its not even midnight and im tired. i have no idea why. yeah i just drove around the country but its not like i walked. its not like i wasnt treated right by pretty much everyone everywhere i went. its not like mother nature didnt totally take it easy on me. its not like my car wasnt ideal.

everything fell into place the whole trip and at this point i should have some deep and powerful lessons learned that i should share with you. but im so tired. but ok i will.

but first let me tell you what happened yesterday at the university of phoenix arena where i bought one ticket for $80 to see my beloved Bears face off against the arizona cardinals on monday night football.

my ticket’s face value was $25 and it was in the corner of the new stadium and it was way up in the sky but still a good seat if you ask me because even though im olde my eyesight is pretty good for some reason. probably all the preventitive glaucoma medicine i took while in college.

i got to the game three hours early because a) what the fuck else was i supposed to do in zona b) where else would i rather be than surrounded by giddy bears fans in the parking lot in sunny phoenix glendale c) i wanted to make sure i got a ticket

the bears fans were everywhere. the tailgating food smelled wonderful but how do you ask to eat someones steak? it was bad enough that i was video interviewing them without their permission.

because arizona is smart they have this little area right by the front door of the stadium where the cops watch as people sell their tickets to people looking for tickets. and its ok to sell them above face value. anyone who thinks im a democrat is crazy. i believe in capitalism and small government more than the next guy and i love that little area of freedom and i didnt care that i was paying almost four times the price, i wanted in and everyone else were selling better tickets for $300 and even though i could have gotten that sorta scratch, i promised myself not to pay more than $100 and i got my ticket and sighed a sigh of relief and partied.

the game started and the bears let the fucking usc rookie march down the field on them and the fans cheered. then somehow they got another touchdown. then a field goal. by halftime it was 20-0 or 20-3 and i had walked all around the spacious stadium to try to find a lucky spot for the Bears who had nothing working for them and at halftime i was that close to leaving the fucking place in disgust.

i found myself in the smoking section of the arena which is a ramp on the far end. it was dark and gloomy and all the people were smoking and drinking and the bear fans who were once loud and proud were quiet and hopeless. these were the Bears we had all grown up with: fucking retarded losers.

as i interviewed people i asked them if i should leave and they all said no. i said but i can make it to Vegas by midnight if i bail now and they said youve been living in LA too long, this aint no fucking Dodger game.

and the fans cheered me up and we moaned and we drank and i inhaled their second hand smoke and it felt like being in college again. and i met two girls who were acting so wild i didnt know if they were just party girls or working girls or what but i liked them and they seemed to like me and in the video below you can see the dude ask me if im with the Bear fans or with the Cardinal girls and i walk over to the Cardinal girls as a joke.

by the fourth quarter the bears are down 23-3 and now ive snuck down to the best seats in the house. ive found an empty seat next to a guy dressed in a bear outfit from head to toe. he looks like a 7 foot teddy bear. he has a bears jersey on. he doesnt say a word.

with 11 minutes to go in the 4th quarter i have circled the stadium dozens of times and ive even tried to ignore the game to give them luck but it doesnt work, rex grossman goes three and out for the last time and i did what my mother often does – leave the room. in this case i left the stadium and i wasnt the only one. so many of us hopped onto the shuttle busses back to the high school two miles away where the parking lot is. someone jokes that zona had scored again and we all moan.

the guy im sitting next to calls his wife who says, god i feel so bad. and he says, “you? im the one at the game in a fucking grizzly bear outfit.”

get to the lot, find my car in the dark which is tougher than it seems. everyone else has car alarms that they activate from their key chains but i have to rely on my spidey senses and find the fucker and turn on my computer to figure out if im gonna go to vegas or LA or san diego or mexico. everywhere is 6 hours away and its 8:30pm and i had been given some drinks by the ladies but i had convinced myself that those, just like all the other beers, were bad luck beers, and i poured them out after the bears had done something dumb. but still i was too tired and buzzed to drive too far. at that point i realize that Yuma should be my last stop. it was only two hours away and four hours from San Diego where i could have a late lunch with my girl danielle who i hadnt seen in too long.

i drive out of the lot, end up on a freeway that takes me past the stadium and i think, man im glad i didnt have to fight traffic against all those cars, but wow no one else seems to be leaving the stadium. then i turn on the radio and the announcer says “the bears somehow stay undefeated in what might have been the craziest ending to a monday night game EVER.”

and thats how i won the game for chicago.

you’re welcome.

