voici:

i read your blog and the desire to become utterly fearless in my own writing is magnified 1000x.

baby, im so not fearless. if i was i wouldn’t have to cower behind the nothing in this is true malarkey.

everything in this is true, sadly, but what is left out is even truer.

utterly fearless is a phrase ive never known. even in my best secret blog i held back because i knew one day i would show it to the person i was writing it to and she’d see me for the phoney bologna that i am.

if i was smart i would just switch over to a different url like renee’ did this weekend. but then again im not hot blonde and the most talented sixteen year old in america. shit, im nearly four times her age.

if i was fearless id tell you my age)

this having a blog on a site with your real name on it is for the birds when it comes to being fearless.

if i was fearless i would interview my dick more.

hi lil tone

hi

whats up?

ha ha, funny, i get it. why don’t you shut your pie hole and bring back ashley.

now you know why i don’t interview my dick.

problem with believing in possibilities is that i have the faintest hope that somewhere someone in a powerful position might want to actually hire me one day to do something like this for their media conglomerate and if they saw busblog uncensored their mind would be blown and they wouldn’t want to even consider sending me an email, let alone hiring me.

if i was fearless i would have about a thousand resumes out there in the world. i would actually send a formal request to the la times. i would actually try to write in a way that is printable for public consumption.

even though reality tv has been allowed to break the rules of prime time tv.

even though the white stripes has been allowed to break the rules of pop music.

even though Chicago has been allowed and rewarded in breaking the rules of making movies.

even though the president of the united states breaks so many rules every week that he’s ten times more punk rock than any real punk rockers ever were.

if i was fearless, dear reader, i would write about politics in an incendiary way so venomous… if i was fearless, i would cover sports.

if i was fearless i would have a girlfriend by now.

if i was fearless i would have remained a poet.

if i was fearless i would be a preacher.

if i was fearless there would be a 21 year old blonde girl’s name next to mine on the mailbox.

if i was fearless this shit would sizzle, daily.

chuck olsen has a white stripes / conan segment + beck’s blog + amy’s blog + mc brown’s photo journal from coachella

is it really okay to let them rollerskate all over the playoff floor at the staples center?

i want to chat with two girls tonight, but neither know that i want to chat with them. so hows that supposed to work out?

got motivated and cleaned the pad pretty well today. sometimes that will happen to me on a sunday. good thing, too, because karisa has two friends in from out of town and they might stop by after eating at pf changs and drinking at the rainbow.

the xbi had an independent company come in on friday and talk to some of us.

one of the questions was what do you like most about your job.

i said lack of paperwork.

i dont have to do reports, i dont have to do research, i dont have to do any damn projects, as long as i dont think about my work i dont “take it home” with me.

i just show up, strap on the helmet, and aim at the criminal element.

the interviewer said that she found that suprising because she was told that i was a writer and she would have thought that i would like doing reports and projects but i told her it wasnt true. i had done projects and written things for work in the past, at other jobs, and most of the people who read them didnt understand or like them, which can be disappointing when you put your heart into something.

the survey asked about vacation days, and sick days, and personal days, and the food in the break room, and health benefits, and spending plans, and i told them that none of that shit interested me.

i told them that i liked to work and when companies put the right people in the right jobs you dont have to spend so much time and money in all that bullshit, but the problem is companies put people who arent great in positions and then get stubborn about moving them into the right places once they get to know them.

you can have a perfectly good guy working in one cubicle for one department, but he’s not so great at that job. and you can have another guy in a cubicle right next to the first guy, and that guy isnt doing so good at his job either.

and in any other galaxy they would just swap the two and see if it works, and odds are it would work, but on this planet there are reviews, and write ups, and people making stuff up, and feelings getting hurt, and talking behind peoples backs and all this crapola, and then there needs to be resumes printed, and interviews and meetings.

its exhausting just to think about.

me and my last girlfriend would work out our problems naked on a sunday night like tonight in our bed of love and still sometimes we couldnt work everything out.

and thats two people who truly love each other.

the interviewer asked me what my point was.

