the most intelligent, insightful readers here on this page and for that im grateful, but bro…

i dont care how drunk the reporter got Rocker, or how many drugs he fed him, or whatever the Rocker apologists are saying that has convinced some that the lefty was hoodwinked by the “big city ‘Sports Illustrated'” reporter back in December of ’99, but unless youre a brain-dead cocky redneck, naive as all hell, you do not, under any circumstance say these sorts of things to any reporter:

“The biggest thing I don’t like about New York are the foreigners. I’m not a very big fan of foreigners. You can walk an entire block in Times Square and not hear anybody speaking English. Asians and Koreans and Vietnamese and Indians and Russians and Spanish people and everything up there. How the hell did they get in this country?”

And you certainly dont call your African-American teammate, Randall Simon, “a fat monkey,” and not expect a few people, including yours truly, to assume that you’re a piece of shit racist.

I don’t care too much about what the mayor of Atlanta, Andrew Young, had to say about Rocker and his family, I don’t take too many things that politicians, even accomplished ones like Young, say in public, because, unlike Rocker, Young’s job is to say the right things.

I care about what guys like Simon had to say.

“I swear to you if he said that to my face I’d tear him up, and one of us would be suspended right now,” Simon responded in 2000.

Here’s something that might surprise you, though– as a proud African-American male, I couldnt give a shit if John Rocker was a racist, homophobe, redneck, 6’4″ bully, who’d been pampered and excused his whole worthless life because he was born left-handed.

If I had a baseball team and he could throw strikes and get people out, I would hire him to play on my team. It is not my job to tell people how to think or act or what to believe in, if I was a GM or a team president, I would say, “yep, I got the racist in the bullpen and I hope he strikes out the stoners that he’ll face.”

I am proud to be an American and live in a country where guys like Rocker can spout their ignorant mouths off and where millions of fans can give it right back to him. I thought it was wrong that Rocker was fined and suspended for his statements. The public wrath was plenty.

No, I dont think he was a victim of the journalist who drove with him through Atlanta as he reeled off a series of slurs that you’d expect from any number of southern-bred frat boys. I also dont think he was a victim of the surroundings where he grew up in. I think he was a victim of having the inability to listen to the best pitching coach in modern history and the victim of having the inability to learn from some of the finest pitchers to ever climb the mound.

Do I care that many – mostly white – fans came to his defense when he came under constant fire for speaking his mind about “queers” and “foreigners”? Not at all. I fail to see where a pitcher who had two decent seasons could inspire someone who was not already a racist, sexist, ignoramous, to aquire those beliefs.

Am I happy that he has struggled mightilly over the last few seasons? Fuck yeah.

Why should I want to see someone so hateful, predictable, and juvenile prosper and become a rich and famous in the very country that was made stronger by its diversity?

Be they Asians or Koreans, Vietnamese or Indians, Russians, Spanish people, or thick-necked goons, this country has become the best place in the world because of (not inspite of) the melding of cultures and differences in thought – but that doesn’t mean that I have to root for assholes.

The nature of competitve professional sports doesnt always reward or breed the gentleman, but there is no reason why we should champion the intentional imbecile.

And despite my learned reader who might think otherwise, the only person who fucked John Rocker was himself.

Which, ironically, was the advice I yelled to the reliever from the stands not too long ago.

including a reeeaaaallly funny/scary Easter Egg in the trailer. who does that?

the egg is only a frame long so use the pause button and go frame by frame

or if you give up click here to see the frame itself

a lot of people have been very very amazingly cool about putting the coachella ad in their blogad space for free.

i cannot believe how nice so many of you are. thank you. thank you. thank you!

some of you have even offered to sign up for Blogads just to host my little ad for free. that is extremely nice but so unneccessary.

if you really want blogads go for it, but if what you really want to do is just host this ad for a few weeks i have made the JPEG of the ad right there for sweet folks like you who should beware of the sun because you’ll melt.