this video was shot in the smoking section during halftime

pregame tailgating video here + photos here

the grand canyon was never truly in the plans. neither was phoenix but thats where im at right now. the plan was to kiss a girl in every state but sometimes girls pretend like they dont wanna get kissed which is pretty much the stupidest game ive ever heard but if kissing girls is what youre after get used to stupidity.

grand canyon was big and deep and colorful and it wasnt my first time there so i sorta knew what to expect however it sure took a long time to get there. so long that i kept asking myself, am i there yet am i there yet? the trip there, to be honest, was better than being there until a japanese girl asked me extremely politely if i had a lighter so that she and her friend could get high and sit on a bench and look at the grand canyon and i said i had one but it was in my car and they didnt trust me to come to my car even though there were like a million people around us, and they outnumbered me two to one and they were the ones who asked ME.

so i said baby if you dont trust me then theres nothing i can do, go ask grampa over there. which they did but grampa spoke french and french only. little did i know but this was international day on the southern rim of the canyon, since all the normal americans were in their living rooms watching football and ordering pizza.

everyone had a camera. everyone thought they were Mr. Photographer. everyone walked around like they were Mr Natureboy. people rode their bikes, people hiked with camera bags over one shoulder. people pretended to understand maps. i was pretending too. i was pretending that i wasnt getting a minor case of vertigo where i couldnt see how close the rail was to my hand. my depth perception was taking a little holiday and i was all where are those japanese girls to set this shit straight again.

i drove down the mountain and got sleepy after only an hour and i pulled over at an abandoned motel that looked like it had Just gotten shut down. i cracked the window, eased the seat back and put the alphabet city girl’s sweater over my eyes and tried to sniff her perfume from it but i think i sniffed it all off. and i fell asleep for exactly ten minutes and woke up forgetting that i had left my lights on accidentally but because i had a new battery all was good in the hood and i tried to google maps where i was but Grand Canyon, AZ doesnt really do well in google maps, little known fact, and lots of places around it dont have real addresses so i couldnt figure out if Vegas was really only three hours away or not

so i drove south to some little town and ate and then decided to come here to Phoenix because da bears are playing here for Monday Night Football and the Cardinals have a new stadium and i didnt really wanna be in Vegas on a Sunday since i try to keep it holy by not fingering girls’s assholes or beating off or being mean or being in vegas. so here i am. i ate the hugest chinese meal ever that included two crab legs. i got stared at by two girls in a fucked up car who wanted to find some trouble and sometimes girls just give you that eye contact that says take us somewhere tony we’re so bored being dirty hot young chicks in zona with no one to tell us to dance on the spare bed in the non smoking embassy suites room that you just got

but its sunday so i watched andrew sullivan get interviewed by brian lamb then i took Marie’s advice and watched Lost via you tube and then i ate ice cream and i wrote one email and then i played PSP golf and tomorrow i will do laundry and maybe a movie and then go see Da Bears break matt lienarts everything.

if you remember, flagstaff was the town that made me turn around and go home when i first started this trip two months ago. i was told by two auto parts people that my engine would probably need to be replaced because of an oil problem, but as long as i checked the oil every 100 miles i would be able to make it back to LA.

of course i did make it back to LA, and after a $6 part i went back on the road a few weeks later, and here i am still with a slight oil issue, and a hood that doesnt like to open, but ive made it around the country and today i will go to the Grand Canyon followed by Vegas and then i will be back in LA.

because a lot of hotel and motel owners read the busblog heres some tips i have for you

1) when the checkout time is noon, dont have your maids knock on doors at 11am, particularily on doors that have the Do Not Disturb sign on the handle.

2) some people are grossed out with the idea that hundreds if not thousands of people have entered the room and “lived” in it throughout the year. have a checklist that declares that not just the sheets, toilet, sink, and pillowcases have been cleaned, but also: the remote control, the tabletops, the blankets, the spreads, the carpets, the faucet knobs, and the door handles. if you can establish that your rooms are clean, you can demand a higher rate.

3) this is a new world. i am just one person and i carry several electronic devices. therefore motels should invest in one or two power strips next to the bed so the modern traveler can plug his ipod, laptop, video game, camcorder, and digital camera battery charger in and place those items on the night stand. instead we have to disconnect lamps all around the room and spread our equipment all over. i was particularily amazed that “executive” and “residence” inns didn’t have a place for a variety of electronics.

