Eminem sold close to 300,000 units. feel like a slacker now?

RIAA, still hate file-swapping? you shouldnt, fucking babies.

here’s two separate reasons which explain why im without a sweetheart.

and finally in today’s briefs, the FBI can now monitor web sites. so long privacy and free speech, hello G-men!

actually some of my most voracious readers are from the government.

hi.

and boy have they been “monitoring” this anna coverage.

the miss universe pageant was held last night, and i covered it here.

now let’s read a letter. by the way, thank you to all the nice people who have left or will leave nice notes in the comments section. your words mean a bunch to me, so muchas gracias!

Dear Tony,

What does it mean when something is described as “ticky-tack“? Is that some kind of athlete’s code for “tacky”?

Signed,

Puzzled

Dear Puzzled,

excellent question! for some reason i thought this was common terminology.

i would say ticky-tack is typically used when talking about a foul in basketball or a penalty in football when the athlete is being punished for a physical act that isnt really as violent as the foul might suggest.

in the playoffs, especially in a close game near the end of the game, it would be called “ticky-tack” if a player barely hit his opponent. if it is called early in the game the ref is sending a message to both teams that he doesnt want very physical play, but at the end of the game a wussy foul call would be called ticky-tack.

there is generally a given cushion of physicality that each team assumes is okay even though it might technically be a foul — but in the super-fast nature of playoff basketball, of course one man is going to touch another man (which is technially a foul) but no one expects to be called on that.

so when Shaq got a foul charged against him in the last minutes of the game for just swiping his big paw in the general vicinity of lil mike bibby, that would be ticky tack as compared to a man slapping another man’s elbow while the first man was shooting.

since players can only have 6 fouls before they are fouled out of the game, in the playoffs, each foul should be obvious. glancing grazes should not be whistled.

keep rocking!

the original miss universe from russia, anna kournikova, sported a yellow sleeveless adidas tennis outfit instead of the white top/blue shorts combo that i have been pleading with her to wear since she played so well in it early this spring.

why she chose to take this risk at the all-important French Open in Paris yesterday is beyond me.

stubbornness?

pride?

arrogance?

ignorance?

indeed it may have been rooted in cockiness, of all things, since Anna was pitted against wildcard seed Christina Wheeler of Australia who no one thought could make it out of the first round in the grand slam event.

underestimating her competition in the biggest tournament she has played in since her scandelous nude penthouse lawsuit craziness would seem beyond our lovely anna since she hasnt won a tournament, ever.

but the drought continues as Miss Kournikova lost handilly 6-4, 6-3 to the aussie and to the utter disappointment of her loyal and ever-so patient fans.

and even though im pissed that she didnt win or listen to my advice, i must admit that she looked cute as hell in that yellow.

especially since it matched her shoes!

when i was a kid i lost on “thorough”.

more symbolic than you think.

on one hand i look at these kids and im sorry for them cuz they look like theyre going through so much pain, but then on the other hand you look at these kids and they’re not jocks, theyre not politicians, theyre not rockers, this is their one moment of glory, and when was the last time you were on ESPN?

semi-new hot chick came over to my house last night.

shes been doing that a lot lately.

tonight we’re going to go to see Elvis Costello at the new Kodak Theatre at Hollywood & Highland – where they had the Academy Awards this year.

then we’re not gonna fool around any more.

two weeks, and just like that, over.

if i was in control of any of this, you’d all call me names like womanizer, etc., words that i doubt they’ll use during today’s Bee.

instead, since im pretty much the victim of all of this, the correct spelling would be l-o-s-e-r.

the only difference between me and these 12 year olds is i dont have on khaki’s, a polo shirt, or the brainpower to spell.

but tomorrow night, just like them, i will go to sleep alone.

serotinal

can you use serotinal in a sentence please?

“enjoy the happy smiles given by the hotties here at the end of the spring, dumbass, because youre about to hit the serotinal flipside.”

s-e-r-o-t-i-n-a-l.

ding.

in the world is not racism, sexism, or agism.

it’s not an ism.

it’s not AIDS, getting stung by a bee, the concept of never finding a soul mate, or never having children, or dying an early and unproductive life.

the thing i hate most of all is not the idea of the Cubs never winning a World Series during my lifetime, or my dear mother marrying a cop, world hunger, or the Catholic church.

i hate poverty, rudeness, road rage, ignorance, and The Beatles a lot, but none of those things are the wost things i could imagine.

i hate terrorism, and suffering and the idea of another holicaust, slavery, and the constant fear that my unsaved soul will spend eternity in the unforgiving depths of a firey and twisted hell.

the thing i hate most of all is that theres not one elected offical with the balls to take on Ticketmaster.

i am somewhat pleased, however, that Dave Marsh wrote about It today.

the Sacramento Bee.

things i really like: the Sacramento Bee online.

No one who has paid close attention to the Kings/Lakers series is really arguing about the lousy officiating, and if you really want to get an unbiased view of how jacked the Lakers were out of a win, go no further than today’s column from J. Freedom du Lac, the Bee Pop Culture Writer.

He pretty much lays it down so fairly that you’d think he grew up in So Cal or something.

Or that maybe he’s trying to get a promotion to So Cal.

More Things I like: Getting invited to a lunch-time rendevous with a marketing gal in a nearby park.

More Things I Really like: Getting invited to a lunch/park/dealio on an unseasonably hot afternoon next to the LaBrea tar pits.

