especially when it comes from adults. i can understand it from children who dont know any better, but if you walk around this globe long enough you see that people with fancy cars or big houses or tons of money or great clothes have just as much difficulties enjoying this ride as those without.

both johnny cash and bob dylan have recorded a song called satisfied mind that starts off “How many times have you heard someone say / “If I had his money, I could do things my way?”/ Little they know that it’s so hard to find / One rich man in ten with a satisfied mind.”

the tune isnt about the rich having more troubles than the non rich, its about how everyone has a struggle with inner peace, real inner peace.

you might see a pretty girl walking down the street seemingly without a care in the world, or a skateboarder doing a sweet grind by the beach, and we can all hope that they’re in the spiritual place that they want to be, but everyone has wants, everyone is looking for bigger and better, anyone who says theyve got it all and theyre stoked is probably not being totally honest with you or themselves.

i do my best to be honest with you here, so when i lay out the things that i would like, dont think that its because im bummed with what i have. at my age there are tons of things that i should have: new car, big mortgage, kids, pretty wife, sassy interns, gray hair, a couple of dogs.

but the funny thing about life is, its that life gets in the way, and instead of one pretty wife you end up with a dozen pretty girlfriends and a half dozen pretty girls who just want to get naked with you, instead of a mortgage you end up with a killer apartment with cheap rent, instead of a new car you end up with a used car that runs perfectly, instead of a couple of dogs you have a couple of blogs.

so when johnny sings how he hopes to leave this old world with a satisfied mind it makes you think that hes talking about something deeper than what goes on during the board game of Life.

anyone can choose to look around and be unsatisfied with what they have, but i try to keep a positive attitude about things. would i like to be in the technorati 100 one day? of course. but im completely satisfied being in the top 400 out of 34 million blogs. would i like to have a steady girlfriend who wears a i heart tony gstring to bed, definitely, but in the meantime i will settle for dating girls who dont believe in underwear at all.

one of the best things that los angeles has taught me is that the american dream is vastly overrated. the concept of birth school work death is fine for lots of the people from where i grew up, but i bet you if they had to do it over again some might have chosen to stray a tad from the beaten path.

little did i know but there has always been something in my heart that has been secretly trying to convince me to learn how to replace work with rock. there have been a few years where i was able to do that, and “working” for buzznet where ive gotten to travel the world and get paid to cover rock festivals and get to meet lots of you is one step on the path where i want to be.

if you would have asked me in college if i thought id be married by now or kissing swimsuit models and roller girls half my age i would have told you that for sure id be married by the year 2000, definitely. and no way could i have imagined getting paid to do half the shit i get paid to do.

and even though im living the life that i am, and even though ive been pretty content since breaking up with my last live-in girlfriend, i still miss her deeply, even moreso now that shes in deepest darkest africa.

everyone hears the demons in their head that whisper “you should have more by now” and “you deserve what that guy has more than he does” or “you should live on that hilltop, not them”

i think that what will keep you happier though is to appreciate all the magic that sprinkles down into your life each day and savor it after it’s gone, but most importantly i think its in your best interest to life your life, not carol brady’s, not leave it to beavers, not your college roommate’s. your life. because your life has its own agenda that might not include all the trappings found in highend preppy east coast catalogues.

deep down i have a hope that ive been the one deciding my path in life, but secretly i think someone way cooler has been nudging me to where i am now, which is why i was so satisfied simply riding the bus than having to drive a car. however roadhead has been a very pleasant bonus.

who am i jealous of? anyone who gets to regularily see the cubs play while drinking old style in the bleachers at wrigley field.

raymi + fil + flagrant + whatshername

now we know why, because lawbreaking goes back at least two generations

kudos to wolf blitzer for somehow knowing to ask this question

– or sadder – than what the honorable republican from ohio wrote in his own comments in response to my post.

so here it is in its entirety. my friends, i give you joshua martin who says he “could have been” me if he hadnt gotten married and knocked up his wife. and wait till you read what he has to say about you:

Tony’s response (see first link above) is typical. He honed in on the fact that this blog doesn’t receive very many comments. This is true and is also because my writing style is the type that ends discussions rather than begins them. I learned a long time ago that silence following your gig is a good thing–it means that its sinking into the gray matter of your audience or that they didn’t care or weren’t listening in the first place–either way, even better for the person on stage. Here is a man whose entire sum worth is measured by his blog’s place on the Technorati 100 list (of which it like 256)–it’s just pathetic.

