here i am in beautiful aruba, land of iguanas, blue seas, white beaches and some of the most overweight tourists in the world and instead of combing the resorts for thong-clad topless european travelers to meet and make up stories about, here i am in an internet cafe writing you.

i just got done gambling and drinking in the Crystal Casino, the island’s only twenty four hour gambling den. everyone is very nice to you here. they speak several different languages because no one can make up their mind as to who should own this tropical wonderland.

this afternoon we took the airconditioned bus tour around the island. the whole place is very small so it only took us a few hours to hit all the hot spots. my advice: don’t take the tour. stay in the resort, wade in the pool, suck up the drinks and if you get adventurous experience the 80 degree sea and the pearly white sands. theres nothing going on away from the beach except for a goat looking for water to get his beard wet while atop a strange rock formation.

do i love you all? of course.

will i move here one day? never. there truly isn’t anything going on here which is why most of the 100k locals dream of moving to the netherlands or holland, whichever will give them a job.

its warm here and its windy. my taxi driver told me that the wind is your friend. if theres no wind you feel the 90 degree temps and you sweat like crazy. with the wind you love where you are and you don’t complain.

these are some of the sweetest and smartest people on the planet but i think that they are cruel sometimes. there were native “indians” who once inhabited this isle and to acknowledge them they named the local beer after them. i don’t think that’s nice since we know how “indians” and alcohol don’t mix.

the women are short and dark and sweet and can dance dance dance. they love americans. they love sorta dark americans like me. everywhere i go they say hi to me and wave. my mother rented the most hideous mini van that has a huge rent-a-car sticker on the hood and on the door but still the ladies wave. i was thinking about going to one of the night clubs here and seeing the locals shake their groove thing but they take their dancing very serious here. in february and march, for example, they celebrate Carnival and they dance all day and all night for 10 hours a day for two weeks.

i asked the college girl at the Aloe factory if people show up to work hung over after a night of Carnival and she says the whole island wakes up hung over but they just shake it off and go back to dancing while at work.

why not?

there are palm trees with coconuts. there are parrots, there are lizards, there are europeans who sunbathe with their tops off, there are dogs and chickens and lots of channels on the television.

last night we all watched the Sopranos on HBO and if that isn’t your way to vacation, too bad, it’s mine.

signing off from Internet Pl@net in the airconditioned glamour of the Crystal Shopping center somewhere in paradise, this is your pal tony reminding you that if you come here bring one bag of cash and another bag of sunscreen.

hasta!

p.s. thanks to my pal who is updating this page with classic posts!!!

i said, aaaah. i aint trying to make no troubles.

she said, all this bs about women writers being crazy.

i said, take it easy. first nothing in here is true.

she said, thats the biggest lie around.

i said, second i didnt even say it, whalen said it. and i dont even know if he believed it when he said it.

she said, well you should stop saying it.

i said, i didnt even say it!

she said, cuz then people will think that you think it’s true.

i said, i do think its true, but i never said it.

she said, i dont need you anyway, the lady that they said was me just got several million dollars from penthouse and i’ll get mine soon and i didnt even have to pose, and i would appreciate it if you took down that weirdo photo essay that you have of me.

i said, i’d appreciate it if you won a tournament.

she said, id appreciate it if you just shut your big fat mouth.

i said, i know.

she said, what are you doing tonight?

i said, anna, my life is so bizarre, i could be doing a bunch, i could be doing nothing, i really dont have the foggiest. i could walk down the street and meet christina aguelera or i could–

she said, thats not how you spell her name.

i said, i know.

she said, i thought she was on your list.

i said, what list?

she said, everyone has a list of people who they’d do.

i said, do?

she said, yeah, my list is harrison ford, adam sandler, mel gibson, brad pitt, and john cusack.

i said, john cusak?

she said, yeah. now who’s on yours?

i said, i dont even

she said, come on its just fun.

i said, ok, you, mariah, madonna, christina aguelera, drew barrymore, and this chick who lives down the street.

she said, thats six you can only have five.

i said, ok, cross your name off the list.

she said, you prick.

