which means ask tony a question

so you, yes you, ask a question in the comments below

whatever youve got. whatevers been naggin at you. whatever youve Really wanted to know

go!

there are nice people, mean people, sweet people, losers, there are creative people, thieves, lovers, and haters.

its a lot like the ocean. lots of different type of life. not all of it is beautiful. tons of similar types swimming along together and every now and then you’ll see something super ugly with big teeth hiding in the shadows waiting to lurch out and destroy something beautiful and shiny.

just like the ocean, most of the time the most evil animals are also the dumbest. the sharks are usually half blind, rarely courageous, seldom creative. they just swim around eating and shitting and fucking.

our pal keira-anne recently discovered that her loveliness had attracted someone who wanted to take a bite out of her. in fact this cowardly fish took it upon themselves to create a blog simply to talk shit about her.

typical. in fact if you cruise the blogosphere a little, you’ll see your fair share of hater blogs. they all have similar traits and rarely do they add anything to the conversation. they whine, they drone, and in this case it sits out there anonymously and tries to make keira feel bad… for being keira.

im no psychologist but typically when i encounter blog hatin’ and trolls, i usually take it as people who feel horrible about their own lives and desperately want attention. because they have little creativity and zero self-esteem they use their little computers to try to get in the way of someone minding their own business.

its juvenile and sad, pathetic, and unfortunately, unavoidable.

my best advice to people who experience the annoying trolls in their lives is to ignore them. what they want is attention, therefore the worst thing you can do to them is ignore them.

but because keira is such a sweet angel she chose to acknowledge the person sorta to prove that it aint no thing. which it aint.

we’ll see if that technique works. but usually in the blogosphere, ive noticed that when there is zero traffic the attention whores starve and shrivel up.

blogging should be about writing about things youre passionate about and sharing elements of your life that are interesting. keira is a wonderful blogger who takes us places that are beautiful and sweet. she and duane and miss 604 and the other bc bloggers have created a community that has taught me a lot of the vancity lifestyle which i was lucky enough to experience first hand.

maybe the hater is jealous by their world. maybe the hater wishes they had the guts to approach keira like a normal person. the sad thing is, there are very few people who i have met who are nicer than keira-anne which is why its so retardulous to come at her at any other way than with kindness.

but such is the blogosphere. sometimes.

instead of linking to the hater, how about revisiting the time the busblog interviewed keira-anne.

yesterday in north carolina barack obama was summarizing the latest debate when he appeared to scratch an itch in a very unusual way

– in a way that looked like he was flipping his opponent the bird.

was this a seinfeld moment? was he doing it coyishly?
is that even a word?

was this a johnny cash moment?

in disguise?

or was bro just trying to be more presidential?

my bro andy malcolm from top of the ticket asked some of these questions and instead of just answering him like normal people most of them flew off the handle (defensively, if you ask me), questioning andy’s journalistic chops for having the omg nerve to ask such a question of their candidate.

but some said – yes he flipped her off and it was awesome and i love him more because he flipped her off.

me, i dont know one person who itches their face with their middle finger.

and i know lots of people.

either way i think it was awesome.

update: this issue has seemed to have spread around the blogosphere

uk update: it appears as our friends across the pond have a finger-gate of their own

You don’t talk about him much any more. Does that mean his blog isn’t taking off?

Au contraire mon (probable) Celtics fan friend.

Kareem has slowly worked his way up the charts and as for April he is one of our Top 10 blogs at the Times.

he’s consistantly in the top 5 of our blogs in regards to comments, and recently you might have seen him mentioned and linked on Gawker, TMZ, NBA.com, and USA Today

recently he interviewed Carole King on his blog, and called the latest Dr. Suess movie racist.

oh and you might have seen him on the latest iPhone commercial:

yesterday was Kareem’s 61st birthday. if you wanna wish him a happy bday, its not too late.

and thanks for asking, im always happy to talk about all of our bloggers!

she and i had a deal that she would blog every day and not just that but she would say something Positive every day on her blog for a week.

it was an exercise in positive thinking. of positive doing. of positivity. it was an attempt at kickstarting what should be a beautiful life.

truth of the matter is danielle k does have a beautiful life – shes about to get a masters, shes the hottest babe in san dieger, she has a killer car, she has a beautiful wardrobe, and she is healthy and funny and pretty awesome. and i believe she has two bicycles if not three. with baskets and little bells.

but what she wants is a man. for some reason she hasnt had the easiest time finding a real man who isnt a dope and who isnt homeless and who will actually call her back after a hot date.

doesnt seem all that hard but sometimes the Lord gives us challenges. personally i think the Lord wants her to write her story down in a blawg so that when prince charming shows up and sweeps her off her feet she will have half of her story told and then she can start writing the second half and people could go awwww and know what a huge change in her life it all was.

but thats me, i think everyone should blawg. so since danielle k refuses to write, i will write for her. k? ready… go!

dear blawwwwg,

today i tried on four five sun dresses and i looked amazing in all of them. and as i changed clothes i caught myself half naked and damn i looked amazing in that too. so i just lazed around in my garters and matching bra. i saw a butterfly had entered my house somehow looking pretty so i took off my bra and slingshot it at the butterfly cuz only one hot bitch in this apartment and its ME. the butterfly got the hint and scrammed back into the pleasant san dieger clime.