And he of course goes back to attacking my politics and how Ohio sucks because we hate black people and elected Bush twice, blah blah blah…

But the bottom line is that there is one of us who was accepted into creative writing school. There is one of us who earned the respect of other serious writers by putting their work through the fire of workshopping and having it come out cleaner, better, sharper. There is one of us who has been able to maintain a long-term monogamous relationship that has resulted in children and a stable family base. There is one of us that has maintained a steady career by developing business and networking skills on which we can stake our personal fortune.

And then there is one of us who has huddled up in a little room in front of a little computer for five years, eschewing proper grammar because we probably wouldn’t get it right in the first place, and trying to convince the world (successfully in some cases) that what we had to say was worthy of being reread in ten years.

See, I could have been this man had I not made the choice to accept the love of a great woman into my heart, to settle down, have a family, and vote Republican in the ’00 and ’04 elections. I could probably have 50,000 page loads a month also if I were willing to let my heart wither into a little black shrub that I would wear around my neck as a pathetic badge of honor in place of real talent. I’d probably be able to dump every piece of shit thought onto the page, jumble them together, and try to convince everyone that I knew how to tell a good story.

But I’m not like that.

I believe in giving back to the world around me–sometimes it’s advice, sometimes it’s criticim, and sometimes it’s both barrels of the shotgun. Sometimes it’s enough to stand up and speak your piece. Sometimes you have to shout the other guy down. But sometimes you just have to pull out a can of spraypaint, tag the other guy with a red “X” and say to the crowd, “This guy’s an asshole to the core of his soul–don’t go here!”

I started reading the Busblog because I wanted to learn how Tony did it–how he amassed a core of readers. But what I’ve come to learn is that I would rather have ten readers capable of interacting intelligently with what I’m writing than 5,000 yes men, perverts, and social misanthropes daily who did nothing but help to further solidify my already massive and immoveable ego.

I’ve said it privately, now I’m saying it publicly. There is nothing more for me to learn from this man’s writing style or his blog.

Get thee behind me…

washington post + los angeles times + new york times + la weekly + laist + ethan the mighty

even on the chat they have very sweet accents. i wonder what ours sound like to her.

if you were lucky enough to see the double overtime playoff game that the clippers barely lost youd be as exhausted now as i am. the refs blew it for them by calling teen phenom shaun livingston out of bounds when he was still in the air but when you play six quarters someones going to fuck up and at that point steve nash was even turning the ball over so of course the refs were fatigued as well.

jack nicholson was in the stands sitting next to james l brooks. billy christal was being annoying, penny marshall had also made the short trip to phoenix. they were definately entertained more than at any laker game this year, for the exception of the 81 point kobeshow,

and even though ive seen enough steve nash now for my liking, you can bet that there will be a game seven in this series because elton brand has a chance to make a name for himself if he can get there. however its good to see sam cassell remind the league that hes not dead yet.

i went to the doctor today and he told me he had good news and bad news. the good news was i wasnt going to die. the bad news was i wouldnt be able to go into the office until thursday. i told him that they could probably live with having me work from home until then.

we talked about blogging and its amazing to see people who know very little about this weirdo little fad get excited when they hear all the things that have happened for me through blogging. just like when i told my dentist, my new doctor became fascinated and took notes.

the nurse however was intrigued more by my blood pressure which was both too low and too high. i know very little about biology but apparently you have two numbers. one was higher than normal and the other was lower. i told her that it was my yin fighting with my yang.

she said how so.

i said my yin wants me to be a preacher and my yang wants me to be a porn director.

she said so what will you choose?

i told her that i will choose to work for buzznet in the day and volunteer with the xbi at night fighting crimes in the shadows of the city of angels.

she said that she isnt a doctor but perhaps i should choose one path and just one.

ah but if life was that simple.

for some reason i want to move to minnesota and be a high school english teacher but i dont dare do anything crazy like that because my rent is so cheap here in hollywood.

its like when george castanza got a really great parking spot near jerrys house and didnt want to ever drive his car again.

