and to celebrate i would like to make a big fancy announcement that i im quitting this, or starting something new, or doing something different, or renewing my vows for another year, or something.

but one thing i wont be announcing is that i will turn this into an aol blog.

yes, two years after the fact, eternally late to the party, aol will soon have blogs.

the mighty jeff jarvis from the buzzmachine is testing out aol’s new “journal” ap in BuzzMachine II, and the framework of it doesnt look any different than aol’s pathetic failure when they tried to give their users geocities-styled web pages.

does anyone really go to any hometown.aol web pages on the regular?

i dont, and i surf the web probably 20 times more than the average man.

obviously embarrased by the popularity of their users going to blogger and blogspot and diaryland and open diary, aol is thinking, “shit, our 5 million users are going somewhere else other than the safe enviorns of the aol country club, and if they see that this is all just a big farce, they will probably leave us forever.”

which isnt true.

aol users dont actually think.

thats what makes them aol users.

i saw a kid riding a skateboard the other day.

skateboarding is still very popular here in hollywood.

and i thought, if aol ruled the world, they would slap training wheels on skateboards and charge kids $20/month to go slower and be able to do fewer things.

jarvis is a terrific writer, and an innovator, and he’s doing his best working with the afterthought that is aol journals, but anyone who has seen a sophomore year computer science student’s homework assignment has seen what i am seeing with the aol journal: copycat bullshit created to see if it could be re-created.

aol is not providing their members with anything they cant get just as easilly anywhere else. they are not providing their users with anything that they have asked for.

and once again they are creating something that isnt even half as good as what they are trying to copy.

aol: try to at least be half as good.

if i was an aol user i would want 1) less spam, 2) dsl and/or cable access 3) wireless access 4) lower prices.

a big ass company, even one doomed to implode at any minute, should be able to have the muscle to make those things happen.

once that has been established, then you can branch out to these extra credit ventures.

aol has had some big wins with AIM and porn. because of aol more kids get to sex chat with more adults than ever before in human history. and because of them more kids get to see Barnyard Fun ads in their inboxes, daily.

therefore, perhaps this white elephant should just do what its best at and partner up with porn companies since thats really been the business that theyve been in all along, and to be honest, that is what their lazy, clueless, technically timid userbase has wanted all along.

not homepages.

not blogs.

but boobies that they can smile over.

while they wear their wifebeater shirts and sailor caps

at the beach.

folded space + etoy + chuck olsen

know why? because if i decided to drive two and a half blocks through people at the farmer’s market killing men women and children at 2pm, i will be able to get released by the cops and go home in time for dinner.

oh wait, im not white.

and i dont belong to the brentwood presbyterian church.

and im not kindly.

thats the only reason me and my buddy os can figure out why George Russell Weller, 86, isnt in lockdown after killing nine people, leaving 15 with critical injuries and injuring more than 50.

according to a witness who spoke to tv reporters after the melee mr. weller might not be that kindly after all.

“he said after he got out of his car, ‘if you heard me coming, why didnt you get out of the way.'” a woman told the nbc local news.

my buddy os saw the whole beginning of the tragedy.

he said he heard a crash. it was the old man vs. a mercedes sedan. the sedan lost. then old man rammed it again and pushed it out of the way.

os thought he was witnessing a simple hit and run. until he saw a man get tossed into the air and then a woman get crushed while the old mans car continued to accelerate.

he and i wondered if perhaps the old man’s cane got stuck underneath the brake and atop the accelerator, meaning every time he hit the brake the gas was pressed down further.

poor kindly old man.

who got mad at people after he killed them.

but dont you think if you begin to realize that your brake isnt working, that infact youre going faster each time you hit your brake, that you steer into a building or a tree or anything other than people and people and people and children?

kindly answer me this, santa monica cops: if he was black and not old…

no, thats not a fair question.

but seriously, is this reverse agism? when youre old do you literally get away with murder?