feel free to hotlink the pic if you want, just make sure that the link from the ad goes to http://www.buzznet.com/events/coachella/

Q. hey tony how do we link from a picture in a way that doesnt give me that lameass blue border around the image?

A. oh thats so easy you’re going to hate yourself for asking it.

the secret is border=0

so in your img src=”http://… tag, youre going to want to put that border=0 deal in there so it will be img border=0 src=…

Q. hey tony what if we want to put an image in the body of text and have the text wrap around it, like we see you do in your sweet pics on the world famous busblog?

a. oh now thats some fancy shit. but i think i can tell you. in that same image tag either bust with the align=left or align=right depending on how you want the text to wrap. you might also want to slide in a little funkiness that i call the hspace padding i like to add 11 hspaces. so in your average busblog image tag it looks like img align=left hspace=11 src=”…

Q. tony, i have two girlies who want your ass. how do i arrange this?

A. all inquiries go through my social director. Karisa J. Hotshit, 4845 Fountain Ave. #15, Hollywood, CA, 90029

Q. tony balogne, this is serious. I have FOUR lawn tickets to Jimmy Buffett that i need to unload Quick. he’s playing at the Verizon Wireless in Irvine tomorrow. as in TOMORROW. im willing to let them go for $80 total. thats $20 each. no fees. no hassles. no problems. Busblog special. and theyre email tickets. so your readers will have them delivered to their email boxes. how do i let people know how they can get these?

A. Readers, if you want to put on your party hats and boogie down with the Parrotheads in Irvine, email Chad aka Chokey Chicken at chokeychicken @ gmail.com

Q. tony are you going to the Cubs game tonight?

A. i want to but i have to do some secret xbi shit that suddenly came up. SUX!

Q. tony how many nudes from the ladies do you get in your inbox? seriously?

A. not nearly enough. but Spring usually is better than Winter as far as that is concerned. so thanks for asking.

Friends i must run. be excellent to each other, and if you really do put this image on your blog, email me or let me know in the comments and i will link to you at the end of a blog post or in the Specials.

now take on the day

erin from canada + dougie gyro

ive been driniking. dkinrinking at mussos and frnaks in hollywoodl. one of the classic bar/restaurants in all of hollywood. and even though ive lived here for a long longlong loooong time i havenddt even been inside it intul tonoight. evne though when i worked last summer at the marketing company we shared a parking lot. even though bukowski totally drank there once he made it. even though hemingway dransk there which is why bukowski drabnk there. the stones love it there actually all old men love it there cuz its old school. it was nice.

i went there because me and rob from e! and the lovely carolyn kellogg from laist have been trying to have drinks with me and neil romeneck for almost a month now. neal doesnt get his name spelld rotight because he ditched us. sumthing suddenly came up marsha brady. iv e gotta poop cuz i drank too many aremereto sours. which i want to now call amaretto smiles cuz thats what they do to me. they also let me i mean make me talk way too much.

carolyun has the greatest red hair. not red like youre thinking RED fucking hair like ahhhhh. ive always wanted that. i might gro w back the frow just so i can dye it red and tell the world here i am fucker.s

i was nervous about what to wear cuz iu wore shorts to work today and i wanted to wear shorts to mussos and franks abut its sorta fancy only cuz so many old people ago there. like cary grant would totally be there if he was still around. he might be there. rob and carolyn had martinis cuz theyre classy. im just a dope but i wore pants and i changed my gangsta flannel for a nice corderoy flannel. and i took off my cap at the bar.

im wathsfing the cubs on tvio so dont tell me who won. cubds are down by one in the sixth. anyways it was very nice to talk with rob and carolym, im not sure how we woulda done it if neal was there cuz you couldnt move the barstols they were in the foloor real good incase of emregency. ui wonder if thats for earthqyuakes or drunks. btw today was the 100th anniversary of the frisco earthquake a hundred years ago. my ass is itchy. i should have my panjamas on. its 1212 why do i still have clothes on.