the way real estate prices are here in LA id be a fool to ever move away because i would easilly have to pay double for something not even close to how nice this pad is, and i wouldnt have the 24/7 security that i now enjoy.

or the good vibes.

or this little blogging closet.

or the great memories.

or the ridiculously good luck.

plus the cold is for suckers.

since ive lived here ive only gotten older dumber and fatter but the hot babes just keep parading through and the busblog keeps on rolling. it made me wonder the other day what cub fans would say if it turned out that the real curse of the cubbies wasnt the billy goat but the friendly confines of wrigley field.

fucking sox didnt win again until they destroyed their glorious park and moved across the street.

would cub fans sacrifice their hallowed grounds for a championship ring?

me, i wouldnt. if i cant see the cubs win it all while playing at wrigley id rather not see them win, because having them do it in some foreign, modern, replica of heaven wouldnt be at all heavenly.

speaking of which, the sopranos had me looking away a shit-ton on sunday. we get it, the fat fucker’s gay.

sweaty + enter the gray area + xTx wrote the poem of the day

if he thinks someone is stealing the signs he might put two fingers down and adjust his mask, the adjustment means “fuck what i threw down, its gonna be a fastball.”

some catchers just throw down any fingers so the pitcher needs to count how many pumps the catcher made, if he throws down fingers just once its a fastball, twice its a curve.

me and jeanine do the same thing on the phone because its tapped due to some counterintelligence that we havent all sorted out yet.

we do it with “i love yous.” lets say we need to rendevous at the Rustic. well, thats everyones favorite place so that is one exchange of “i love you’s”

me: i love you
she: i love you too, see you next week.

that means, “fine, see you at the rustic ASAP.”

if she wants to meet at The Drawing Room across the street from the Rustic, that would be the second option so she’ll throw in another “i love you” at the end of the convo.

me: thanks for calling, pretty girl, i love you.
she: i love you too.
me: ok, bye.
she: i love you a lot.
me: i love you a lot too, bye.

and so on.

just like in baseball, you can wipe off a sign real easy by touching your cheek or rubbing your left leg with your right hand.

me and jeanine do it the simple way by sarcasticly inserting a “but secretly i hate you,” added with a laugh.

yesterday she called and wanted to meet me on the wesssside at my favorite bar over there Del’s Saloon.

but since i dont live anywhere near there any more, it takes a lot of “pumps” to get it out.

me: ok, sexy secretary. i love you.
she: right on nice boy, i love you too.
me: ok bye.
she: but i really love you.
me: but i really love you too.
she: as in love love, but not in the way that you’re hoping, but i love you.
me: yes, i love you in a filthy way.
she: your filthy way is sweet, thats why i love you.
me: ok bye.
she: but i love you anyway.
me: thats a whole lotta love. i love you too.
she: like whitney said when bobby brought her home the oregon buds, i will always love you.
me: yeah me too.
she: ok, i love you.
me: ok, see you at the gospel brunch sunday at the house of blues.
she: definately! but be there on time this time, mister.
me: you were the one who was late.
she: hehehe yeah, i know.

that means, get your ass over to Del’s pronto.

when we got there she told me that she loved it when i put pictures of monkeys on my site. which wasnt code for nothing.

but this is: hey jeanine, check out this crazy canadian who loves, i mean loves fountains— thanks sks.

a year ago today i made a photo essay

the other day so we could go to the dodger game, he looked at my desk, looked at my inexpensive computer, accidentally looked at my pay stub that was just sitting there, and later asked me a question that i get asked every now and then and i never know how to take it.

he asked, do those guys, you know, know who you are?

so badly i wanted to say bro i dont even know who i am if youre going to put it that way.

people ask me if im famous, or if i know that im famous or they freak out if i link to them and its extremely nice, dont get me wrong, but its like being one of the best dungeon and dragon players – but not the best. i could totally understand if i was number one, but im not even number 250. im like number 369. with a bb.

i get offers to sell out the busblog and i think about it. i get offers to sell out tonypierce.com and i really think about that. someone offered to pay most of my rent per month for something that i dont even know is a bad thing. it could be, and if it turned out to be i could stop it after a few weeks. i dont know. its all very confusing. its like if someone asked me to sell them some of my Magic The Gathering cards, or crazier still, autograph some.