i told her that when you are doing things right, and you have the right person in the right place, they dont need a bunch of sick days, they just need a boss who is cool when the person tells them that hes sick.

she said life isnt like that.

i said i know.

she said, do you think youre right for the xbi?

i said, ask chopper one.

bunsen + steve + jennifer + litwack

by my man souptree

tony: difference is, i know these people.

brian: word

kitty bukkake just ran the boston marathon. whats kitty bukkake doing running the boston marathon.

she is from mass, and she is a marathon runner, i guess.

last year i knew four people who ran the la marathon. three were from mass and they were all girls.

sadly none of them allowed me to see closely the positive effects of marathoning on a young woman’s physique.

the closest i got was the closest you got, which was last years picture of kitty with her nice medal.

you totally deserve a medal for running a damn marathon. especially if it does that to your body.

you know the problem with the tribune corp who owns the la times, is they forgot what they grew up with.

i grew up with mike royko. and if he was 109 years old and had hot friends, not only would he have a sweet blog on the chicago tribune, but he’d put up sweet pictures of his hot friends.

not only does the tribune corp not have a blog, but no way in hell would they 1) show sweet pics of their hot friends, 2) let some fool post at 3:21am on a saturday night after a second drunken night with the girl next door, or 3) let him type bukkake.

sad thing is, if i did have a blog on the la times, it would be so hard to write because i couldnt type bukkake even though thats what la times readers would probably like to know.

me, i want to know everything. i scour the web in all of my free time. imagine if there was something interesting and worthwhile every damn day from your hometown newspaper.

in all of los angeles, i pass the newsstand and the times looks up at me and i look down and i say in all of los angeles, this is the best that you can give me?

met this hot chick at the ivar last night. we stared at each other because we thought we recognized each other. turned out she lived next on the next block. next door, practically.

probably the hottest chick in the whole club and there she was talking to me and sitting back on the couch like she actually wanted to be there.

she was doing 151s and coke and la may be my lady but baccardi is my baby.

did three, no problem. had two beers. we laughed. i smiled so much it was like i had no other expression.

she went outside to smoke and we started making out

as an experiment, thank you.

i have this theory that if you think a girl is hot see if you still think that way after she kisses you with smokers breath.

sometimes they retain their hotness.

tradegy struck this morning, however, as i realized that i had no more memory about the evening than that smokers breath experiment.

and there being a secret balcony upstairs at the ivar, which leads to the roof

which leads to please let there be on in my wallet

which leads to thank you for being there

then no more memory. then quick flash of me tossing the used one by a swirly vent and her taking pictures.

then her friends limo then jack in the crack curly fries then thank you limoman

then my floor then my hallway then my bed but just places memory, thats all you have?

ah yes and the condoms.

all my brain seems to worry about when completely wasted is birth control.

i dont think any music was put on the boom box. i dont think any candles were lit.

you know how sometimes you might be dreaming and that person changes into another person.

did i call this girl by the wrong name, did i say anything lame

i wanted to ask her all of these questions today when she came back but she was with her friend and they both got me drunk again and all we did was laugh and tell ghost stories with the lights off like dorks.

while having a breath holding contest, her friend barfed which is usually a buzz kill, in the dark, at least at my place.

so the one chick took her limo back to the valley and the neighbor walked herself back around the block.

and heres something else you’ll never see in the la times blog

and her momma deserved a medal for making that girls ass

kitty bukkake + no creativity

shes my true love for lots of reasons but the latest reason is because she just called me from the pit of the main stage at coachella telling me that the beastie boys were just about to take the stage and nearly on cue i heard mix master mike being introduced, a two minute scratching tribute for jam master jay and then my favorite rap group of all, the beasties.

i laid there on my leather couch, turned down the osbournes, watched my pipe smoking unattended, and marveled at the quality of a cell phone from the desert.

i love that girl with all my heart.

hang up any time you want, she told me, and i listened to the whole song, and she came back on the phone and said that she loved me and i told her that i loved her too and told her thanks and she said bye and i said bye.