anyways carolyn listens. i dont liseten. she also reads a lot. rob does too. i dont read anything buyt blogs. instead of coachella shes going to the LA book fair. she asked which writers would you meet if you could and i could only think of Lynda Barry and the chick who wrote wite oleander jante janet finch. i want to read bloggers and meet them, thats who i wanna meet. book writers bore me. write every day in public and thgen you’ll impress me. put out every damn day. buiild an audience. bust with your real life. who couldntr write fuction. fickton. fuktion. im gonna spell it right if it kills me FICTION ahhhh who cant write fiction? but write about your life and do it every day and make it not boring and then youre something. suddenly i can write.

i dont have the patiene3 to write fictuin. see frauyd fraued frued freud i cant even sopell fiction right even though this whole blog is fuction., every time someone interviewds me they ask my age and if my name is really tony pierce or not. and i say im 21 and my name is tony hemingway but i changed it to poierce cuz none of you fuckers would believe whgo my papa reall y is. and they say really and i say nah. and htey say no really and i say yeah and they go fuck and i go no and they go no really seriously and i go yeah no maybe whocares.

i got a lot of emails from people today. so many i cant even remember so many i dont think i wrote everyone back. i have ajob you know. my hands are sore from my job. i m sooo sorry if i dont write you back when you write me. i love the nice things everyone says but whoooo cubs tied it up. anyways i will write you back. if you write me and i dont write back it doesnt mean anything other than i suck ok. ok. anyways thatnks. dude sent me a cd and a book the other day and i havent written him back. this movie stuido sent me a movie that i totally watched and liked but i havent reviewd it yet. blog ads want me to interview some people and im gonna dtry to do that tomorrow during lunch. im a busy bee. i like being busy but its getting in the way of my romantic interestes. giving that advice about asking three gurls out a week is good fucking advice no pun intended and im thinking when was the last time i asked out theree girls in a week, probabaly college.

as a matter of fact there was a week were i asked out a girl every day for a week and they all seaid yes. now of course i was far handsomer then, and girls were hornier in those days and the sun was brighter and gas was cheeopre and when youre one of only 50 black men in a school of 18,900 and half of those are chickes so 9500 and half of htose are hot so 4800 and half fo those are single so 2400 and half of those have the jungle feaver so youve got 1200 stone cold foxes to find if my math is correct which it probably isnt because somehow i got validated at musso anf franks and still i had to pay eight bucks to park. anyways they all said yes and in those days i awas a virgin and all i wanted to do was kiss goodnight and see what they were gonna wear. iw as bizarre. and that was before i strted drugs.

laist + when i was interviewed by laist last year rob attack cat + mia neal

has reached 40 comments. this is from the post about what the ladies of the world should do for the shy boys of the world on Good Friday.

i suggested that if the lovelies took one for the team as it were that it would help make the world a better place.

sadly many young ladies are of the belief that there are no one-night-stands out there. no quickies for the nerds. no wham bam thank you ma’ams for the eight-sided die crowd. the complaint is that once a hottie puts out a bit the boys become stalkers, ever clutchy, like leeches that you cant rid yourself of.

and i dont want to sit here in the sunshine of hollywood and pretend that im better than anyone. and i certainly dont want to make you think that i havent fallen for a girl or two in a way that i appeared stalkerish. yes even yours truly has sometimes had a hard time accepting a flat out no.

ask my true love who said no to my advances pretty much every day for the last several years.

she said no to offers of marriage, being my girlfriend, being my f buddy, being my roommate, being my sexual surrogate, being my love slave, joining me in threesomes, being my live art nude model, being my french maid, or allowing me to use her as a practice ho. and many times all of those offers came in one phone call.

whats sad is each time i presented the invitation i seriously thought i had a slim chance of acceptance.

so yes boys are delusional. and yes girls have no problem saying no. endlessly. sure its uncomfortable for both sides but just like a call in the wild the bluebird needs to sing “hey any horny birds out there?” and the robin needs to sing “shut it bluebird.”

