i had breakfast with a cuban.
i had lunch with a blonde. and then i ate out with a brunette.

this was turning into the best vacation ever until i got a phone call
that brought me one step closer to the best job ever.

damn you satan!

heres two videos. one starring the devil, the other about the mark of the beast.

the cubs however are losing.

im not particularily fond of any of the political parties but i do vote, and i vote for who i want.

with that said im a big fan of bank robbers.

to me theres nothing more courageous than to perform the unthinkable – to rob a place designed to stop robbers.

to me theres no one better than an accomplished bank robber.

however, today i have found a successor to that black throne

a convicted bank robber whose brother breaks him out of the pokey via a helicopter.

ATHENS (Reuters) – A helicopter landed in the middle of the high security Athens Korydallos prison, picked up two prisoners and flew away in a Hollywood-style escape that has left Greek police stunned.

A criminal on the run hijacked the helicopter Sunday to get his brother out of prison, police said. Vassilis Paleokostas, 40, who was serving a 25-year sentence for kidnapping and bank robbery, and an Albanian convict escaped.

“The guards thought it was a surprise inspection by ministry officials and did nothing,” a police official said.

The helicopter pilot, who said he was forced at gunpoint to undertake the mission, flew the inmates to a nearby cemetery and they made their escape on motorbikes. Greek police have launched a manhunt for the convicts. – reuters 6.5.06

should the pants really be around kittens and teens? + donutbuzz + the holywriter + ashley

and by everyone of course i mean karisa.

is that the way you finish a season? she asked rhetorically.

what, tension-filled ridiculous finales arent her cup of tea?

warning more spoilers than i can imagine in one post.

as many as i can remember.

in less than a few weeks my man aj is suddenly a family man, christopher is not only married but dating juliana marguiles and doing drugs with her in movie theatres when hes not banging her, the gayest show in television suddenly became a christmas fable where enemies dont get wacked they suffer heartattacks, and meadow is no where to be found. shes my baby.

i really dont know what happened to this season, she tells me. karisa. not meadow. meadow understands. meadow started the season stripping for us. for me. for america. when meadow was stripping the cubs still had derrick lee. scott mcclellan was still our press secretary. we still trusted our government.

now after all those weeks in the hospital, from pergatory or heaven/hell or whereever tony was during his coma, we’re suppose to think about how gorgeous the sopranos house is? baby you should leave that house as fast as you can. why do you think meadows in la with my unemployed ass? because even east hollywood is safer than that house. so dance little girl dance.

and who can complain about a season finale that starts with a frozen decapitated head in the first minute? im starting to think that some people have been spoiled.

or what about that sweet line that “the shah” tells his girlfriend right before that building explodes, “alright sweetheart, theres something ive gotta get straight between us.” followed seconds later with a lawyer explaining, “and… last, transfer of the deed to Jamba Juice.”

remember the penguin movie, when you cried?

that was all in the first six minutes.

of all people, karisa should know that sometimes the best things happen in the first six minutes.

let the past be bygones

your pal billy, whatever happened there.

whatever happened there?

fuck what you meant cocksucker.

the pretenders singing precious.

– i got a son, hector, hes three.
– uh thats cool.

hey no matter what happened, we did make money didnt we?

for some people depression is a result of forced introversion.

do it today, for all our sakes, my wife needs a career.

is anthony soprano like that?

– it’s just weird, you know, being where he’s been.
– he hasnt been anywhere. nothing happened i told you that.
– it doesnt matter, hes been there in his mind.

that was all in the first twenty minutes.

maybe she didnt like the ending of the ending. after tony tells his dying adversary to stop crying. as the little fat boy gets to watch tv but the little girl sophia has to help her mom and the women in the kitchen.

maybe she didnt like anthony sr being introduced to blanca by anthony jr as hes wearing a beret.

hey come here, you, come here.

– shes 10 years older than him and shes puerto rican!
– dominican… maybe. at least shes catholic.