you might be like me and watch a lot of e! true hollywood stories, well i live in hollywood and this is a true story, im the luckiest man. i may not get everything that i want, or even some of what i want, but i have been blessed with the coolest girlfriends on earth.

just wednesday as a matter of fact i was on the phone with my true love and she was in pain because her neck was bothering her and i told her that i would take the bus right over to santa monica and massage her neck.

she thanked me and told me it wasnt necessary, that her doctor had finally come through with the real meds.

i told her that i was out the door, that i would rub her feet, that i would rub her back, that i would rub her front.

she said she’d be asleep before my bus even made it through west hollywood.

i told her i was going to hijack the bus and floor it down santa monica blvd.

she said dont say hijack.

i told her i was gonna busjack that mother and grand theft auto that shit, crashing into the blockbuster near her house and then run to her pad and slide in through the back door and give her what she needs so badly.

she said that what she needed so badly was sleep.

i reminded her how beautifully we slept together.

she sighed a sweet sigh.

later i said something dirty and then asked her when we’d make beautiful love again.

she told me it had been two years since we had made any love, beautiful or otherwise and things didnt look good for us ever doing it again.

it hadnt occured to me that it had been that long, nor that we wouldnt ever indulge again. ever.

what sort of fantasy had i made up about our future together?

at 109 years old i knew that even if two people were perfect together, and they both knew it and said so all the time, that it still didnt mean that the girl would want any of it.

not even a taste. nor a nibble. nor a bite. nor a lick. or two. or twenty. or twenty two.

i got sad for a breif minute and she could hear it and said she was sorry. i said its ok.

she said dont be sad.

i said im not sad, but i lied.

and when she came over the next day i took hella pictures of her ass so i could remember that id never have that again.

i need to start remembering that.

tina + annessa + splink + j_live

he is going to coachella today. just like chris. just like karisa. just like everyone i know.

but unlike everyone i know, only mc brown would have the capability to take pictures and then upload them to his pblog so that all of us, even you, could see what its like to go to the coolest festival of the summer. even before summer has started.

join us now as marc brown goes into the desert to see the likes of the white stripes, sonic youth, the beastie boys, the donnas, iggy and the stooges, queens of the stone age, blur, ben harper, the hives, blue man group, interpol, gomez, black eyed peas, dirty vegas, johnny marr, the red hot chili peppers, nerd, wild child, ian mackaye (spoken word) and many more.

why arent i going? many reasons. biggest of all because im a jackass. and cuz tsar wont be there.

sign up tsar next time, big shots, and you can have my $150 and my two days of eating your food and drinking your costly water.

it’s nice to have people to live through in real time (or, like the stock market results, delayed by 5-15 minutes). even if their photos are stretched to 640×380 even though he doesnt want them to. and even though the time function is innacurate on the photo blog.

me, im sobering up from a wild night last night that i will blog about as soon as i get everything sorted out.

and my dss is still down.

and i have a hangover.

and im hungry + thirsty.

and i cant believe its only saturday.

a very special madpony + sk smith is always special + raymi can call me anything she wants

i want to fix my satelitte dish but my neighbors are outside and i dont want to talk to them. secretly im painfully shy. and not very cool. you’ll see.

last night i caught the subway to vine and walked three blocks north to karisas pre birthday party. her real birthday isnt for a few weeks but she and some other ladies who are also taureses threw a threeway taurus birthday bash at the newest hottest coolest club in la, the wild orchid, formerly the crush bar.

the crush bar had been a bad quasi gay 80s pop dance club for as long as i can remember. in my opinion it was never cool, but it was always there. a staple. a place tourists might go if they didnt know where to go or couldnt get in to some of the better places.

recently somebody bought it or sold it or redesigned it or whatever, but now its wild orchid and people are going crazy over it.

which explained the huge line at 10pm, and the fact that nobody, even these three pretty cute girls werent allowed behind the velvet rope.

but im tony pierce. and im friends with one of the birthday girls.

maybe they had a guest list. so i told the bouncer my name and he looked on the list and my name wasnt on it. then he said. tony pierce?

i said, yes.

he said, what happened to your fro?

i laughed and told him that i lost a bet and he told me it looked good. i said thanks. then he told me i should go to the ivar and to tell them that earl sent me.

i said, but i want to have a drink with karisa for her pre birthday.

and he said aint nobody getting in there, but he did whip out a ten and flowed the busblog.