therefore heres my advice for the boys and the girls.

boys – even in small towns there are lots of chicks. lots. if there arent and youre over 18, get the fuck out. do your penis a favor. if your penis could pack your bags and move you out it would, so do it. you have the feet, you have the hands.

secondly, when youre 18, boys, you Have to go to college. even if its junior college. i went to junior college and guess what, that was the place where i met the girl who would eventually accept my virginity. college is the single best place for people to get laid. avoid college and you avoid the love you so desire.

finally, boys, if you want to get girls its very simple. you must start asking girls out. every week you need to ask three girls out. heres what i recommend: one of the girls needs to be the hottest chick ever. one of them needs to be someone who youre pretty sure will say yes but is still someone who makes you nervous. and one has to be a sure thing. but keep this in mind, even sure things arent sure things so get ready.

the reason you need to ask all three each week is not to increase your odds of lovin but so you can notice how you act differently to women based on your fucked up beliefs about looks/status/intelligence/etc. the truth is all three women are exactly the same: female. everything else is shit you made up about them, and usually its shit you made up that gets in the way of you getting laid.

when you ask, be funny. smile when you do it. dont ask as much as invite. dont ask as much as inform. baby you and me are gonna see a great movie on friday. do you wanna go to the arclight or to the drive in, and dont worry i’ll still put out if you dont pay.

ok ladies. we do appreciate it when you get drunk and hump us. we really do. and we realize that sometimes when you say no you mean maybe. thats what confuses us. so heres what you need to remember and do when youre blowing us off. remember that boys are like dogs. you cant tell a dog once not to piss on the floor. you have to tell the dog repeatedly. sometimes you need to wack the puppy in the head with a rolled up newspaper or shove its nose in the piss. remember that. remember we are very big dogs who wear hats. shove the piss in our nose.

do this by writing us letters. letters dont change. write things like this.

tony, i was drunk, it was fun but its over. you need to move on. there will be girls who will love you and want you. im not one of those girls. im one of the girls who did you and enjoyed it but it will never happen again. before you call me again read this postcard 100 times. and if you call me dont call me a bitch dont call me to say youve changed dont call me to be friends dont call me to try something fancy to get me call me to say thank you i get it i got it im out. but instead of calling me, call someone who hasnt made out with you yet. that will make me feel way better. but thanks for taking me to the dodger game last night.

ok its time to make the donuts.

a few feet from the field and a few feet from the fair pole, the best part about the Cubs game yesterday at Dodger Stadium, besides watching the Professor school the home team was in the elevator ride from the field boxes to the top of the park, where our car was waiting.

for in this elevator was me, my date, her roommate and boyfriend, and about 25 pissed off dodger fans including four very large latin gentlemen with tattoos up to their neck and scars like those made from knives.

me, i had a Cubs spring training 1986 tshirt, cubs hat, bag of peanuts that my mom sent me in my easter basket that had the cubs logo on the bag, and small pin that said hey hey.

even without my afro somehow all eyez remain on me.

so as soon as i stepped into the packed oversized elevator the biggest meanest toughest gang member – lets be real – said,

looks like you stepped on the wrong elevator

and there was silence

and a few quiet chuckles

now let me tell you a little something about the author of this blog. ever since the cubs lost in the playoffs in 1984 to the san diego padres, an interesting phenomenom swept over me.

the willingness to die. as in, not being at all afraid to leave this mortal coil.

its my belief that that precise lack of fear that most normal humans have is what the xbi found most appealing in me, and why they recruited me while i was in college.

so when this 6’2″ 250 man with a tattooed tear coming down his eye looked at me and said that i got in the wrong elevator after greg maddux spread 3 hits over 8 innings making quick work of a dodger lineup missing allstar jeff kent, and hobbled by just-recovering jd drew and kenny lofton, i could not bite my tounge

i can never bite my tounge, particularily in matters of the chicago cubs.