– nice piece, that necklace, where did you get it?
– the mall

love to fin, eh

gage + ming + leah + blank of the day

the chick has finally left and im just keeping my fingers crossed that my tivo gave me a nice rendition of tonights sopranos.

today i drove to get her some chinese and the sign at the bank said 96 degrees. i almost took a picture for you but then i was all, theyre gonna have to take my word on some of this shit.

it was a dry 96.

i hate the air conditioner. the air conditioner tells you that youve fucked up somewhere and you cant enjoy the summer heat while listening to classic rock.

kroq used to be my summer jamz but theyve blown it. im back to the good tunes.

the ones that meant something.

not all chinatown expresses are equal. they all have dishes of chinese food under heatlamps. but some of them are so busy that they have to keep getting fresh food made.

so the one ive been going to lately is on the corner of sunset and highland. right across from hollywood high, which is the reason why its so busy there. where else are you going to get food and a drink for $5? and good food too. and if you get the broccoli beef and carrots youre eating two vegetables right there, so bam youre eating healthy all of a sudden. karisa.

the cubs lost but i just made an incredible trade in one of my fantasy leagues. dude im trading vernon wells and brad lidge and tim wakefield for alphonso sorriano and prior.

ok the sopranos was great. especially the use of the stones classic “moonlight mile”, the last track of the masterpiece Sticky Fingers.

because im a freak when i think of moonlight mile i think of mick taylor.

everyone remembers the blond mop topped brian jones and everyone recognizes the walking skeletor ron wood. but inbetween those two was mick taylor, who many say was the best guitarist the stones ever had

and i would agree.

legend has it that when mick jagger saw that brian jones was dipping into drugs and drink too much the singer went to blues great john mayall to ask him what guitarist out there he thought the stones should replace jones with.

mayall knew guitarists and suggested taylor. not soon after that sitdown jones was found mysteriously dead in his pool and taylor was in.

heres what mick taylor was part of

Sticky Fingers (1971)
Exile on Main Street (1972)
Goats Head Soup (1973)
It’s Only Rock ‘n’ Roll (1974)

and he was on the classic track “Waiting on a Friend” which was later released on Tattoo You.

apparently keefe felt intimidated that taylor could do things like infuse the blues that we hear in Moonlight Mile that breaks away from that basic rock formula that even the stones could find themselves in sometimes.

the amount of pure blues in those four records is just beautiful, “100 years ago”, “can’t you hear me knockin'”, “casino boogie”…

when taylor split the group he hid out for a while and resurfaced with bob dylan to play guitar on two of my favorite albums of his, Infidels (1983) and Empire Burlesque (1985).

coop + kat + trent + carmen

now i can finally say
some of my best friends are gay

so she asked me to write a post about riding the bus since she says its her favorite part of reading the busblog.

its funny she had such a request because today was a fascinating day on the los angeles metro rapid transit system.

since i spent the night at clipper girl’s house i walked over to the los feliz metro station and waited for the elevator to take me down to the subway. the mexican lady kept the elevator button mashed in as if it would speed things along. now you know why the elevators are always broken i hissed in spanish.

que?

nada.

two things that irritate me when i ride the subway. one is dudes with bikes during rush hour in the subway, the other are people with suitcases. they clog up any open space. if youre taking the la subway to the airport youre a loser. and as sk smith would say, i hope you get the clap. and if youre riding your bicycle after you get off the subway during rushour youre a double loser. a loser squared. i hope your bike seat racks you in front of a park bench full of hotties.

sat on the cement bench and waited for the train to arrive. i cracked open a book i just got off ebay, mooch by dan fante. hes awesome. i should bake a pie for my neighbor for turning me on to him.

train finally arrives and a woman runs down to the far end of the train to get a seat. baby theres lots of seats on the subway, no need to run to the less-crowded cars. cant avoid the minorites anyway, but good try.

“what book are you reading,” this kid asks me. probably 17.

i tell him.

“mooch. is that a bad word?” he asks.

there are no bad words i tell him.

