now is the time to stoke your mother.

who loves you. who brought you into this world. who is probably worrying about you as she brags about you.

this is monday night and if you’re like me you dont live with your momma any more. you live away from her. and if youre really like me you live far away from her… unfortunately.

which is why now is the time to get on amazon or (i wish) or or wherever you do your mother’s day shopping and get on the ball, like im fixin to. not just because your momma deserves it, but if you do it now you wont have to pay all that extra cash to the fed ex man, you can, instead give it to the woman who carried you around in her belly for nearly a year. and then wiped your ass. and then put up with your shit.

my mom was the perfect mother. she paid attention to me and she left me alone. she tried to raise me right and didnt freak out much when i rebelled. she cleaned my room. she bought me drums. she bought me a saxamaphone. she bought me a guitar.

she drove me to every baseball football basketball soccer cub scout bowling softball hockey and rollerskating event that mr or mrs downing couldnt drive us to.

she taught me about computers she taught me about the russians she taught me how to play piano (pictured) she taught me how to sew and she taught me how to fry an egg in bacon grease.

in the mornings she would often pick out my afro and at night she would listen to me go on about whatever nonsense i was into as i would shoot nerf hoops in her bedroom.

and she had to deal with my sister. which shes still dealing with.

life isnt fair which is why she wasnt given millions when she was forced to take an early retirement at motorola after working there for a hundred thousand years. life isnt fair which is why she had a slacker son who should have definately bought her that house on the hill by now.

and Lord knows life isnt fair which is why of all the blogs in the world her son had to be the author of the sometimes disgusting, never spell checked, often insane if not drunk, all too honest for being totally fake, busblog.

how many nights does she click around the web and ask herself, “why couldnt my son have been matt welch instead?”

because then you couldnt brag about your boy’s crossover dribble.

so do your mom a favor and do yourself a favor and go over to wherever you get the crap that you get your mom and get it right now. as in right now. as in right now. not later. now. now fucker. dude you can even pack your mom her own sees candies.

so go now. kbye. + + +

can we talk about the sopranos yet?

ok good. last nights sopranos wasnt as gay as the last few episodes have been – not that theres anything wrong with that – but there were some heavy duty male bonding moments of dudes putting their heads on each others shoulders and telling them they loved them. which in some circles is gay.

the sopranos is obviously trying to shock us in ways other than thru violence and nudity and i think thats a good thing as we subscribe to hbo to be shocked and to watch the envelope get pushed.

but my favorite line was when tony walked into the bathroom and, in telling his associate that he was fucking up, said “youre doing a heck of a job, brownie.”

ah pop culture. ah bushie. ah brownie.

crazy thing about brownie is that history might be far more kind to him than it will be to bush, but the question is, how will history judge those who not only voted for the president but did it twice and then defended his nonsense in places like the blogosphere?

hopefully it will be as ruthless as this administration has been to human and civil rights.

watched a lot of tv this weekend because i needed to recharge my batteries. watched two episodes of entourage. watched mcgloughlin group and this week with george stephenopolous.

funny thing about george. in trying not to be liberal he comes across as phony and stiff and almost too much of an asswipe. only guy who can play the moderat perfectly is john mcgloghlin. damn i wish i could spell his name right. but he can talk to tony blankley that old fat faker so well and he even smiles earnestly when he calls on pat buchannon and poor emily clift has to shreik to get a word in edgewise. that show is so overlooked and so good. but have you noticed that john never looks at emily when he says his final trademark “bye bye”? i think thats cuz he has a crush on her. you dont look at the person you heart. little known fact.

now i know lots of you are chrisians and have an ongoing relationship with the Lord. our pal Karisa got an invite to a Playboy party at the mansion and because her boyfriend is always out of town, the odds of me being her guest are extremely high.