if you remember correctly it was i who brought my broom to dodger stadium last year in preperation of the sweep that the cubbies performed on LA last season, and yes bitter dodger fans told me where i could put that broom.

so when the huge monster of a man joked but didnt joke that i was in the wrong elevator, very clearly i rebutted with

oh you mean this isnt the winner’s elevator?

to which everyone, from youngest to oldest said

ooooooooooh.

and yes i plan on returning to chavez ravine tomorrow to reintroduce the faithful to my broom.

everything wrong again + amy + newyorkology + jay larson

there on the left. apparently that was his birthday party 11 years ago. is it Jag’s birthday today? if it is happy birthday bro. i have no idea where we are in frisco in that pic but youre lookin good and im lookin drunk. plus i dont know any of those people.

i also got a very nice email from someone in toronto who didnt sign their name who is in los angeles today.

LA is gorgeous right now thanks to all the rain clearing out all the crap and all the hills being green and all the boobs settling into their bikini tops.

tonight ive got tickets to see the Cubs and the Dodgers. i will be about two rows behind the left fielder but not in the bleachers because they dont serve $10 beers there. ticket prices are outta control, btw. a man used to be able to take his wife and kids to a game and buy drinks and shit for under $100. parking included. four tickets where im sitting set me back $140 and that was not counting the Ticketmassah fees that i avoided by going to the box office during lunch myself.

the only good thing about not having a steady girlfriend is ive been able to save a little cash by not having to by dinners and drinks and flowers and movie tickets. of course that savings totally evaporates by going to sxsw and toronto and vegas and hollywood and this weekend im going back to austin for a wedding now that ive found a housesitter. but yeah baseball ticket prices suck. remind me to go to scalpers and rip them off from now on.

before i post this sweet email from a canadian in california, let me thank these people for posting the Coachella Blog blogad. i toooootally appreciate it!

Science Blog,
matt welch,
raymi,
Just a Girl,
Krista,
Bunny,
bicycle mark,
raspberry,
the holywriter,
sigh club,
moxie,
david

if any of you have blog ads and you’d like to allow us to advertise for free on your blogad strip, email me and i will owe you one, or i will give you a two-week ad on my page, or we’ll work something out. but muchas gracias to the good kids above!

ok heres the email i got today that made me smile.

hi tony:
when i think of california, i think of you.
while visiting your beautiful state for the first time, i felt the need to
write and let you know what an amazing time i’m having here.
i’m visiting a sexy, incredible man who recently moved here from toronto.
in the past 24 hours, i’ve seen the freaks on the walk of fame, stars in
beverly hills, strolled the pier in santa monica, sampled some awesome
mexican food, watched lizards and hummingbirds go about their business,
spied 3 year olds surfing, grown more than a few freckles, and as i write
you i’m sitting on a huge deck sipping my fourth beck’s while taking
advantage of a free wireless internet connection.
i love it here. the people are so friendly it’s borderline creepy…and i
thought us canadians were the warm ones.
i’ve read you giving canadians props many many times, and thought i should
return the love.
aside from spending time with my favourite person, i didn’t expect to have
such a great time here. call me a smug torontonian, but i thought i knew
where it was at.
so big thanks to sunny california and your people for being so warm.
today i was told i would never pass for a native to SoCal, which made me
smile because it doesn’t matter. i’ve been welcomed with such open arms.
this is a fucking cool place.
you’re a lucky man.

thinking about the oklahoma cannibal who worked at carls jr. so maybe its best to call him the carls jr cannibal.

because it was a holiday weekend, or maybe because Blogger doesnt really shut down blogs unless it had kiddie porn or pure lies, lots of people read kevin underwood’s blog and then… blogged about it.

several people mentioned that he (not pictured) had fallen for a recent divorcee and was going to move to california to be with her. when that fell through he pretty much gave up on chasing girls.

he didnt kiss a girl until he was 22, and he may still be a virgin. at one point he even mentioned that sure he could use a girlfriend because he would like sex, but he also wanted one for human contact – something he seemed to have scarce amount of.