“sure there are, nigger, spic, fucker…” he says. hes got a white undershirt on. big, baggy, xxxl black pants. shaved head. gangster 101 outfit. wifebeater underneath his undershirt. huge gold crucifix around his neck. tattoo of the virgin mary under his left ear.

those arent bad words, i tell him. those are great words.

now everyone is listening.

i continue: theyre good words because theyre descriptive and powerful. if three white guys are playing bridge with a black dude and someone says, hey wheres juan, and someone says, oh my nigga is right over there with those jagoffs, then you know immediately which one juan is.

the train stopped at wilshire and western and i got off to a car full of gaping mouths.

but i was right and my new friend and i touched knuckles and took on the day.

a year ago today i bought a car and posted a hot picture + negro please + congrats jamie!

two months ago a guy who said he sex chatted and later fisted(!) the american idol runner-up had clay’s name in the print – the bad way.

now just two months later, clay’s still the top searched for name on technorati which includes a post by this fan who has a series of clay videos which might explain the attraction.

in second place is yours truly who totally took a nap at seven pm. who totally ate when he woke up. and who totally fell back asleep after a very nice shower and run around the block in the heat and second shower.

and who totally was just awoken by the ringing of a telephone

a drunken dialing if you will.

and who totally told me that she was totally in love with me and who told her that she was drunk, and that there was nothing about me to love

and she said i am drunk and im coming over.

but she had no cab money.

and the boyscouts teach you to have cash everywhere. some hidden cash in your wallet, some emergency pizza cash under the mattress, some flat screens are two hundred bucks outta the back of that dudes truck cash in the freezer.

so of course i had some cab fare cash for the young lady in my sock.

and im refreshed, and the cubs have stopped losing, and i am now preparing to take a third quick shower so as to shave even though this girl would never notice at this point.

but the reason that i write you is because theres a serious dilema in this particular jeunne fille, shes not afraid to express her feelings.

aka our girl is loud.

aka its hot as a bitch tonight in hollywood and theres very little breeze and the only way to cool this apartment is to keep the windows and doors open.

but you cant have any damn windows and doors open with this ho. i have neighbors. im a respected member of my community.

so im considering shutting all the windows and doors and just sweating to the oldies or renting a little room over at the snooty fox.

my only problem with that is i dont wanna bring a nice girl like her over to the fox. yes shes a hollywood girl with tattoos and excellent scars and a chipped tooth thats kills me, if anyone around the fox saw her theyd make a little mental note where we checked in. and then once they heard her… shit.

this is the only problem i have with life. the people who have excellent basements, or who live on acres of property where no one can hear them, dont need those things. paris hilton has all the money in the world but she doesnt need to check into hotels for her sex video, shes the quietest girl alive. the ceiling fan is louder.

im actually so awake we could take a long drive somewhere but there is a risk that she may puke in my beautiful car.

i know im a very lucky man, and i dont deserve even a morsel of anything.

but while i have it, know there will be good music playing no matter what happens.

and for those of you scoring at home, i havent been sick in a week and i feel like a new man.

and if your scoring at home use protection.

happy birthday chad + nk + pitt + outlaw

when i was in college i had a chance to interview the fine poet for our little newspaper.

and that is why i am putting a piture of a william burroughs novel on my blog on mr ginsbergs birthday.

whats funny was, it wasnt even like i was much of a ginsberg fan, i was way more into wc williams, ee, bukowski, and plath. heck i was even way more into gerald manley hopkins and chaucer and dickinson.

but of all the beats, ginsberg was the only one who i sort of respected because he was a poet through and through and definately out there, but to me ferlingheti did it better.

still, somehow i thought the interview would go better than it did, but it didnt and maybe six months before that i got to chat with robert creeley and i loved him and he told me these great little stories and it was a real conversation and it was really nice and maybe its because not a lot of people were knocking down his door to talk with him.

or maybe it was because he talked slower.

i was interviewed the other day and i was super sick. you can even see how sick i was in this peice. and i hadnt shaved and in certain pictures i might look ok unshaved but the unblinking camera eye tells all and the sad truth is i need to shave every day and i should probably stay away from getting in front of any cameras.

