dear britney

you shouldnt be crying. but i know why you are.

its cuz life isnt fair.

trust me, as a cub fan i understand how life isnt fair.

youre supposed to be on top of the world. youre rich, youre famous, youve got a cute little kiddo, youve got tons of fans.

i know it sucks that your man is a loser. i know you dont wanna divorce your babys daddy. i know you wanna drive your own car and carry your own son.

but baby none of this is working out.

i know youre worried that if someone else carries your baby you’ll look like a bad mom but you know what, fuck those people.

heres what you need to do and the first thing is hire me. i’ll work for you for $50k a year cuz thats all i need. i dont even need that. i’ll work for you for $40k if you let me use your hot tub a few times a week. and the laundry facilities.

i will be your new driver. you need one. im a great driver. ive never had an accident. ive also lived in LA for a gazillion years.

as your driver i will also be your voice of reason because clearly whoever is supposed to be that for you has laringitious. or however you spell it. theyre fucking up.

if i see you are about to go out to street with little baby sean on your hip i will say baby, i mean britney, put that Bjorn on Byourself, Beyotch. its why it was bjinvented.

if i see that you wont wear it and you have a drink in your hand i will carry it for you until we get into the car. then i will put you in the back seat and i will hand you the drink and i will wait until everyones strapped in and then i will pull away from the curb and drive at a reasonable pace.

we wont run from the ‘ratzi. theyre annoying but all they want is your picture. in fact you and i will start a little web site where we will take a picture of you and the boy three times a day. we will flood the market with britney pics and theirs wont be worth as much. hell, we will have picture day at your house a few times a month where sick and poor kids come over and take hundreds of pics

ok maybe not sick kids since youre pregnant, but fans, nice fans, young fans and their moms.

we will also not have you go to the grocery store any more for awhile. i know you like going to the ralphs in malibu but you know what, no more of that. i will get your groceries. i know you want a normal life but who are you fucking kidding? you dont have a normal life. normal people arent worth millions. normal people dont have photographers chasing them around. normal people dont have tony pierce as their driver.

why do you wanna live in malibu anyways? theres only one grocery store out there. theres only one major road. youre sorta trapped out there. you wanna be punk rock? move to compton. i’ll still be your driver, and i bet you a buck that you’ll have far less paparatzi hanging out front of your house if you lived on Compton Blvd.

when you slipped the other day you said, “thats why i want a gun.” you wont need a gun if you lived in Compton. your neighbors would take care of the riff raff. trust me.

now regarding kfed. im not a fan of divorce. i believe that marriage is something that you have till death do you part. so heres what we do. again, we move everyone to Compton. kfed too. one day when he goes to the studio or whereever the fuck he goes, we change the code for the gate. then we let the neighbors take care of the scrawny wigger.

till death do you part-y.

im not saying that compton is a violent place. im just saying that if something happened to the ratzi or kevin, nobody would question it. then you and i and the babies drive back up to malibu and you give me a little raise and let me drive you around for a few more years.

dont worry im not secretly hitting on you. it just breaks my heart to see you cry.

references available upon request,


seamus + david + mlah + ben

a year ago today life was so different

who doesnt love chicken? she doesnt. not only a virgin but a vegan. a virgan. a vegin. she puts no meat in her mouth america. none. i was lucky to get my tounge in there. she had a cute spaghetti strap shirt on that said i eat nothing with a face and i argued that i dont have much of a face any more, just bored expressions. she had mercy on me. now, how that got her to spend the night is beyond me but we slept tangled like dna strands but my blue balls have never been so blue. but i report to you from the front that a sleepover date with a vegin is better than no date at all. and even though my fantasy baseball reliever just gave up a two run homer in the bottom of the ninth i have a stupid smile and reason to believe.

the day started off right when i finally opened my week’s mail around noon after breakfast. there was an expense check that i had forgotten that i had submitted, there was a book from a very nice forgeiner who asked to remain anonymous but swedish princesses deserve their privacy so there you go baby, and then i got a small package from one of my favorite people who sent me the new white stripes cd get behind me satan and the new frank black cd honeycomb.

ive gotta open my mail more often.

sadly i saw an invoice from my dentist. and im 60 days past due! for some reason i thought they were tapping into my credit card each month. i told them that it was cool to do that since i didnt know when i was gonna be back there, but i guess there were some extra charges or something? whatev, hes got a good place there so the checks in the mail doc.

three stamps i must get tomorrow morning.

did as much as i could with a virgan after breakfast and she pulled out this stinky green bud that i was all whoah baby whered a pretty little girl like you get something as crazy as that? it was dark green with crazy little purple hairs and shades of yellow near its core which sparkled in the morning light.