and what of his safety? why release the guy when he might want to kill himself once he realizes that he’s an asshole?

and whos gonna clean that up?

and why is it that the tv news didnt ask the question that i keep asking here: how can you be released from custody within hours after you drive down a blocked off street at high speeds and kill people?

according to the la times, the santa monica police chief said that he was released for three reasons:

“One, he’s a licensed driver. Two, he’s a city resident; And three, he’s not a flight risk,” the times reported the chief of saying.

ok so i can drive over people as long as i have a license and i hit the people who live in my town, that part im cool with.

but how does the chief know he’s not a flight risk? whats keeping mr. weller from running over people on his way to mexico. or taking a plane to canada and running people over there?

what makes someone not a flight risk? are his wings clipped?

all i know is mexico is four hours away. three the way bro was driving. and if i was him and i wanted to see my 87th birthday i would head south and say adios, cuz unless the cops are going to pin this on oj, the old man is gonna get it.

i just want to know why he gets to sit at home and wait this out while his victims are either being measured for pine boxes or are being treated in one of the ten local hospitals.

must. learn. to. be. more. kindly.

path of car + maybe the instapundit knows + maybe the good doc knows

and of course he’s right.

#7 Jul 16 2003, 06:47 pm

al3x

now its true i do take requests, and al3x was polite enough to say please, so i might have to give the man what he wants purely on principle.

not that it would be hard.

im not the most lovable man.

i sweat when i sleep.

i enjoy the bible.

and pornography.

i really know way too much about sports, and most women find that annoying.

and then theres this blog, and the website, and the busriding. those three things dont usually add up to a lot of fornication, i dont care how big your dick is.

i dont like to read very many books, i hate dancing, and i like to do it three times a day.

who’s gonna want that from their man, al3x?

im not handy, i dont like salads, im messy, i dont cook, id rather not go out on friday nights, im a terrible dresser, im not interested in money, i like hip hop metal and punk, and im always changing my mind.

girls dont like to lose at scrabble.

i fucking whip their asses at scrabble.

girls dont like being called girls.

girls dont like it when i call the united states america. they tell me that america includes north south and central america, not just the usa.

and then theres the problem about the fact that on the rare occasions that i do get a little action, i always wear condoms.

always.

how am i gonna have any children doing that, my man?

so worry not, old chap, if your fear of a hundred little tonys running around this fine world in a few years has you losing sleep, rest your pretty little head.

besides

your momma swallows everything i got.

jaime + oliver + reverse cowgirl

yesterday i tried to cut off all ties with a super hot chick. as ashley can tell you, im not good at that. im starting to think that i have no say when it comes to the ladies.

i hadnt been talking to her for a while and she would shoot off one volley of email after the next in such a tone that i thought she was planning on assinating me.

tell me what time i can come over tonight.

never, ho.

please, tony, what time can i come over.

sometimes you just want a few minutes to get your shit together, to build a case, to get your little speech ironed out.

for her i had decided i wasnt going to have any speech. it was just going to be over. forever. we had had this issue a few times before. there had been words. if the problem wasnt going to be fixed forever, then i was willing to cut my losses and get out of the drama.

i hate drama.

all week we had been bickering and you dont want to get me involved in an email fight because i have some stealth weapons that really shouldnt be allowed into the field of play. and i have an itchy trigger finger. and i have no patience. and i can be easilly pissed off in the heat of the moment.

because i respected her and promised after the last war that i wouldnt use those weapons, i didnt. and in retrospect i feel a little proud because she had been unapologetic during this skirmish and it would have been very easy to begin with the pandoras box of insults and diatribes.

i did love this girl. and i still do. and some of the scars from those past assaults are slow to heal. so i was extra careful this time.

big mistake because she came over looking better than id ever seen her. she was apologetic. she was perfect actually. i was beaten down by life and a six pack. she held my hand and told me how sorry she was. i tried to change the subject once the thai food had arrived, but she wanted to tell me how important i was in her life.