4) if you are advertising hi-speed Internet (like 75% of better motels & hotels do), make sure that you are providing an ethernet cable long enough to reach the bed. just because you invested in a desk for the room or suite doesnt mean that we want to sit at that desk to use our computer. sure it looked great in the blueprint, but it’s a lap top that the majority of us brought into the room, let us put it on our lap, on the bed, as we watch tv.

5) it’s time for motels and hotels to go green. its nice that you ask us to re-use towels if we stay more than one night. we can live with that. but how about stopping your bizarre behavior of the little soaps and the little bottles of shampoo and conditioner? even the best spas use soap dispensers as well as shampoo and conditioner dispensers right there in the shower. not only would you save money on soap, but you will please the greens by cutting down on paper waste and plastic waste from those little bottles.

6) keep the hot tub open until 2am. if you’re worried that people will party in there and be loud, simply ask them to keep it down. communication really does work. and since most motels shut down their pool and hot tubs at the ridiculously early 10pm, the chain that begins to cater to responsible adults will win.

7) any front desk worth its salt would have an ipod charger available for the guest who left his behind. most of us have ipods. most of us on the road lose something. same goes for digital cam battery chargers and cell phone charger. its easy to invest in one ipod charger, and a universal digital camera battery charger, and several cell phone chargers. ask $5 for a charge and not only would you recoup your investment but your guests would probably love you forever.

im sure i will have more tips later. its now time to see americas ass crack.

first lemme say that there have been many great benefits to this road trip. one of them was seeing old friends. one of them was seeing my family. one of them was seeing the bears and the red sox and the cubs. one of them was seeing new blog buddies. one of them was seeing blog buddies who i had only met once or twice.

and one of them was seeing the wide varieties of motel rooms that you can get for uner $100. which leads us to the La Quinta in Norman, OK, which for $99 was one of the sweetest rooms that ive stayed in. apparently La Quinta is Spanish for “Hidden Gem”.

currently im being asked to leave the Baymont Inn & Suite of San Rafael, New Mexico which is probably the nicest place i’ve stayed in under $50, but that happens when you luck out and find a newly renovated motel by pure fate.

if theres a motel chain out there or a motel/hotel blog that would pay for me to travel around the country and the road and stay in a new room every day, perhaps i could convince my boss to create USist and i could write about this fine nation, which is fine, and speaking of fine check out that interview with Madpony Kristin who gave me a sweet tour of OU which is red bricker than i expected and smaller than i thought it would be and almost like a perfect lil college town.

of course anything connected with Kristin would be ideal. we had a nice little lunch at one of her favorite places which was packed because OU fans flock the campus on weekends that the football team plays, even if the team is bad, even if theyre about to lose to the undefeated Big 10 school, even if the game is a full 24 hours away.

kristin is also someone who i would hang out with a lot if she lived on this side of the mississippi. shes so smart. shes so quick. cameras have a hard time capturing her beauty. especially her eyes which you really should wear sunglasses else you’ll catch yourself swooning.

when it was discovered that i had a long drive ahead of me we took off before i could meet her perfect husband. but she pointed me in the right direction and i sped through oklahoma city and saw the baseball park and the arena where the Charlotte Hornets now play and then i was out there in the praries of OK.

i stopped off at the Cherokee Trading Post to take pictures of their famous buffalo. and i had some beads to trade for land but they were all ha. i was all meh. they were all exit. i was all k.

while driving on the President George Bush highway outside of the Dallas Fort Worth airport i got a phone call from someone who used to be super important in my life. for the sake of anonymity lets call her Clipper Girl’s cousin, since she is a beautiful young former nba cheerleader, and the cousin of an nba cheerleader who i would sometimes hook up with. this particular girl was way more than a hookup, we’d often spend lots and lots of time together, and we probably said we loved each other probably ten thousand times.

so this particular young lady, oh and lets pretend that this is the busblog and nothing in here is true, called me up this evening as the sun was setting while i was on President George Bush freeway in Dallas and my stupid phone is stupid so it rings when it damn well pleases but it definately beeps if i ever miss a call.

i saw that i had missed her call. now Libras, which i am one, have weird things happening for them around sunset. its a well known secret. i for one get extremely emotional during that time. even scared. basically all the things that im not any other time of day happens to me for that half hour or so when the sun is really setting. i think it has something to do with the transition not being a firm one. i need, in many parts of my life, to know if its night or day, black or white, do you love me or would be happy never seeing me again. so sundown fucks my shit up and makes me very uneasy.