then my phone rang. it was the pro golfer. he asked me if i had seen him at the masters. i was all yes. he said did you see me scratch my nose? i said um. he said, but danielle, i told you that when i scratch my nose it means im thinking of you. so i said, bitch if you were thinking of me id have some flowers on my kitchen table right now. and i hung up. seconds later there was a knock at the door and it was the florist and whoops.

then i picked up my favorite book, how to blog by my friend tony pierce. little does he know it but as soon as the summer starts im going to translate it in french because, have you noticed, there are hardly any really great french bloggers. thats gotta change.

later i rode my cute little bike to the market and this guy who swore he played shortstop for the padres asked me if he could take me to the game. i was all hmmm youre cute, whats your name? he said khalil. this guy looked exactly like a surfer. i said, khalil is a black mans name you big liar. and he was all but but. and i was all, later liar. and i got home, flipped on my cable tv and holy shit there was surfer boy playing short for the pads.

good thing he slipped his number into my canvas sack.

time to lay out!

xoxoxo
danielle

because, really, what can you do?

when i was a kid i was the only black dude in school, in town, on the court, on the field… seemingly in the world.

if i could have changed anything back then, i would have turned my afro into long flowing rocker hair. mostly because a few of my friends had that and i had the polar opposite.

but as i grew up i found that my crazy hair is what made me unique. its something that people could remember me by. only problem was, i didnt like standing out in a crowd. again, because i was the only black boy in town, i had had enough of standing out… i would have done anything to blend in for a day or two.

strangely, attending uc santa barbara when i did, i was in the minority again in regards to being one of the less than 2% african americans on campus. but that wasnt the strange part, the strange part was there were a certain amount of young ladies who never dated a guy with a fro before and were sick of the long haired surfers who had broken their hearts all through high school.

so needless to say i suddenly was happy to stand out. thus i let the fro gro as big as it could.

mother nature has a weird way of fucking with the program, however and something happened in college. not only did the melatonin sloooowly start fading from my skin but my fro stopped growing so huge. infact now i have absolutely zero hair on my head and im paler than many of my white friends.

but again, these are things that i have no control over, so whatevs, right? well. sorta. as you know im 101 years old. and as you know there are young ladies out there, some of whom, really like bloggers. as in really. problem is, some of these women are really young, like barely legal. thus they have been dating barely legal men, most of whom have no idea what a beer belly is.

when i was in college i weighed 120 pounds. i had a terrible stomach disorder, probably because my entire diet consisted of soda, mcdonalds, pizza, and potato chips. my stomach basically denied anything that came near it. i carried pepto in my glove box. i drank a lot of milk to soothe what ailed me down there. and believe it or not, but the hippies at school treated my maladies with nature’s #1 herb.

and believe it or not, but it worked. my stomach mellowed, i was able to eat, and now im able to cope without any medicine whatsoever.

but now i have a huge beer gut. huge compared to the tiny bellies of the youngins who tap on my window some nights. and strangely it makes mr confident not-so-confident.

so our good friend karisa has decided to help me lose the gut. she wants me to photograph all of the meals and snacks that i eat and tell her how big the dishes were. for years she has taught me that instead of fried chicken (you know us black folk) i should eat grilled chicken. instead of classic coke i should drink water or 100% juice. and instead of driving home and jumping into my pajamas before whatever might happen that night, i should do some *real* exercise like i dont know, run around the block or ride my bike to memphis and back or something.

its hard to argue with karisa because ive known her for a while now and ive seen her only get better with age while i have only gotten balder and fatter and dumber.

therefore for the next week or so, get ready to see my diet and my weight on this blog. i cant guarantee that it will always be pretty, but it will be true, and maybe you can play along in your blogs too.

above is the salad i normally make for myself at work

its that they dont know good art

forget studying science and math and electronic engineering. throw away your physics and biology and finance books, kids with dreams of driving fancy cars should learn from history and the present. the rich will buy anything.

never lay down your crayons. learn to mix oils. get fitted for berets.

not only will women disrobe and pose for you, but the rich will fork over $25-$30 million for paintings like the one above. and the best part about all of this: you dont have to die first.

back in the day you had to go crazy, cut off your ear, paint soup cans, croak, etc., but nowadays you just have to bust. so to speak.

besides the buckets of cash and naked babes, probably the best part of being an artist is you can get away with murder. you can dress like shit, you can smell like shit, your apartment can look shitty, you can paint on walls pretty much anywhere, you can act like a mad man, and you can even be broke most of your life and people will just sigh and think youre some sort of romantic.

poor plumbers dont get that sorta love.

who doesnt wanna wear overalls and splatter paint on the floor of an eastcoast farmhouse while sipping jd? who doesnt wanna sit around a parisian flat knocking out sunflowers? and who doesnt wanna sign and number barack + hope posters and just watch the money flow in?

paint, people. fuck accounting. fuck real estate. fuck dentistry. art = life. insanity = profit. big fat naked chicks = gazillions.

it has always been that way, it will always be this way, amen.

but bathroom walls aint what they used to be

except in Kuwait and Afghanistan where reporter Steve Featherstone was able to photograph the secret words of US military personnel who scrawled their negative feelings about the president, the war, and their enemies on the walls of the latrines.

Featherstone submitted some of the photographs of the walls to A Public Space for its January 2008 issue. And you can see more of the graffiti in this month’s Walrus magazine.

h/t MeFi

i preferred shaq but i did like how he jumped over a car here

but have you seen what that video looked like without the special effects?

meanwhile this was a pretty awesome pass