it made it hard for me to stay mad at her. but i was doing a good job.

she looked at me with her sparkling green eyes and i looked at the all star game instead.

she put her head on my lap and looked up at me.

i at the cracks in the fireplace.

i didnt do much talking. i didnt smile much. i was trying to harden my heart. i was succeeding. she said things and i listened and before i knew it i was back to being her little bitch and i wasnt sure if that was failure or not.

everything is failure.

and then she went home.

and i felt better, and i was able to finish my tsar photo essay, and i slept well, and i woke up well, and i got on the bus well, and we still havent found the missing xbi guy.

and if you cut a tree open you’ll see its rings.

this week has been a ring.

ive aged a whole year.

i need another beer.

new photo dealie

and visit every state. along the way i think i would like to go to a bowling alley in each state, and also go to a drive-in in each state. i would also like to dare each state to show me a better time than the previous one. i would also like to drink a local beer wherever i go. i would also like to spread goodwill towards men, and greatwill towards women.

i would also like to take a lot of pictures and show them to you.

i would also like to know what youd like to do.

i dated a nympho in frisco (not pictured) and we’d go to the skyline drive-in in daly city and shed attack me and barely let me up for air. i never knew nympos existed but they do. she was sorta ashamed but not really. she reminded me of an alien from another planet. i believe. she only wanted one thing. it was nuts. chinese. nice boobs. cutest eyes and best voice.

lived with her parents in south san francisco and we talked on the phone a lot at first and she would keep asking me to take her out and i would tell her that i dont date girls from aol and she would tell me the things she would do to me and i said hmmm and she would tell me the things i could do to her but all i wanted to do was meet her.

men always hope for control but rarely get it.

i believe she was twenty.

we didnt see jurassic park two we didnt see the cable guy we didnt see a lot of things.

strangely she didnt like being touched.

or kissed.

if i tried to get close she would giggle and stop and take a deep breath and giggle and say one or the other. and i would kiss her and she would say wrong other and put me inside her and say tony.

i cant say that i felt used after a while but i did.

i cant say that it was entirely enjoyable but it was interesting.

i cant say that i would want my sons to experience this phenomenon but yes i can. i would want them to see the extreme register on the vu meter because it shows you that you can eat too much cake for breakfast.

that you can go to the drive in too much.

but the drive in was always nice.

and i miss the ones theyve torn down around this town.

neens + taupe + la encantada

of single women who dont even know me for this blog. which is refreshing because i am not the stud in real life that my writing staff portrays me as in these pixels.

for the most part im a timid, unsure, skittish little man, barely able to put two words together without the aid of cue cards or smoke signals along the horizon. which has made the various blind dates that ive been on recently quite an adventure.

the benefit of dating women who read this journal is that they understand that i dont own a car, that i have a terrible memory, and that all of my faults should be ignored because im such a sensitive poet. faults like being nearly penniless despite the beach house in malibu and the hollywood hills villa.

and flying car.

and pirate’s booty.

the girls from friendster are picture-happy. they send me their pictures and i send them mine. i dont send any that marc brown has taken because he always catches my wrong side. all my sides are my wrong side which is why i will always love ashley even if i am avoiding her because she tells me that i am a handsome stud no matter what sorry ass picture she sees of me. and sometimes, especially in my case, flattery will get you everywhere.

to the left is a picture i took when i first moved away from frisco to LA back in 98 and broke up with my true love.

some neighbors had poisoned my salad with magic mushrooms on a hot summer day like today and i got back to jeanines apartment where i shared a futon with her and i looked at the mirror and i said damn im one hot tamale. and i took a picture. at the time i didnt know that my stomach would soon expand but at least i have this evidence that i once looked halfway decent.

now i look about one quarter decent and that quarter is from my knee down to my toes.

i have been told i have beautiful feet.

i have no idea where this post is going.

what was the point? oh yes, friendster girls.