and im not a big fan of texas and im not a big fan of dallas since they were the team that would always beat the bears in the playoffs back in the day and i really cant get behind a city that has a fucking road called President George Bush freeway.

so i shouldnta called her back right then but i did because i had a feeling that she was gonna say some really sweet things to me because i just hooked her up with something that no one in her life would have been able to hook her up with in a million years, something that you clip, frame, and put in an important part of your house.

instead what the conversation devolved into was her saying all these super mean things to me. saying i was insane and delusional or demented or something with a d-e begining and i was trying to keep it together but the sun was setting and my mojo which had already been stolen way at the begining of this trip was threatening to never come back.

and i was sweating even though it was cold in dallas tonight. and i tried to tell her nice things but she just got meaner before i could even say anything. and i hate that all of our last talks have always been fights and i was really hoping that not talking for a long time was gonna change that but all it has done was end the good thing that we had once upon a time.

and the devil always whispers things in my ear but the angels have a pretty good seat at the table and they were all, dude just get famous and rich and all these bitches you have been good to who diss you will feel bad, and the devil just laughs and laughs and says come on you know that never happens and its not like tony wants people he loves to ever feel bad.

and the road got twisty and turny and the radio started sucking so i turned on the ipod and it was as if the angels started choosing all the best songs just for me. its the reason god invented shuffle, so that sometimes he could talk to us through song. and all the songs spoke to me on that dark highway entering oklahoma.

what one of the songs told me was that just likes theres a first kiss, theres always a last kiss, you just never really know when its gonna be with some people. and even though you might remember that first one, if youre not paying attention you will forget the last one.

another song told me that sometimes people have their hearts hardened for a very good reason so that you can move forward and they dont want to hear that you miss them and still love them and will always love them because they need to move forward too. and even if it doesnt look like theyre moving forward in all parts of their life, dont worry, the best you can do is be nice even though nice guys finish last. every time. even though being an asshole is the easiest game in town. even though being distant is super simple. even though anyone can pretend to be a certain way, but if you are yourself and the cheerleader gets naked for you then you know you have something good there so dont fake. dont be a faker. dont let loss ruin you. dont think that being successful is going to change anything. sometimes the ho in front of you just dont want you. no matter how you make them tingle. cuz lord knows youve turned your back on some hot pieces of ass for no good reason too.

i was at a junk yard today wearing my bears sweatshirt and one of the guys said i love the bears and behind him was a dallas cowboys insignia engraved in a hubcap and his boss said boy thats sacriledge to say that shit. and one reason i dont tell many sad stories on here is cuz just like the junk yard man, everyone loves a winner. but sometimes you just have to keep it real. and after you lose, if youre lucky you’ll get to pull into a mcdonalds, take off your sweaty sweatshirt, towel off with your trusty towel that douglas adams was so right about, and you put on a new shirt and you get back in, and continue your journey. and mookie, always do the right thing.

top photo by bicycle mark when we were filming in nyc

after driving through east texas which isnt as boring as people would have you believe, i made it into Austin just in time for beer hour at the Hillldale residence.

the lovely couple greeted me with a few rounds of buckshot from their swinging chair on the porch of their new home as the dog yapped and i yelled CLINTON WAS FRAMED, CLINTON WAS FRAMED! until they stopped. there were all “tony?” and i said yes and they fired some more.

when they ran out of ammo i held up cartons of cigarretes and bags of porn. they shot the smokes right out of my hand but spared the smut and when the dust settled they were all oooooh THAT tony! and i was allowed inside the compound.

we went to their neighbor’s home for a downhomed catered bbq and drank some of their beer as we talked to yuppies and got bitten by texas sized mosquitoes. i miss dan and sarah and if they were my neighbors id be over at their house all the time. unfortunately they live way the hell down here where even in rocktober the temperature flirts with 90 which is why the ceiling fans were on at 9:30p when we made it to the new Pizza Place near the campus.

we ate we drank some more and we blabbed and gossipped. we probably talked hella shit about you and you and you but then we agreed that we loved all our friends and were lucky to know them.

then we went back home and killed the case of lite beer and watched a little jon stewart and colbert and dan thought he had recorded Lost but alas he didnt. technology!

they have a new dog to go with their new backyard and the little fella (you can call chick dogs fellas) is so happy that she does a gazelle leap every third step as she runs. im sure as a puppy she pissed on those leaps out of happiness but clearly her former owner beat that shit out of her.