people like to give me things she giggled and dug through her bag for a pipe and pulled out this shiny silver lipstick thing that turned into a smoking device. she packed it, swiped the lighter next to the candle and offered me the first hit but i passed since i thinking im going to probably get drug tested at this company i applied for. office depot doesnt accept druggies i told her.

instead i licked her cute little perky nipple and said thats how you get high off life baby and my head sunk down due to gravity i swear and entered a sweet darkness that no man has ever reached and i was there for a milisecond as she was distracted with her paraphenalia and had no free hands to defend her bunker and i searched for a whiff of innocence but thats the funny thing about aromas, sometimes pot smoking angels have none

not even when they pass out on the couch before the sixth inning in front of the cubs sox game on the big screen

a game the cubs would barely win thanks to the complete game effort of mr mark prior who probably doesnt smell like chicken soup which is my aroma currently as its hot in this bungalow at two twenty six on may twenty second i have no ac no ceiling fan no nothing except a scientificly adjusted assortment of windows and doors some of which are open to allow in the shade-cooled air to enter, and some which are closed to stop the bright sun-warmed air to come in.

but even though its warm she sleeps beneath a mexican blanket not at all knowing that pizza pie has been delivered with her favorite toppings and even though mine has double, obviously, her half has no cheese.

chad is doing something unique

its rainy here in LA.

i think its cuz the caged bird isnt singing.

caged bird is disappointed in my taste in girls.

one day someone super cool is there. next day someone way too young is there. next day someone super annoying is there. next day someone way too dull is there with hot clothes.

caged bird is a judger.

yesterday there was an annoying chick followed by a hot clothes chick. im a very odd person. i dont care how hot your clothes are unless i like you. and i dont care how young you are or how flat your belly is or how you pretend like you dont know that youre flashing me panty.

im odd because sometimes id rather be blogging.

ive met some girls over the span of my lifetime who have really fucked up the bell curve. if you have seen half the chicks that come through my place youd be all omg and trust me theres a small part of me that is saying omg. not that small part. that part is old. and tired. sometimes i think that part would rather be blogging too.

ask this one girl i used to date. hell ask any of them. twice a day i want to blog. if i dont get 20 minutes to write something down i dont care what the chick is wearing or promising or alledging, i just want to write. its very much like taking a dump. and the room smells when im done, too.

ok so the sopranos were on last night and i get the east coast feed of hbo and annoying girl hadnt seen the sopranos since two years ago, so i figured that she would be able to get filled in pretty fast but i was wrong. all she kept doing was asking questions. whos that guy whos that lady. i would tell her and she wouldnt believe me.

why ask me questions if youre not going to believe me.

so i played a little game with her. i told her that every time she was being annoying or didnt believe me she had to take off an item of clothing. before we knew it she was naked. so i said ok, now if youre annoying or dont believe me you have to open the drapes and then walk around my building.

the neighbors loved that one.

then she had to get on top of my coffee table, then she had to order pizza. then she had to wear my hats. then she had to speak in a french accent.

what happened was instead of being disgusted and frustrated with me she had the time of her life and is now super in love with me.

sadly im so not into her or her size 0 jeans that she somehow left behind. WHO LEAVES JEANS BEHIND!~?!?>!?

speaking of leaving shit behind. someone else left behind some earrings and some booty shorts. everyone leaves shit behind. karisa says its because they want me to think of them or return it. all i know is people ask me about it.

q. whose fugly earrings are these?
a. oh theyre not yours?
q. um, NO
a. i guess theyre mine then.
q. you dont even have pierced ears.
a. then i guess theyre my maid’s.
q. i bet. well tell your other whore that she has bad taste.
a. baby thats not how you win my heart.
q. im just saying.
a. youre just being annoying.
q. whose are they?
a. if i knew i’d tell you. ive got nothing to hide.
q. karisas?
a. karisa hasnt been over here in years baby. and shes practically married.
q. i hate you.
a. you cant say you hate me when youre topless wearing a funny hat.
q. look at me in the eyes, i hate you tony pierce.
a. baby i just met you like an hour ago. you cant be jealous. its not allowed.
q. ive known you virtually for a year. ive read all your books. i know you better than you know YOURSELF!
a. then you know that i want to blog right now.
q. good then blog.
a. and if you know me, you know that i like for girls to watch porn and touch themselves when i blog.
q. say what?
a. you heard me. porn is in the shoe box marked XXX.

and once again, be careful for what you ask for because some girls will actually do what you request. and then unfortunately then you have a turned on girl who really wants you NOW and you havent even started blogging yet. which is why, i suppose, God invented the rerun.