Even masturbation sounds boring. Of course, that lost its fun years ago. Now it’s basically just a habit.

To once again put it bluntly, I really need some pussy. Actually, it’s more than that. I don’t just need sex. I need a girlfriend, a real relationship. Love, and shit like that. Even simpler than that, I just need to be touched, and I don’t mean in a sexual way. But no one ever touches me, and I don’t touch them. Even the simplest touch is the hardest thing for me. I dream of being hugged.

which made me think, chicks really need to start putting out. life is so f’ed up. all these pretty boys and jocks and lunkheads and morons get laid all the time. the giotti boys step out of a limo and all these girls scream their heads off.

meanwhile theres all these dudes who are far too shy for their own good. not horrible looking fellas. underwood is an asshole, no question, but that fucker coulda gotten laid. he was creepy looking, but maybe only in retrospect, and maybe only because no chick ever gave him any play. if i was a reporter who was granted an interview, i wouldnt ask him why he killed that sweet little girl, but seriously how many chicks did he ask out over his life.

so this is what im thinking, chicks need to take one for the team at least once a year. maybe we oughtta make a day out of it. for one day instead of making out with that dude in the stonewashed jeans or the highlights in his hair or the dude with the fake bake and the department store calvin klein, flirt with the dude at jiffy lube, or at carls jr and if he asks for your number give it to him, and when he calls you go out with him, and when he gets all nervous at the door give him a good kiss and grab his ass or something.

they say that babies will die if they dont get touched. animals need to be pet. even homes need to be lived in or they’ll fall apart.

clearly this carls jr dude went to work, came home, sat in his room, dicked around on the web and never made a move on anyone. and when he did it was twisted and violent and horrible. and when he did and got caught he didnt even care because what did he have to live for? so he could flip some bacon avacado chicken burgers for $7 an hour?

maybe good friday should be the day where if youre a virgin dude you can make out with hot chicks. maybe on good friday virgins can get lap dances for free at strip clubs. or super shy dudes. or dudes whove worked at fast food places for more than five years.

i know this guy was one on a million, that there arent that many people who dont get touched and then snap and kill and then try to eat people, but we need to lower the odds of this shit happening again. its just too painful.

i know that one reason that im as confident about life as i am is my ridiculously good luck with the ladies, but fellas i have to tell you this – its luck, yes, but your “luck” increases the more you put yourself out there and actually ask for the sale. sure i get rejected. i get rejected all the time, but i also get said yes to. i believe it was lee trevino the golfer who said, “the more i practice the luckier i get”.

boys you have to practice talking to girls, you have to practice getting rejected, and you have to practice asking for the sale. anyone can talk to a pretty girl, but it is tough to ask them on a date, and then for a kiss, and then for some roadhead, and then for a threesome. but just like anything if you dont practice its not going to happen. you have to practice riding a bike, and you have to be cool with falling down – in front of people.

once i tried to kiss a girl and she totally leaned back as my eyes were closed and my lips were pursed. you know how embarrassing that is? swing and a miss. but the good news is you have unlimited swings on this shit. ive tried to kiss a girl for an hour once. once i tried for two hours straight. once i was in a car with a girl and i spent two and a half hours begging, daring, browbeating a girl into a kiss and when she gave it up and asked how it was i was all eh. and she kissed me again.

you must try. you must try all the time. you will get rejected. you will have your heart broken. but you will also get kissed, and blown, and banged.

but ladies, we need your help. especially the shy boys. im not saying you have to give me love, ive had plenty, but once a year you really should give some to those who need it most. yes he will stalk you. yes he will probably put a nice gift box on your doorstep with a long long long love letter in the basket. but sometimes it really is better to have lusted and lost than to never gotten a finger stunk up at all.

and yes ive lost my mind.

kali + jessica + jessica