adorable though, as is the kitty who hides and quietly judges, i had a great stay with the hilldales and enjoyed barely missing their frogs that hop in the front lawn.

this afternoon i dined with Ms Leah, who many of you know ive been reading since she was 15. as in new york i didnt see an ugly woman in all of austin. i think it has something to do with the water. but like sarah, leah looks better than ever and if i only had a bottle of ruffies and a modeling studio me and dan could make a fortune here.

both of the ladies humoured me with little video interviews and i stopped by the 710 Room to see my bro Asher but he hadnt yet opened up his bar, but Asher if you read this, Leah needs a job and even though she doesnt know what a margarita is, im sure she could learn real quick-like. and i promise to stop by again in March when i return for SXSW.

right now im in Waco. i went by a salvage yard to see if theyd sell me a grill for my car and they clicked through their computer and couldnt find one but told me they could order me one for $47. i said, i know this is a dumb question, but do i really need one? i made it from New Orleans to Austin and now to here and all seems to be well and they were so funny and so rednecky and that shop was so classic and all four guys almost in unison were all “naw.”

god bless em.

it was tough to leave new orleans yesterday. its tough leaving most of the cities that ive visited during this month on the road. i try to stay away from the touristy areas because living in LA i know that those are fake areas of town. the least-like what the city is about.

in LA we have Disneyland and CityWalk and Third Street Promenade and Hollywood & Highland and the Grove. thats not the LA that i love. but i understand why people go there when they come in from out of town. so in new orleans i stayed away from the jackson brewery and that square but when i pulled out of town i spent some money down there and bought a beniget and talked to the people and if this EVDO allows the videos to get up, i will have it on LAist later today.

bukowski taught me not to complain, so i havent been writing about my oil situation. its been better but for some reason my hood has been giving me problems since DC, meaning its been hard to lift it. so i pulled off the grill to get to it and when that started working i noticed that the grill was having a harder time staying on. i thought about using duct tape, and when it flew over my windshield while leaving new orleans and got run over by several dozen cars instantly i thought yeah duct tape would have been a good idea.

and then it started raining and then my mom called and then i realized i had an ice cream cone in my hand and then i realized it was time for me to lose the ice cream cone or get used to not living on earth any more.

needless to say the trip to texas was far from dull.

after the rain ended i saw a sign for Crawfish City. anyone who has been to Lobster Village in baja knows that these towns named after crustations really shouldnt be passed up, even if the bottomdwellers are out of season.

CC was pretty much empty but that allowed me to plug in and dine in peace. the lady was very sweet and offered me the Seafood Special which included deep fried samples of: crab, shrimp, oyster, clam, crawfish, catfish, and frog legs. all for $9.

as much as im a sucker for a great deal, i passed. i was in fucking crawfish city, i wanted crawfish!

the crawfish was sorta crappy but the service was sweet so i drove on.

when chosing accomidations on the road i try not to stay in the city limits as most cities have lots of crime in their downtown regions. so of course i got lost. and of course i found myself at an unknown motel right in the bad part of town. but what i have learned on this trip is throw away your preconceived notions.

not only is this motel really nice, but its cheap ($69) and it was very close to a variety of strip clubs.

the sex show on burbon street turned out to be a comedy of errors ending with my stripper Magic climbing on stage and spinning on the pole and losing her wig. so i was still in search of a quality strip club experience and i got it last night at Treasures.

Treasures is one of the classiest strip joints in vegas and therefore i wasnt surprised when they hassled me at the front door for not having a dress shirt. i was all, hi this is america i dont own a dress shirt. the dude said well if you want to come back here you should invest in one. he let me in. i failed going through the metal detector(!) and he still let me go through. hmmmmm.

once inside i was basically molested by a puerto rican chica who insisted on giving me her phone number and asked me to call her right then so she would have mine and i said ha. she claimed to be rolling on e and showed all signs of being honest but i dont know, when i go to strip clubs i like the stuck up girls. there were a few and i approached them and they danced but i found myself with the ladies with the best outfits. texas, like canada, lets you touch the girls. all over. allll over.

at 2am i was there with the hottest chick there. a shorter version of howard stern’s girlfriend, Beth O, who swore she had two kids but showed no signs. and then showed me the family picture.

side note. any strippers who read this blog: please dont talk about your children. ever. we dont care, we dont wanna know, we’re not going to tip you more, we’re only going to feel horrible that someones mom has to grind up against strangers to pay the bills. every stripper in the place told me about their kids, i even over heard ladies talking about their children. one of the girls told me that they had a rule at Treasures against tattoos and bruises. there should be a more strict rule about talking about babies.

