to thank Matt Good for writing this about me?

On a Canadian website about fishing Matt tells everyone about his favorite bloggers. Of course Raymi tops the list, but I sneak in there somehow myself. horray!

Tony Pierce: Chicago Cubs fanatic, music disciple, Los Angelino, photographer, wanderer, blog fanatic and the editor of the LAist. When it comes to blogging, there are a million and one things that can said about Tony. But being that I’ve known him for years I have to admit that, at the moment, I am struggling to remember what the million and first thing is — but, it’ll come to me.

Tony is a purist in the realm of stream-of-consciousness blogging. His blog can neither be categorized by a specific content type, nor could it be claimed that it is without focus. He is, at times, argumentative, brash, and full fisted, while at other times pensive, humorous, reflective, and purposely out to lunch.

Over the years we have podcasted, talked for hours about a multitude of happenings, and even spent time basking poolside in the comfortable California sun. What that last tidbit has to do with blogging I’m not sure, but if there’s one person one the planet that could make it applicable, it would be him.

Thanks Matt!

why i dont talk about my secret life and i said ah man its probably cuz i dont talk about any of my lives.

so heres my life. wake up, shower, make the coffee, drive to work, sit down, read the email, answer the urgent ones, forget about some of the not so urgent ones, find out some of those were more urgent than normal, go to the kitchen to see if any hot girls are there, get an orange juice outta the machine, go back to the desk, look at the clock, hate life.

then i have the secret life. fly to work. get briefed on the weather conditions. find out what They did last night. decide whose life to ruin. see if theres anything chocolate in the machine. wait for chopper one to get ready. exchange dirty jokes with maintenance. save the world. fly home. pray for forgiveness.

and then i have the current busblog life. wake up whenever. blog like crazy. smoke like crazy. drink like crazy. go whereever. kiss girls. go to sleep whenever. watch the hits of LAist soar. watch the hits of the busblog sink.

pretty little girl was over here the other night playing with the gray in my chesthair. in these days of dateline i probably shouldnt call her a pretty little girl so lets call her a dirty young woman dressed like a teenage runaway.

she asked whos your girl on the wall?

my bedroom wall has many pictures, so i asked, which one are you talking about? and played with her imaginary chest hair.

she said, when i was in high school and i had a boyfriend he would put my picture on his wall. so wheres your girl on your wall?

and i said baby i could make a joke about how i do have the means to have you velcroed on that wall in a matter of minutes but im tired out, cuz im old, and you are not. so i will answer your question.

when youre hiking through the hills on acid over a long weekend

and youre drinking water right out of a bubbling brook

and youre eating fish that you scared into the shallow part and then grabbed with your bare hands

cooked by stewardesses who wouldnt agree to topless hiking because they said theyd get sunburn on their nipples

so hiked bottomless with you.

on the third day you dont wake up with the sunrise and say, this trip would have been so much better if we all had ice cream right now.

what you do is

roll over and think about how smart you were to bring extra brownies.

a gay guy relates the dodgers to his exboyfriend + this was on digg on saturday + single jew girl

– someone just sent me these pics from uganda!

i know that white girl!

african dogs look just like regular dogs!

hi nice kid

the other day a satellite radio network suspended two alleged shock jocks for being too crazy on uncensored radio.

gasoline is approaching $4 a gallon while theres a president in office whose family made their fortune in oil and yet their arent any torches outside the gates

and yet my life is stranger than all of that.

218pm

lunch with a girl named Rim.

had a sidekick that kept bleeping. ba-leep. ba-leep.

i was all baby im going to put my hand on your knee

and each time that fucking thing goes off my hand is going to go up your leg.

ba-leep.

she said if i turn it off it will look like i am offline.

ba-leep ba-leep.

huge fake tits, makeup on flawless twentynothing skin, and perfume that smelled

ba-leep.

i was all what happens if it looks like youre offline

she said they will think someone is killing me.

ba-leep.

long legs.

i said why dont you just put up an away message

ba-leep.

she said i have it up, those are messages people are leaving me

ba-leep.

i said in about two minutes youre gonna have to change that message, whatever it is.

because overnight they think they can question everything about you and put you in a box.

tony pierce iii is not someone who can easily be put in a box.

at least not any normal type of fucking box.

because of this beard and mustache i have attained a very odd habit of seeing how much of it i can lick. as if i was a cat.

because im no gene simmons i cant really lick that much, but my tounge doesnt know that. its been stuck inside my mouth for 100 years. suddenly its got all this weirdly textured hair thats stiff by the corners of the mouth and soft under the nose.

this morning i woke up and i thought i had a sore throat but no i had pulled a muscle in my tongue! i know this because this afternoon chickie came over and wanted to make out and i was all lets just hold hands and watch movies.

she was like do you have a cold sore or something and i was all nope.

then because im mr honesty i told her the problem but she didnt believe me.

now if theres one thing that homey dont play its the i dont trust tony game.

everyone loses that game because out comes the 9 iron then the softball bat then the bible.

things are broken, feelings are hurt, things are said that someone regrets but not me because bitch its only been one day who the fuck could i have gotten ass from in one fucking day? im a blogger not an heiress.

she was all how can you expect me to trust a guy i dont even know. and was all not my problem, until i fuck you over you better start trusting me or you will never see the glory that is this this totally filthy living room again.

and she left.

last night and i couldnt figure out why until i got home and saw a young lady with a grocery bag with a bagguette sticking out of it knocking on my door. apparently i forgot my sopranos date. and this girl was very mad.

unfortunately for her i was given a gift of a shoebox lined with some of the stickiest sweetest humbolt stuff that makes you really mellow as in falling asleep mellow.

so when she wanted to clomp on my hard wood floors to accentuate how upset she was all i could see were firm calves and a skirt moving and colors.

what baby i asked.