and i need to talk slower and i need to be a little more mysterious.

like never speak.

but i was filled to the rim with robotussin and exhaustion and i was trying to be funny. creeley never tried to be funny.

its 95 degrees here in los angeles today. its 3:10pm.

ive been invited to three birthday parties tonight, all of which i should go to because theyre all good people, there will be hot single ladies everywhere, and probably a job lead or ten.

or i could head down to san diego.

or i could just hang out here at the crib and write all day like mr burroughs would do and wait until 1am when the phone has a very high chance of ringing with an intoxicated young lady on the other end asking to be picked up from a club on hollywood blvd.

and that young lady will be wearing leather boots, or fuzzy ski boots, or only one boot because she lost the other

and when she gets to my house she will take a long shower and somehow smoke two or three cigarettes while in the shower, leave the butts in a soap dish – classy -, and walk out to my computer closet with wet hair, my robe, and my fuzzy slippers, asking me what she thought of her new brazilian cut.

i was under the impression that allen ginsberg had a few of those stories to lay upon me, the college boy, writing for the college paper. aka blow our stupid minds freak man.

instead he told me about the horrors of drinking too much booze.

i was all, dude, drinking is just something for me to do with my hands while at parties.

i dont think he liked me neither.

but there you go bro, happy birthday.

grow a brain has a link to william burroughs book covers + amy might get you rich + erin lays it out

and marched that thing across the miles of parkinglot at dodger stadium last night, the final game of the three game series

it didnt hurt that the cubs were up by a run when we got into the parkinglot and up by four by the time we made it to the turnstyle

but thats where the terrorists won.

we cant let you go into the stadium with that broom, the young security guard informed me

i was all youve got to be kidding me

no sir, im afraid im not.

and i believed him so i very politely asked him if i could see his supervisor because bringing a broom to a potential sweep is a baseball tradition harking back to the olden days long before there were rentacops in front of the entrances of our major league baseball parks standing behind cheap folding tables.

he assured me that they dont make the rules and that his boss would tell me the same thing he was telling me

i was all, fine.

then he said, you probably havent been to dodger stadium before

which pissed me off since i had been there plenty of times, including the last two days. so i said, immediately

you probably havent been to a baseball game before.

and was all, sir, i work at a baseball stadium

to which i said if the home team confescates the brooms from the fans of the visitors, then it’s not real baseball any more. yes you work at a stadium, thats where it ends.

and then he told me my backpack was too big and he’d have to take that too.

after the cubs did, indeed, sweep the los angeles dodgers, this time beating them with a rookie pitcher in his major league debut, thanks to a three-run homer from shortstop neifi perez,

i retrieved my broom and backpack and marched through the now-dark parking lot holding it sky high.

why does that man have a broom? i heard people whisper.

the broom the broom! i heard cub fans shout.

come back when you have a ring, the snide hissed as they passed.

starts with a broom i snapped back.

dont mess with a man with a W shirt and a broom over his head.

come here with that broom two super pissed off shirtless tattooed gang looking dudes said.

they wanted to fight. welch was right, everyone wants to fight at dodger stadium these days. last night we saw a cat fight in the top deck that nearly ended in casualties. one drunken woman literally dove over the laps of four patrons in the front row and grabbed the hair of her victim. the women wrestled and people threw drinks at them

while i patiently waited for one if not both of them to fall over the rail and splatter into the loge level below.

the gang dudes asked me if i would like to ride the broom, so i gladly positioned it between my legs and skipped around as if it were a hobby horse and i yelled im riding the dodgers like the cubs just did yeeeeeeh haaaaawwww

shocked, they verbally abused my shoes(!) your shoes dont even match your gear, we’re gangstas fool, we match!

funniest thing ive ever heard in a parkinglot, friends.

ever.

so yes, the dodger fans are ruthless and looking to throw down, but because it’s LA everyones fashion-first. i got it.

and before the cheerleader drove us out of our parking spot i stuck my head out of the sun roof and yelled into the night sky LETS PLAY TWO!

lindsay + xTx + JaG + fil