so today karisa sent in some photographs of herself because somehow that was required, and now we are waiting with baited breath to hear the results. so heres what i need you to do. i need you to pray. pray to your God. pray to all the Gods. hef is 80 freaking years old. my dream is to go to the mansion before he dies. i can think of no better date to go to the mansion with than karisa and i can think of no better time than the summertime when the playmates will be in their summertime best.

hell i might just start working out this second so i can get my 6-pack in shape, but the buzznet kids might get uncomfortable. so tonight i might do some curls and some pull ups and some sit ups. too bad karisa doesnt kiss girls because what a better way to trick a playmate into kissing you than by saying “ok i can get karisa to kiss you but only if you kiss me first.”

and you know how they say “now i can die fulfilled because i just did _____”? i could totally die fulfilled if i went to a real Playboy party at the mansion with hef and karisa.

damn straight.

so pray people. pray like youve never prayed before.

ethan the mighty + alistair was just there + bastard

three years ago

today i wrote better

today im jealous of everyone but me. bum in the back of the bus today looking like a black george bush, bald, im even jealous of him cuz he gets to take the 21 down to santa monica beach this morning and i dont. and just as i thought that he walks up to the front of the bus, a good twenty minutes into the ride and asks for a transfer and he gets one.

you’re not supposed to get a transfer like that. you can only get one right when you pay your fare. he pulled up his pants a little and hopped back to the back of the bus with me and the drunken mexican cuz he knew his good luck.

i was jealous of the drunken mexican this morning too. one because he was drunk and i couldnt be. two because he got to ride the 21 down to santa monica beach today and i had to come in to work. c because he got to crack open a can of beer as the bus was putting on the air brakes and everyone must have heard that thing opening but nobody knew it was a beer since it was cleverly disguised with a little brown paper bag. i didn’t look at him out of jealousy until i almost got to my stop and then i noticed that he had todays new york post. how does he get todays new york post! that shit cost a buck out here.

im jealous of anyone who has a date this weekend. im jealous of everyone in corvettes. im jealous of everyone who actually gets respected in their chosen professions. im jealous of anyone who has a viable career.

im jealous of the guy who pawed my true love last night. a guy who doesn’t share any of her beliefs be them politics or rock music. its the politics that steams me up the most. even the fortune teller told her that this wasnt the man for her but she doesn’t care. none of you girls care. only girls who want me are the ones who know im the wrong man for them and they keep on paying attention to me even though the sign says closed.

my heart is a flower, its wilting though. they say that some flowers will bloom when theres no water. this flower gets pissed off and sometimes that coloration is beautiful but right now its just weepy and sad and chris taught me that if you prick a droopy tulip or gerber near the top of the stalk it will prop itself right back up, but this stalk knows that trick and just needs a little sip, not a prick. definitely not a prick.

tomorrow night i want to get with this girl i used to do. dont be so surprised, i want to get with every girl i used to do. even though the wind in the willows whisper to keep moving forward, little tone keeps saying lets go back. how far back. way back. and i wouldn’t mind the new ones but the new ones lie. and they keep lying. only place you can lie is in your blog, new ones. and even though the old ones lie too, theyre familiar lies that we’ve heard before. i’ll be back at a reasonable time. god i love you tony. god you’re so big. god you’re so great.

and tick tock it dont stop. even the sun isnt sure about rising this morning. even the heart isnt sure about beating tonight. met a girl yesterday who looks like that chick who played frida, but minus the unibrow and minus the ed norton boyfriend. she was telling me all this great stuff and then she told me about something that she heard in church last sunday and i asked her what church she was at and she told me and i said shit i used to go to that church all the time. but it was cold yesterday and she just had dranken an iced coffee and wanted to end our little meet and greet before i could ask her on a date this weekend.

how about a little saturday night mass, hot chick, i was about to ask her. only i would ask a girl to church on a first date. and only i would think that theres absolutely nothing wrong with going for it after ice cream and movies and drinks. and only i would get said yes to. unfortunately only i would let opportunities slip away like sand in the hourglass, these are the los angeles times.

evil asad + carmen + nk + phallusy + new replacements song