hi friendster girls. thank you for being my friendster. thank you for adding me to your long lists of strangers. thank you for writing me. thank you for inviting me to your 21st birthdays.

i imagine that one day i will be too old to date 21 year old girls, but i see hef and tony randall doing it so maybe that day will be when i turn 125.

until then they will have to suffer with my tales of horseless carriages and they will make me live through Postal Service cds.

and one day my children will ask me why i married their mother and i will say

boredom and defeat.

and then i will ask him not to talk to me for the rest of the evening if its ok with them.

tossed and turned. fell asleep. woke up. my stomach was gurgling from too much diet dr. pepper and i just laid on my back and felt the breeze saunter in through the screen window. it reminded me of being a kid in illinois but even then i could sleep like a rock. last night was different. besides the full moon there was definately a disturbance in the force much worse than my beloved all star game falsely being held at comiskey.

fell asleep finally in the wee hours after focusing on thinking about anything other than i had been thinking about. had several dreams which is also rare since the xbi had snipped that part of my brain. drempt that i had called over a hottie to spend the night with me, someone who would ignore my gracelessly aging face, someone who would just lay there with me and protect me as the goblins and ghosts bukkaked all over my innocent thoughts. someone who would tell me that it would be ok. someone who said id be their first round draft pick. but in the dream she said she had to wake up early in the morning and would have to take a rain check.

then i had a dream that i was assigned to drive from one red lobster to another to taste the quality from property to propery. strange and dangerous duty but what good job isnt deadly in one way or another. lobster for lunch, shrimp for dinner. every day. every night. woke up and found that i still hadnt slept very much. thought about writing. thought about finishing my thing on tsar that i started the other night but that just made me sad.

fell asleep and had a third dream. again, trust me when i tell you i dont dream. i dont cheat on my girlfriends, i dont eat onions, i dont dream. had a dream that i was expecting an email that was going to change my life. and i clicked and clicked and found nothing. then it occured to me that maybe i had deleted it thinking it was spam. i get so many emails and many are spam disguised as real emails with subject headers that say Hey or Love Your Site or Add Inches Now and who doesnt want to be taller? but none of those emails are it. its just a bad dream for a bad person.

i fall asleep and wake up with howard stern talking to tori spelling and he asks her if she has ever had sex on a plane and she says yep. he asks if she was wearing a skirt and she says yep, he asks her if she wore panties and she says she hardly ever wears panties and youd think she could afford some but i guess some people want to be independent and not have to ask their parents for everything.

i fall asleep for a few more minutes and wake up, strangely rested because the gurgling in the stomach had stopped, the radio had stopped, the breeze had stopped and all the thinking in the mind had stopped and nelly gets put into the boombox its girlfriend the duet with justin timberlake and i step into the shower and think about how long its been since ive had a girlfriend and i dont know if thats a good thing or a bad thing and then the phone rings and its the girl i had dreampt about who told me no thanks and she says that she wants to see me tomorrow night but i tell her that i have plans and she says what about thursday night and i say what about your boyfriend and she says what about friday night and i say i have to drink a lot on friday night and she said i might be able to get a fake id by friday and i think maybe i am better off without a girlfriend. and when i get to the train, a hot chick with a victoria secrets gift bag is reading bukowski and im so stunned i dont say a word.

jason + jason + jason + jason + jason + jason + jason

ichiro suzuki and albert pujols (pictured) are the two best players in baseball. this year they were the top vote-getters in their respective leagues. tomorrow they will play against each other in the annual major league baseball all star game which will be held in what could be the worst stadium in baseball, bank one us cellular field, formerly the new comiskey in the south side of chicago.