51. earl

so i went to the ivar. confused, but laughing, cuz sometimes this shit just writes itself.

almost there + cofeenated + fearful symmetry

i missed you too. this morning at the xbi was ca-rrrraaazzzyy let me tell you.

but enough about me. lets talk about you.

i hear you went to see Maria McKee last night at the world famous roxy on the fabulous sunset strip. God im so jealous.

did you have pre-show drinks next door at the Rainbow with two of my ex-girlfriends and my lawyer on the patio being served by hands down the hottest bartendress of all time. think blonde, super cute face, huge implants, betty page hairdo but blonde remember, hairnet, and the lowest hanging jeans youve ever seen. definate butt crack cleavage action which i never thought would be cute, but alas, its cute.

anyway what did you order from this bartendress? i would have started with a double baileys with a little creme on ice. but if she was that hot, i bet i would have ordered one and then another, and then maybe some water. and then maybe asked her where the mens room is, even though you know theyre upstair, past karisa at the ms pacman.

and then i woulda ordered a beer when jeanines sister and crazy friend showed up.

i hear Maria was good. im not in love with her new cd but im still in love with her. people were asking me about her way back during the lone justice days (when she was blonde) and i would say that she was a cross between janis joplin and dolly parton. nice combo if you can get it. and now i would add that she looks like a younger grace slick with her dark hair and wild eyes.

can she still sing her damn ass off? did she do that tune off the Pulp Fiction soundtrack? the one where she whistles? fucking a i love that one.

anyhow, i bet you had a great time.

get any?

50. kay

steph and lola (pictured) amuse me + Quinn likes Raymi + tc 210 has my back + and Shift is the shi*t + as is jaded girl

and asked me to take down the link to her site because she was getting too much traffic and it was messing with her chi.

i said fuck your chi.

but i did as i was asked and took down her name and link and put up the boing boing link, which is in the spot where the auction-winning link will go.

lots of hits can affect the way that you write and for jenny i have this bit of advice, dont pay any attention to the spikes when they come. if you do pay attention, only pay attention to why you are getting the hits and how many they are, but when it comes to writing put aside any thought about hits whatsoever.

what i do is i pretend that only one person is reading what i write. normally i think that karisa is the only person reading this.

i know that hundreds and hundreds are reading this, but if i think about that it would alter what i write.

i know that my family is probably reading this, and if i think about that, it would definately alter what i write.

one way to keep it real, jenny, is to write stuff that youre too self-conscious to write.

for example, i love my mom with all my heart, but she doesnt like it when i swear. therefore if i feel like im selling out because im afraid she might be reading that day, i make sure to say fuck a few times.

fuckfuckfuckfuck.

this wont really stop her from reading, but it balances out things so that i can get back to writing to karisa.

hi.

dodger ace sandy koufax said that the key to pitching is relaxation and concentration. i think the same could be said to writing on your blog.

i relax with a generous portion of rum. mc brown has gotten me into captain morgan’s spiced rum.

i think the relaxation part is simple.

the concentration part is a little tougher, and thats where your audience of one situation comes in. nobody gets nervous writing a letter to a good friend, and when you write those letters they usually end up focused and direct and good.

if you are trying to write to a huge mass of people who’s devoted readership is important to you, youre going to run into trouble.

spikes are spikes. most of those people will never come back to you. never. thats not a sad thing, its normal. think about how many sites and blogs you go to every day and how many you return to.

people arent going to stay. dont be sad. be liberated.

but also know that some will stay. and they’ll stay because of the general way that you write, not because of anything special you write that day where everyone is coming.

dont be afraid, jenny yeah. youre a good blogger. you have good design. if that picture is really you, youre a hot babe.

im sure your chi is fine regardless of how many clicks get sent your way from the busblog.

jenny + jenny’s photo gallery