More Things I like Super Alot: good email planning

me: where in the park do you wanna meet?

her: How about by the big pit of tar?

me: ok.

her: Ok, maybe by the picnic tables in front of the museum.

More Things I really Dont Like: Her being 20 minutes late even though we made plans 15 minutes before said rendevous and I only have a 30 minute lunch break.

More Things I Like: Samaki Walker on Vlade’s absence of foul calls:

“I’m not even going to get started on that,” he said. “It’s just ticky-tack. You mean to tell me Vlade Divac guards Shaq, and he only has two fouls after three quarters?”

More Things I like Super Alot: The fact that We have Kobe and Shaq and they don’t.

More Things I like A Whole Super Alot: Women who don’t hyphenate their names even when it’d be funny as hell.

is one of my favorite reads each day.

true our furry friend doesnt always write to us via her blog everyday, but you know what that famous man once said, “great blog, crap job; great site, shit life.”

and she may try to downplay her superstar life of writing for Salon and Marie Claire and all the other famous journals under her various nom de plumes, but we know the real deal, when shes not pretending to be totally fascinated with various forms of psychotic behaviors, shes getting her extra thin cigarettes lit in the swankiest nightclubs of hollywood.

but i do have a bit of a disagreement with her today, which is rare.

Rabbit is funny as hell, in person and in pixels, but sometimes she loses the forrest for the guffaws. Yes, Ari Fleischer could look sexy in a pink bra and a catholic girl skirt and im sorry to put that image in your mind… but the purpose of dressing, ladies, is not only to impress the women of your circles who you feel compelled to constantly impress… why? Lord only knows. But it’s also to gain the attentions, ultimately, of the men who are dying to set ablaze your Camel Lights.

Therefore catholic girl skirts and a peek-a-boo sassy pink bra and boots shouldnt not be so easilly discounted and forgotten.

It’s Spring, ladies, nearly summer.

If you’ve got it, flaunt it, cuz everyone knows we wont have it forever.

Later you can put the pancake on your head and see if the fella really likes you for your mind.

Much later.

signed,

the superhero named tony

hi. my name is tony.

you dont know me but i know you.

thats the problem.

sorta like offensive linemen, if you are paying attention to the nba referees something is wrong, terribly wrong.

right now you have a difficult job to do, i realize that. you have to try to make sure that the games being played between the defending two time world champion los angeles lakers and the delightfully exciting kings from sacramento are fairly played.

but there are a lot of tough jobs.

the cops on the streets of america have to dodge bullets, the doctors in the hospitals have to cure the sick, and the technical support representatives have to solve difficult consumer questions with very little information under less than hoped-for conditions.

all you have to do is call a fair game. however your favoritism was as obvious as a white one-piece during a bikini contest. stick your little chest out all you want, but still, everyone knows something aint kosher.

now i understand that when Shaquille O’Neal is in the game you might think that you have to call a foul differently than when Danny Ferry is in the game, but let me be the first to tell you that this is not the case.

If Danny Ferry slaps a guy’s wrist, or pulls a guy’s jersey or elbows him in the gut, you should blow your little whistle.

If Danny Ferry drives to the hole and gets slapped or punched or gang-raped, thats a good time to blow your little whistle too.

Same for Shaq.

I know it’s not fair that he’s so big and strong and good-looking. But here in America everyone has equal rights and if he gets fucking mauled while crashing the boards, toot your tooter or go back to selling insurance.

Last night I was minding my own business making out with a sweet young girl from around the way. The game was on. She was trying to distract me. It was a close game but I was giving her my attention. She was a guest in my house, after all.

But then you guys decided that you wanted my attention, and I’m sorry, but I didnt turn on the tv or invite her over so that I would end up writing about you in the morning.

Basketball is exciting enough as it is.

Sacramento is a fine team with a lot of great fans, despite what Layne says.

They don’t need your help.

I know your heart is in the right place, but when you become old and gray(er) do you really want to have your grandchildren make up drinking games where they pop in a tape of this series and have to do a shot every time you miss a call, or drink a beer every time you foul Shaq out for waving his hand infront of that cute little Bibby fella?

Lord knows I don’t.

As they said in that great baseball movie of years gone by, “let them play.”

Indeed, NBA refs, let them play.

I could barely romance this young woman without thinking how unfair you were to the World Champs and I want you to know that.

And now you forced me to invite her over tonight to make up for it while watching the 51st Annual Miss Universe Pageant.

And you know what’s really sad?

Those judges will probably select the correct winner.

nd since no one is innerested in smooching with me, i will harken back to the glory days of yesteryear when i was lucky enough to play spin the bottle with one angela romano, my bestfriends girlfriend.

yes, ironically enough the cars had just released that very same record when i was in sixth grade about to get my mind blown and even stranger, that first cars record was the first one that i ever bought with my own money.

and to show you how long ago that was, my mom gave me $20 and with that money i bought steve martin’s comedy is not pretty, meatloaf’s bat out of hell, and the cars self titled debut.

anyhow, angela was dating dave osbourne. we were at bethany radzinski’s house, all the girls had schemed all week about this party, completely leaving us boys in the dark in more ways than one.

there was a seance, there were fruit drinks, there was a bottle, and there was a dark bathroom.

twice i spun the bottle, twice it landed on angela.

i couldnt believe what happened in that bathroom.

when i came home my mom looked at my eyes and accused me of being on drugs.

i said im not on drugs mom, i just spent all my money on records.

logic always worked on my mom, one of the first female computer geniuses.

anyhow, i dont think i ever thanked angela properly.

whereever you are, thank you.