if i traveled around the country i would want to get one day jobs. id like to be a short order cook one day, a waiter the next, a bartender the next, an airport luggage handler, a mcdonalds drive thru cashier, a swanky hotel conceirge, a waterboy, a chauffer, a bell hop, a caberet barker, a seven eleven graveyard shift cashier, a long shoreman, a wedding dj, a girls gone wild cameraman, a technical director of a tv show, a bailiff, the reader of the gospel at a southern baptist church, an organ grinder, a candlestick maker, a baker, a butcher, a pizza man, a 911 operator, a singer of the national anthem, the guy who plays the cds of anthem rock at the basketball game, a substitute teacher, a hot dog vender at a bus stop, a blackjack dealer on an indian reservation, a home plate umpire, a taxi cab driver, a herse driver, a subway sandwich artist, a subway car driver, talk show host, coal miner, fine diner.

voice over talent.

i would also like to do some volunteering.

like at the playboy mansion.

for the winter.

i could sleep above the garage.

walk around with my laptop and blog inconspiculously.

maybe the chefs can teach me to cook.

and hef can teach me to rock.

and the gardeners can teach me to garden.

and the ladies can teach me about the ladies.

tomorrow you should watch ichiro suzuki and albert pujols who you how baseball should be played.

its my favorite.

its the all star game.

noah glass + kate sullivan + 6urn7 10v3

and dip into the mailbag. lets see what the kids are saying today.

Subject: i linked you

Date: Fri, 11 Jul 2003

hey there, i was reading through some posts etc. on your site and found it really enjoyable.

there isn’t many sites are just based on pure content and i admire that, my site used to be but since then its more of a whorey operation, looking for the big hits the cheaper way (though absolutely failing to succeed – I’ll go back to it once there’s an audience).

I found your link on a link of lameking.net, who is another site that has great posts.

so anyway i noticed you wanted to be told if you were linked so i thought i’d send you this, i’m not expecting any payback for it, just have a lot of free time.

Mike

——

Date: Fri, 11 Jul 2003 22:44:15 GMT+01:00

Subject: my adoration…

Hi Tony,

I love your blog. I found the busblog a few months ago – I was directed your way by JimmyT (The Joint), so you can blame him for my tony-lurve!

I check out your blog everday. Your photo essays rock, too. You’re the man, tony! Unfortunately I can’t come and stalk you as I live in England, but it’s the thought that counts, right? 😉

Just wanted to let you know that I’m reading and lovin’.

Kate

XXXX

——–

From: “the lost one”

Subject: great site. thank you.

To: blog@tonypierce.com

hey – while i am not linking to you, i want you to know i thoroughly enjoy your site. it looks like you enjoy the hell out of doing it. it shows.

my blog is in transition. but when it grows up, it wants to be like yours.

right now, it just plain sucks.

take care,

the lost one

http://vita.blogeye.com

———

From: nice girl

To: bloggy@tonypierce.com

Date: Sun, 13 Jul 2003 13:48:29 -0600

I don’t know why I feel inclined to tell you this, but I had a dream about you last night. I can’t really remember it all that well, but I know that I talked to you, heard your voice. Your voice was very clear, and had a very fine resolution to it (for lack of a better way to describe it.)

Anyway, I also wanted to thank you for commenting the other day. It’s flattering to know that you’ve even seen my site. A lot of times I come to your site first for inspiration before I post. You definitely have a unique voice, and a unique way of expressing your views. So thanks for being my muse from time to time.

D–

——

Date: Mon, 14 Jul 2003 06:30:31 -0700 (PDT)

From: “Pam”

Subject: your blog, what else

To: blog@tonypierce.com

hey, tony 🙂

your blog still manages to overwhelm me everyday.

i work in a newspaper and a couple of weeks ago, i printed out “just words” and posted it on my computer table. i don’t know if that’s okay with you, i’ve been feeling guilty about it and that’s why i wrote to tell you. if you want me to take it down, i will. anyway, as a result of that, other people from my office have started reading your blog too 🙂

you seemed to be down in your last post – but i know that won’t last. because if it did, you wouldn’t be tony pierce, you would just be like the rest of us.

take care.

keep knocking us down with your powerful words.

🙂

pam