AND DONT CALL ME BABY.

did she have any idea who she was going to be spending at least one hour of her life with?

i apologized and told her that id gladly mail a tape to her in the morning if she wanted to see it later and she said no no and i said then youre going to have to chill it down like 5 notches. and then see if it will go down two more because im a really old man and i used to tolerate pouty girls in my mispent youth but that shits not as cute nowadays

and i loaded the bong for her and she inhaled and held it and held it and coughed like crazy while exhaling and i swear to you people, before there was one less soprano our girl was passed the fuck out.

now heres the difference between black guys and white guys. a white guy will just keep his hand on a girl’s thigh when he realizes that shes passed out. but a black guy will check himself by removing his hand, scootching over a tad on the couch, and blowing a dog whistle just incase the ho was bugged.

its 434am and your girl is still on my couch, cia or fbi or whoever you are. i knew she was too cute to be for real, and i knew there was a reason she was sooooo upset when i was late. because she didnt want to be seen in my neighborhood. since shes 5-0 trying to pretend to be undercover.

did i like tonights sopranos. yes. it was an unusual way to kill off a major character, and somewhat forced, if you ask me. but i always like it when tony has sex with hookers and last nights was an interesting one.

but, as danielle says, malfi and tonys wife always steal the show and they did again last night.

afterwards i watched entourage as the fuzz snored on my couch.

i smoked bowls as i watched the de la hoya fight and i gotta say, i think oscar got robbed.

and then i read the bible cuz it was sunday.

and now im writing you because im gonna sleep till noon.

i also dont go into grocery stores with anything in my hands or pockets cuz i dont want people to think i stole anything.

i put together a box of cds for my mom this year. normally i get her one or two cds but after all these years ive only just realized that im the only one whose going to get her good music. so a box was necessary.

im sure she would have preferred flowers, but shes got plenty of flowers.

happy mothers day mom and all the other moms out there.

20 mothers day videos

happy 22nd birthday mary. im glad we’re still friends.

im also glad that it was with her that i first fell in love.

when youre a teen in love there really nothing else in the world. maybe one day i will transcribe a tiny piece of one of my diaries from back then. talk about obsession. one day in high school i went through and counted each time i had mentioned her in my diary and put the score between her and this other girl on each page.

im glad i was in love with her because now in retrospect i can see how young people can have babies way too early or get married way too early because when youre young and in love youre so insane. you probably shouldnt be allowed to vote or drive.

as you get older you will still experience moments of bliss, but nothing that will make you do the ridiculously silly things you would do while young and in love.

which is another reason i dont think oj did it.

fortunately or unfortunately senior year of high school mary moved from chicago to california and i wrote her almost every day, and if i can credit anyone for helping inspire me being a pro writer its mary who would write me beautiful long letters and i would try to write back ones just as good.

something mary reminded me to do the other day was to pimp out general pitt’s wonderful participation in a marathon to raise money for kids in africa so that they will have sporting equipment.

the charity is called Right to Play, and its something i would never had thought about but its true, kids should have the right to be kids and play no matter where they live.

you can donate as much or as little as you want, but if youre gonna do it do it this weekend because on Sunday mr. pitt is going to try to run 42.3 km for these kids. thats 26.283948863636382 miles to we americans. which is about 26.283948863636381 more miles than im running on sunday, so i gave till it hurt and i recommend that you do the same.

a few days later a girl with no panties came into my house and the day after that laist got on the front page of digg. so yes the lord will reward you as well. just watch.

tonight i will celebrate marys birthday with another taurus, karisa, as we do all the things i couldnt do back when i was 15. namely heading over to the saddle ranch and betting tourists they couldnt drink shots ride the bull and play soduko better than us.

unrelated:

fake boob photo essay + Lost was great + poor britney

thats why i stay up all night. its 5:30am. on nights i give in to the ladies i find myself trying to play catchup at work all day. wtf is that. i work 17 hours a day 7 days a week and i always feel behind. i hate that.

im thinking about going to vancouver in late july for a week vacation. anyone interested?

it was 90 degrees yesterday. a seal from the north pole was found in florida. they caught him. he was 250 pounds and tired of swimming and he had a beard. so many similarities to your author. normally i have to force myself to go to sleep at this hour but today im beat.,

mostly cuz of the heat and what happened on the sheets. im so old. how do they put up with this. she puts lotion on me afterwards. for some reason it wears me out but charges her up. what sort of nonsense is that?

this girl is amazing looking. the whole time i wonder when i will wake up but i dont dream so i wont be waking up. i put my hand on her belly as we sleep and she moves it to her breast. im all whats wrong with where it was and she says bleh then jumps out of bed and gets her toenail polish and horrible cds.

when im in a girls house i can fall asleep instantly. when the phones ring theyre not for me, when the doors knock its not for me, when the cops bust through its not because of my stash. but for some reason they are the ones who wanna play pajama party and catch the sun rising.

she paints her nails and, bored, rubs lotion on my back while she waits for her shit to dry. lotion everywhere. lil tone is all wake up old man and im all fuck you and hes like no lets fuck her. again.

but does a girl really want lotion on a schween to enter her? so many thoughts so many hours of sleep wasted. so soon will the sun be up and the doors will open and close and whispers and singing and showers and cars and when i say i dont want to come over this is why baby its too much.

the nail polish smell the flushing the phones the texting songs the neighbor boys sniffing around a house usually bursting with hotties.

its all too much excitement and energy for this little piggy.

im the only man in america who doesnt want to be in this bedroom.

which might be why im the only man in america in it.

and as soon as she starts snoring i will move my hand back