i finally put up a new interview. this is one of a canadian girl. she was pretty cool. maybe we will chat again.

im watching the angels make a spectacular comeback.

chris is coming to pick me up and take me away.

my mom is now saying that i cannot use any computers on the road.

lefty tony seems to think that he can update this while im gone, but im not so sure. so if this is all you see then so be it.

the skinny girl might want your attention. shes doing better. so that makes me happy.

thanks to all the people who stoked me by flowing the bus blog last month. thanks to my brother in law for the first class upgrades.

no thanks to best buy who didnt fix my camera on time.

i guess i’ll just have to write long hand and read trashy novels and relax and drink and sleep and eat.

i will come back, but dont call it a comeback.

aloha,

tony

im sure theres a kid in your town who likes to try to be weird, and might be in a pretty great band and is doesnt suck at art and has some hot girlfriends. thats not all that suprising.

our freaky boy is marilyn manson who lives on the same block as karisa in hollywood. his band is pretty damn great, his girlfriend is a nude model, and his new art show titled “The Golden Age of Grotesque” went on display yesterday at the Los Angeles Contemporary Exhibitions, 6522 Hollywood Boulevard, admission is free.

they recommend a donation of three dollars, but i recommend they up it to $6.66. call it art!

marilyn manson is one of my favorite people in the world.

some people say that he’s just a poseur, that it’s all a big act. when i saw him he elevated from below the stage tied to a flaming upside down crucifix and he later ripped pages out of the bible and threw them to the crowd.

kidding or not, the boy’s going to hell and he’s not doing it quietly.

if i make it to heaven, i would like to be on the st. peter’s advisory committe, the board that helps influence the grace of God.

i would argue in favor of marilyn manson’s ascension to heaven. i would argue that of that crowd of 18,000 at the forum that night, he would be in the small minority who had even held a bible that month. and by challenging the symbols of Christianity, he is helping to validate it as something, indeed, powerful and interesting. worthy of attention.

marilyn manson sleeps with some of the hottest women in the wold and he’s singing about jesus? doesnt the bible teach against the distractions of the flesh?

isnt that what he’s symbolizing when he slashes at his stomach and chest, all iggy-like?

perhaps marilyn manson was simply the embodiement of the devil’s advocate.

or you know what, angels, maybe he was just a goth kid who had a little style. he was given some money to really go for it, and a band who could seriously rock.

even when he twisted his ankle that night at the forum due to his high heels, and the show was prematurely canceled, and a riot nearly broke out, marilyn manson has never disappointed me.

the 25 minutes he did onstage was theatric, heavy, agressive, and slick. he kicked monster magnet’s ass, which was tough because monster magnet totally kicked ass. and he beat hole’s ass, which also was tough because courtney turned it up a notch since it was LA and she wanted to show off for her friends.

but manson lives in LA too and rocked the house. and when the plug was pulled to quick the kids were pumped up for they had been waiting for something like that for a while. and to be honest it was one of the first times where i ever felt why they say, “keep the audience wanting more.” cuz it was pretty nice wanting more. the imagination went wild. i put on those records again and i saw more in them. it was great.

next time manson plays where you live, i hope he twists his ankle for you too.

Los Angeles Contemporary Exhibitions is located at 6522 Hollywood Boulevard, east of Highland and west of Cahuenga. The cross street is Wilcox. Parking is available for $4.50 in the lot behind the building, accessible from Wilcox. There is also ample metered street parking available. They are near the 101 freeway and the Metro Red Line�s Hollywood/Vine station. The galleries are wheelchair accessible. Admission to the gallery is free with a recommended donation of $3.00 ($2.00 students, members free). Gallery hours are Wednesdays through Saturdays 12:00-6:00 p.m. (323) 957-1777

tony loves “survivor”. i dont think he’s missed one episode. ashley was sitting on his lap being cool. the phone was ringing off the hook and i was rocking in the lazy boy as we all watched the first episode like a little family.

if you didnt see it, the people got to pick two teams. a lady who said she was 53 and a man who was 55 picked teams out of the other 14 or 16 “tribespeople”. i dont remember how many there were.

