and i said, snails see the benefits,

the beauty in every inch

and she said baby im a grown woman, i dont talk in inches any more.

after yesterdays fiasco i called over the sure thing. i said can you bring me some chinese food and a bong hit or ten? she brought over a bag of eh green buds and zancou chicken. everything is eh these days.

except you.

we had run out of forks and she was all im not going to doing to get you weed, get you food, suck your dick, AND do your dishes tony.

i was all who said anything about sucking my dick? we need forks woman.

some people would be offended by that but she laughed and laid back on the couch with her legs crossed seeing if i was going to seriously eat a half of a chicken with just a steak knife.

and the reason shes the sure thing is who goes to a chicken place known for its garlic paste and brings it to a dude shes about to make out with? answer: someone who can think of several other things that shed rather do with a man than kiss.

once i had finished my chicken and pita and garlic paste i asked her how her day was and she pushed me off the couch because as she says

if it aint on the floor it aint fuckin.

other day i was at a palm reader and she said pick a card. two of clubs.

she said you are a libra on the scorpio cusp. i said you can see that in that card? she said i can smell it on your breath.

she said as the days warms up tap into your scorpio side and when the days cool off your libra

and then she pushed me off the couch and i said whats the temperature today and she said seventy nine so i kissed er.

if this was Twitter

id say “watching regina spektor

at Coachella via the AT&T Blue Room,
with Arcade Fire coming up next”

but since its a blog i can link to where you need to go

and i can also tell you that i take back everything i ever said about regina

she is awesome an i love her and i will be loving her for a while.

arcade fire next.

prepare.

im glad my mom cant see videos

my coachella experience yeterday was prtty shitty. 6 hours to get there. then i had to park far away. then as i approached the gate i realized i had left my tickets in the car, so i had to hike the 2 miles to my car and back. hating everyone and everythign at that point, so coachella didnt really stand a chance.

it tried though. it showed me javis cocker. a place like coachella wouldnt seem like an ideal place to discover new bands since the sound is usually boomy at a big outdoor festival. but when you sing a song called “cunts are still running the world” somehow the message cuts through all the other distractions.

had a chicken on the stick and a beer with sunshine and claire so that was nice. then we saw bjork and gogol bordello. then i found my car, got in, and discovered that the radio had decided to completely not wanna work any more.

so two hour drive home in silence.

quite possibly the worst thing you could ever do to me, a man whose home always has the tv on and the itunes going.

so i devised a plan of attack for my new book that will come out just in time for christmas entiled

motel sex.

kelly osbourne told me no last night

everyone pretty much told me no this week. it was pretty spectacular.

but then a few hours ago (its currently 614am) i found my sirius stiletto satelite radio. i found it in a hidden pocket of a new bag i have.

the xbi has been trying to woo me back. so they send me things and fuck with things and basically suggest that things would be better if i was back in black.

things are mellow when youre in the xbi is as much nonsense as having a war to make peace.

so they had sent me this bag for easter and i was all wtf and the card said for the most important holiday, the best bag we’ve created.

wrong. it swallows things and makes you think youve lost them. sure you can store lots of things in it but its too magical. easy on the magic over there.

the jesus and mary chain were eh

scarlett did not show up. instead they used annie from giant drag.

it only took me an hour to drive out there. the traffic was beautiful. everything was beautiful. i couldnt get a date so i just gave my ticket to a dude on a crazy bicycle.

today is coachella. its going to be 100 degrees. so i think i will arrive fashionably tardy.

the best thing that has happened to LAist in April revolved around the Dodgers. We got a gay writer, we got a season ticket holder, and we got the legendary Malingering all to write about the Dodgers and more. its called Dodgers Daily.

update: stereogum is linking my story in LAist and using my vid – horray!!!

for some reason i have the best time with that girl.

yesterday i was down in the dumps. low. i didnt want to go outside and i didnt want to stay where i was. i had been invited to have my name on the guest list for the lemonheads and i had accepted a few days ago, but just as is norm when the time came closer i didnt want to go. particularly because everything had gone wrong all day.

the plan was for karisa to work out after work and i would pick her up at the gym which is very close to where the lemonheads were playing and we would walk down the street and drink to the pleasant music of giant drag, icarus line, and the lemonheads.

at 6 she was all so are going and i was all do you still wanna and she was all its up to you.

its up to me?

if it was up to me people would be required to have a beer and a joint a week. on sundays. youd be forced to go to a bar and have them swipe your drivers liscense and youd have to order a beer of some sort and drink it and say hi to someone.

and if it was up to me i wouldnt have gone to the lemonheads at that moment but i remembered something from a seinfeld episode where jerry told george that since everything usually goes wrong for him that maybe he should just do the opposite of everything he normally does.