i bring this up because right now theres a girl who i never met, and have only talked on the phone a few times, flying out here from the midwest to spend the weekend with me. will it be sexual? who knows. these things usually are though. will it be fun? who knows. sometimes theyre fun. sometimes theyre painfully awkward.

this was a winner of a contest from my favorite magazine, Black Webmaster. sometimes people will ask me if i will autograph a book i wrote or something and it will get auctioned and the money will go to charity. and because i love Black Webmaster i probably said yes to anything they said, especially “win a date with tony pierce”. at first they were going to get put up at a local motel, then Black Webmaster found themselves in some financial issues since i think Michael Jackson bought them and now hes in difficulties so theres not a lot of money coming through.

and then the girl wrote me and shes not bad looking and she said that she is really afraid of the neighborhood where the motel is and i said wheres the motel and she said i think its right by your house. and i said yeah in that case id be afraid of the neighborhood too. so i just told my friends at BM that she could stay with me and i would just sleep on the couch.

when i stopped doing acid a long time ago i substituted that reckless behavior with new reckless behavior and if im going to die, id rather it be at the hands of some crazed fan with pert knockers than from driving a hippie van on liquid from a phish show.

so theres good news and bad news of being king nerd. the good news is the person who won the contest won it because she answered the most tony pierce trivia questions correctly, which means shes read my blog for a while and knows that im a dope and hopefully has very low expectations. the bad news is if she has read my blog for a while she knows only the things that i have chosen to write about. meaning she doesnt know me at all. she knows the busblog tony. real tony is shorter fatter and has hair growing out of all sorts of fucked up places.

and his trunk smells like standing water.

so i have to go to the car wash and vaccuum that shit and make it to LAX and try to be charming and play the little game that i like to call stopwatch. stopwatch includes entering the house, my house, and starting the stopwatch and then seeing how long it takes till the girl gets naked.

previous contestants of this game have lasted on average twenty minutes.

and i promise you if youve met me in real life you would ask yourself the same question that i ask – how is any of this at all even slightly possible?

i will give you one hint. if you’re playing fun games like stopwatch – even if no one else knows youre playing – someone is bound to win.

blogstock tomorrow night at formosa in west hollywood – get to buy chad a drink, sounds like he needs one

but i havent. and ive only had one first girlfriend. her name is mary and today is her birthday.

mary and i met in the suburbs of america. she was tall and blonde with blue eyes and a huge smile and i was not tall not blonde and starstruck. i was afraid to even talk to her, she seemed like a goddess from another planet. she definately didnt belong in our town, and sure enough she was only visiting.

her friend was one of those weird lame chicks who you really shouldnt blow off because those girls always seem to have one super fine best friend. in this case that friend was mary.

im not exactly sure how i got her number, but i did and soon we were talking on the phone three times a week, and then every day and then twice a day.

this went on for years.

even though she said i was her best friend, i didnt believe it. even though she was clearly into me, i was young, i was in high school, what the heck did i know. we never went on dates, we hardly did anything together because she lived several towns away and i didnt have a car at 15… legally.

we did go to a few hockey games, we went rollerskating maybe once, but that was it. the only time i ever saw her in person was when her mom drove her back over to our town to hang out with Susie.

one day Mary told me that her dad was going to transfer to california. i was crushed. it wasnt going to happen for a few months, but it was then that i knew i had to make my move. at this point took fate in my own hands and i stole my mothers car and we went to see “Wargames” with matthew broderick. i wanted to make a move on her then but it was such a great film that i didnt know what to do and i got a hug goodnight.

the next week we went to see Steve Martin’s “the man with two brains”. it was funny, but in her driveway tom petty’s “breakdown” came on the radio and i knew it was a sign above saying “feel her up! take off your pants! show her your sausage!” but i was very shy so all i did was lean over and kiss her.

and then i floated home.

when i got there my mom thought i was on drugs. and she grounded me for stealing the car.

a few weeks later mary and i made out on her school’s playground, and then a week later at mine. we did it there because we had some good memories there but bad ones too. so every place where someone did something mean to us or bad, we made out, and it washed away those bad memories. fortunately for me i had a lot of bad shit happen to me. but after a while i only had good memories.

and today as she celebrates her 29th birthday i send this message in a bottle to the girl who will always be in my heart.

moxie + dave + ex playboy bunnies