regardless, at 2:05am the club closed and i went home buzzed, smelling great, and sprinkled with sparkles. it was a good night. and today i travel to Austin in hopes of finding a new grill for my trusty car.

on LAist + bonus photo essay

i went to the lower 9th ward today. interviewed some teenage girls. i tried to interview some teenage boys and some adults but they didnt wanna talk. theyve talked enough. theyve been talking for a year.

i drove around for hours taking pictures. it didnt make me cry until i got back to the hotel. the whole time i felt like an uninvited funeral crasher.

normally i can go up and talk to anyone. i know im not up to anything bad. i know that i have people’s best interests at heart. plus im not afraid. ive always wanted to be a reporter. not a writer so much as a reporter. a long time ago i heard that the definition of a reporter is to go somewhere that most people cant go to and tell them what happened. but today i went to new orleans and i understood why i never became a reporter.

i never got that job because a professional, a real pro, the pro i want to be, goes that extra mile. even though she wasnt a pro, yet, when kerri strug hit that vault landing in the olympics with a broken leg, and stuck it, breaking the leg worse, she was being that pro who i yearn to be. today i just didnt have what it took to ask that one extra question, or to ask that one extra person, or take that extra picture.

which isnt to say that i wont do it tomorrow, but today i allowed the circumstances to hinder my job.

but i will tell you what i saw. in a way thats reporting.

what i saw were blocks and blocks and blocks of abandonded and destroyed homes. its hard to say what the condition of some of these homes were before katrina since the 9th isn’t the most affluent neighborhood in new orleans, but we can assume that most of the houses were inhabited. now only a fraction were liveable.

the ladies who would talk to me told me that the worst of the devistation happened over the bridge, so i went there. for some reason i wasnt scared. not even when i stopped my car when i saw a car following me, who then rolled down his window while his partner got out and asked me how much i wanted. i began driving again. mostly because i wanted all he had.

i saw a lot of the FEMA trailers which are little trailer homes given to some by the government. some houses had a trailer in the front yard or in the drive way. a few locations had make-shift trailer communities where there were dozens and dozens of trailers.

although television tells us that the 9th ward is Black and Poor i saw a few neighborhoods that were upper middle class and white or upper middle class and Black. i saw whites in so-called black sections and i saw construction guys and old people and stray cats and lots of rubble everywhere.

on one street every telephone pole had an ad stapled to it for construction or deconstruction. there were insurance ads asking people if they were unhappy with their settlement. there were ads for people who wanted to sell their home. people were trying to rent their home. people offered to gut people’s home.

i saw lots of spraypaint messages on houses telling you how many people were dead inside, when it was checked, and what was done with their pets if they found any.

if there were ever an opportunity for someone to make some money it would be to teach people how to be contractors and builders and real estate people and developers because this part of the south will rise again, its just a question of time, and the person who buys low (it couldnt be much lower than it is now) and sells high will be the winner.

in the meantime there are people all over this town who are hearty and stubborn and bruised but not broken. these are the people who were kicked out by mother nature and the government and came back and stayed here. if ever there was a group of people who you’d want on your team to make this city stronger, they’re right here and theyre beautiful and theyre bright and they’ve already been to the edge and looked down. everyone here got wet. everyone here was baptised. everyone here are now truly saints. you will stand in awe in their presence.

i came back to my hotel room feeling so unworthy. i felt like such a whiner. oh theres bugs in my hotel room oh the drain goes down too slowly oh not enough chicks half my age show me their boobs. whaaaaaa. these people have lost their friends their neighbors their classmates their coworkers and theyd love to drive around the country, theyd love to stay where im at right now. theyd love to have the food i ate in the 9th ward, theyd love to be able to drive to texas tomorrow because they get to not because they have to. and yet those people dont rush the mic to complain, they shy away because there isnt anything to say. look around stranger. thats your story.

i saw several national guard jeeps i saw fewer cops i heard very few hammers.

i did see a newly built home standing next to a ruined shell of a shack. i wasnt sure if it meant progress, racism, classism, or hope. i just clicked a few pictures and moved on because a block away there would be something else that would blow my mind and make me question everything and sure enough i found it. a virgin mary holding a baby jesus across the street from a diner named Happy Days, and Mary had her head ripped off.