so i told her 8? and she said 830? and i said how about 9 and at 910 we had gotten our first 7.50 each beer.

giant drag was eh icarus was horrible and evan dando didnt really seem all that ready to go play coachella. he was nice and all but, maybe you dont have to worry too much when you’re up against rage against the machine.

i love the el rey, i love the lemonheads and i had a really good time tonight but there are a few things id do differently if it was up to me about the el rey.

first thing is id open the balcony even for small shows. also id tell the security people to turn it down one notch. there were like five guys who were so into the lemonheads that they were raising their arms and singing around and then there were the rest of us who were just smiling and gooving along pleasantly.

in a situation like that you should never even notice the security. but last night they were so strict about every little thing that it was using a hammer for a fly situation.

and id knock the drink prices down a notch too. seven fifty for a beer? seven fifty is what you charge phoney assholes at soulless trendy disposable places, not the el rey.

i told karisa about my plan to save westwood. i was all why is it that westwood village, surrounded by affluence and youth, still suffering from some violence that went down in the fucking 80s?

people are falling all over themselves to create fake little westwood villages (the grove) and the real one is sufferring.

karisa said stop right there. she said, i go to school there at night and the traffic is so bad that if you did save westwood i would kill you because the traffic would be impossible.

and of course she was right.

and then she lost her cellphone because i had bad luck yesterday.

hey im famous

ok this is the edited video of the hour long interview i did with the amazing jenn sherry.

i seemed to have made a mistake in our discussion. near the end, jenn started raving about the band !!! (pronounced chick-chick-chick) and for some reason i said that they werent going to play but that they were gonna play in ireland. how can a man who knows about fests in ireland not know about the one hes been hyping for a month thats about to happen in his own back yard?

for more of jenns interviews click here

to see my picks for friday and saturday of coachella click there. and if anyone wants my saturday ticket i am selling it for face value because im old.

also, if you live in LA and want to see Sonic Youth play their entire Daydream Nation album, go enter our LAist contest!

out of the blue she calls

to say hi. to say shes lonely. to say shes sick. to say the world is boring and so are you. to say hi.

we never had a problem getting along.

why would you have a problem getting along with me.

i want the same things they want.

their shirt off.

she called to say she wanted to be bukowskis girlfriend and i was all bukowskis not home right now and vonnegut is meeting his maker, the butt of so many of his jokes, the guy he didnt believe in, but couldnt stop talking about.

when i was her age i was taking this science class and the lady made us take five slices of bread and put them in large petrie dishes around our house. one was in the sunlight most of the day. one was in somewhere cold. one was in somewhere hot. one was in somewhere wet. one was somewhere dark.

we were doing a science experiment figuring out where mold grew best.

i was all, ma’am we know that mold isnt going to grow on the bread in the fridge, its protected, so why even bother?

and she said, ah ha, while its true that we know the mold will grow quicker on the bread outside the fridge, unless you have some magical refridgerator, mold will indeed grow on that bread, just at a slower rate.

some writers need girlfriends. some writers are ruined with girlfriends.

what we know about bukowskis girlfriend / longest lasting wife is she put up with his shit. he was old, ugly, he drank alot, smoked, gambled, was horny a lot, wrote everything down, and mailed it to strangers.

he also gave the appearance of being someone who could occasionally be an ugly drunk.

he looked like how tom waits sounds.

but worst of all he was a poet.

ugly men are tolerable, but how do you live with someone who believes that what they are writing is poetry?

bukowski wrote a hundred books and no one would have mistaken him as the poet in a police line up, even if they had read some of his stuff.

but he was the greatest

in the world.

and thats what she told him until the day that he died.

for such a heavy drinker, the fact that he lived until he was 74, some say was a miracle.

i say it was because of his girl.

hey tony,

why can’t the cubbies catch a fucking break? – Sycz

just like the sway on the hem of the skirt of a woman whose not yours, some things are meant to just be looked at.

the cubs have played beautifully this year and although they havent always come out on top theyre putting up runs, and the rookies are hitting and even though mr. Pie isnt hitting hes running into brick walls in order to stay in the show and everyone is pitching fine except for the guy who wants a big contract next year

which means he will turn it around in no time

have no fear.

its april, the vines are brown and shivvering in the wind.

unlike the hem of the skirts of the women today in los angeles

as it will be warm and sunny and beautiful and totally missed on me as i was up all night doing some things that i should have done a long long lovely time ago.

and now theyre done and now i have to figure out what im gonna do about sleep for today

will i attempt it or will i pull an all-dayer.