the lady picked what seemed to be nice people. the man picked what ended up being pretty, fratboy and sorority girl “athletic” people. so you had the beautiful people against the regular people.

i wont tell you who got kicked off because they’re gonna show a special “encore presentation” tomorrow night.

but i think it was a brilliant move for cbs to have them pick themselves because at first i thought i was gonna root for the hot babes, but it turned out that i ended up rooting for the regular, non-fratboy team.

ashley watched them try to scale a cliff in search for water and she said, “at this point they would have voted to kick me off.”

shes not the survivor-type, in fact at 1:30am they woke me up as i slept in the guest wing, and asked me if i wanted to make a mcdonalds run.

i like survivor. ive learned a lot about life through survivor. sometimes when i come home and look through my cupboards and think, “shit, i dont have anything to eat,” i think about survivor and think, “hell, those people could live off of what i have in here for a week,” and then i put something good together.

of the new survivors, ashley thought the used-car salesman was a cheeseball. she thought the tommy lee skateboarding bartender was an idiot, and thought the preacher was a dumbass.

i liked the big black guy the most.i hope he wins.

well i hope i have entertained you today. and tomorrow we’ll see what happens.

happy friday, america,

Lefty Tony

tony went to a real life black barbershop last night in the hood.

everyone was black except the half black guy who was trying to be super black who had a huge tattoo on his chest a real black guy in chains raising his hands to the sky (not pictured).

tony sat down, the guy picked out his ‘fro and said, “so what are we doing, brotha?”

tony said cut half of it off.

dont ever tell a barber at a barbershop to do anything other than “trim” a ‘fro or they’ll shave it all off.

the remains of tony’s ‘fro is about a quarter inch high, all the way around. he looks like sammy davis jr. during his non-afro days.

i think he looks good. ashley thinks he looks good. she came over last night. i got lost for a while.

funny thing happened at the babershop.

the barbers were playing some neojazz funk stuff. you could tap your feet to it, but i didnt know the lyrics. neither did tony.

then the cd stopped and one of the barbers put in a mix tape of old school jams. these are all young barbers in their 20s. me and tony fit right in.

they start talking about the songs as theyre singing along.

tony’s barber asked him, “whoo… you like DeBarge?”

tony said, “not particuliarilly.”

barber says, “who do you like then?”

he said, “rock.”

barber said, “you mean like Poison.”

tony just laughed.

i went to get a slice from across the street.

when i came back they were all singing “shook me all night long” acapella.

someone had their dog at the barber shop. the dog tried to sing with the guys. all he did was howl till someone slapped him in the back.

it didnt hurt. he was a big dog.

he looked at the guy. licked his chops. then layed down on the floor like a good dog.

the charge was $20 to get a ‘fro cut. tony gave the guy $30, then we hopped in the ride and flew home.

i cant get into particulars here, but trust me when i tell you that it was no accident that of all the players on the field, the umpire, the fans, there was a reason that my brother and his cousin took off their shirts, hopped the fence, and tore down the right field line to the first base coaches box at him, obviously risking arrest, or at the least, ejection from the fine stadium on west thirty fifth.

no one is so innocent.

perhaps he was involved in some hijinks behind the scenes that led to last night’s public thrashing.

maybe he was just a victim.

my partner lenny doesnt believe that any of us are victims. that we are totally responsible for the things in our lives that cross our paths. i think lennys been smoking too much of the wacky tobbacky. what about train wrecks, i ask him.

the creator put all the people whose times were up and loaded them on a train, he says.

what about the young ones, i ask.

sometimes young ones have to go, he says.

what about the babies, i ask. i hate lenny.

sometimes the babies are just undercover angels, he says. and i dont hate him so much, any more.

so i dont know why gamboa got his last night. but he did. i dont think he got it all that bad, cuz the whole royal team came out to help him, and the team doctor looked him over right afterwards. nomal people dont ever have anyone help them, then they gotta wait two hours in the emergency room waiting room to see some kid doctor who doesnt know shit anyhow, and then you gotta pay a $50 copay.

gamboa didnt have to pay any copay.

he got off easy.

Lefty Tony says gamboa got off easy. and i’d say it again.