fuck you fellas for sending that old gray ghost at me every morning. if he doesnt write this in the reports, heres what really happens at least once a week.

i lose him at the ralphs, i lose him at the rite aid, i lose him at wilshire and vermont, or i lose him at wilshire western.

ralphs is the easiest. it has two back doors, two mens rooms in the back area, all those aisles, all those people. rite aid has a front door and a back door and no one in there in the mornings so he can’t hide so he watches me go in the front and waits for me to go out the back. this is a child’s game and i never lose so who’s the child?

i saw you moved him in down the block. it was i who put up the “Convicted Child Molester” document on his front door last friday and laughed and laughed as it stayed up there all day saturday and all day sunday, only to be ripped down sunday evening when he got back from his weekend at his boyfriends. not that theres anything wrong with that, but theres something pisspoor about lack of professionalism and willingness to fail.

i got out of bed 10 minutes early this morning and didnt see him anywhere. saw your boy the tall marine instead. why do you all carry so much in your packs? gray hair has a backpack that is bursting, marine carries a dufflebag. how are you going to catch up to me at the wilshire fairfax 99 cent store that has a front and back door with a duffle bag through those narrow aisles? gray guy has a limp, now marine has a limp cuz i pay the bums behind Johnnies to bash their knees with a crowbar and when i worked for you i didnt get paid shit and i give those guys $20 each to crowbar your best men and $20 more if i see a limp and guess what, i give bonuses on top of that.

you trained me, you fucked with me, you lost me, you lose me.

some bright boy tried to put a bug in my water heater (!) and when i couldnt get a bunch of really hot water, guess what the mexican maintenence man found? a waterproof listening device with your signature all over it. didnt i see that at the Detective Store at Fisherman’s Wharf, but it doesnt sell, cuz it never worked. merle, it still doesnt work

i dont mind the attention, i mind the lack of respect. it’s embarrasing. it’s insulting.

you know what i’d like to see, you know what would be class? here’s what i would do if i were you: find out what the perp likes. do something that slightly alters his behavoir – and no, not a hot chick. let’s say he takes a certain bus at a certain time because he likes the driver or a passenger or an individual bus that’s clean or always empty. and then when you want to fuck with him, have his favorite busdriver turn to him one day as he’s flashing his pass, and say, “good morning, sonny.”

and that, i promise you, will ruin that fucker’s day.

now go jerk off and yell and stew, just like you always do.

09, 14, 39, 42, 44 and 11

i interviewed Oliver Willis of SportsFilter last night. i had read oliver on metafilter for some time, and then I met him at the LA Blogger party at Brian’s house. im not really one to go to mixers of any sort, but it was such a friendly invite and lots of my friends were already going, so i went and i met some very cool folks including oliver, and i hope you enjoy our conversation that took place last night.

this weekend i got to spend a lot of time with my friends that i barely see enough of and i had a chance to see “Black Hawk Down” which I really loved. i am such a pacifist, but some really good war movies can have me buzzing for days and i will say that i am still thinking about how good that movie is. at one point my date turned to me with tears in her eyes saying, “i dont want to watch this any more,” and that’s when you know you have something powerful.

best part about it: they never once play “The Space Between,” the Dave Matthews Band hit that they use in the commercials. I’ve always admired you, Ridley, but what was up with “G.I. Jane?”

I only missed one birthday this weekend, two really. My good pals Hiram and Mark both celebrated their birthdays on Sunday, but I was too beat and I had no ride to make it over to the wessside. If Karisa hadn’t been in NYC on business, I would have gone with her, but I hope they understand. Such fine gentlemen. Hiram and I hired the first 100 eReps at PeopleSupport and Mark ended up being my boss after the company laid me off and then was forced to hire me back. All of that was so wild, and now that I am removed from it a tad, perhaps a lot of the dot-coms were being run by a bunch of people that should have stayed in the fields that they had come from.

But Hiram and I were both very mellow, very idealistic, very interested in hiring the right mix of generally excellent non-assholes who got it about respect and intelligence and fun. Plus it was great to hire some amazingly hot chicks every now and then and then giggle about it later. Only once were we unsure about a hire, and she turned out to be pretty good too, so we were lucky.

Mark had the unfortunate duty of trying to manage a guy who had hired him. He did a good job, kept me happy, kept me on a team that I ended up loving almost right away. Here’s what I have to say about Mark: if you can get a guy to come in to work at 6am after he had been coming in to work Whenever He Damn Well Pleased, and do it at half his salary and stripped of any real power, and keep that fool working for you for nearly six months, you’ve acheived a miraculous feat.

So I hope your birthdays were good, my friends, and I hope the booze went down smoothly.

Emmanuelle warns me to beware Vivid, but I don’t pay for my porn. Although I trust her reporting, I find it so hard to believe that Vivid gets 150,000 guys to cough up $39.95 a month to subscribe to their website.

Not that I have any problems with the good people of Vivid, my favorite porno operation, who repeatedly has offered me a variety of employment opportunites, and whose work I admire greatly. But come on, theres so much free smut on my screen that I am often finding myself turning off pop-ups filled with colorful pictures of scantilly clad women because I just can’t be bothered with that right now. Don’t lie, you’ve done it too.

I’ve had a Hotmail account since ’97, so guess how many FREE TEEN SEX spammails I get a day? All you have to do is click one of those lies and your screen is flooded with many pages of XXX love that most normal men would be satisfied with, so why would I pay the equivalent of a month of DSL service just to see the newest stills of Janine? Didn’t I get the DSL so I could use Grokster and get it from my “friends?”

And speaking of Teen Sex, nothing is free.

i love my former teen princess, but when your girl has made the leap from $6/hr to $7.45 an hour, guess who’s paying when she says she wants a shake and some fries at the BK Lounge? And the Diet Cokes, and the Sweet Tarts, and the Pop Tarts, and the Tater Tots. Good thing I’ve got an ATM up my colon and money shooting outta my ass or I’d reconsider dating anyone without a trust fund. But I digress.

Smut.

Dear angels from the cyberworld, buxom beauties from beyond. Thank you for dropping your drawers and lifting your lace and letting us see what the Good Lord and the talented surgeons bestowed unto you, but obviously none of you has heard of supply and demand because there is so much supply that I don’t think I’ve even missed my Pictureview.com subscription for almost a year now. Pictureview, for you puritans, catalogs all of the USENET pics alt.sex.pictures.pornstars… etc. and catagorizes them and provides thumbnails and a decent search engine and no ads and charges a paltry $8/month.

People who pay for it on sites like Vivid’s are probably people who pay for it in other ways too, and people, you dont need to pay for it. Not here. Not any more. Not now.

But who am I even writing to? No one who reads my page pays for nudes, or even searches for it.

For the exception of this happening stud looking for “free pictures of bart simpson getting fucked,” or this lost soul from Baghdad searching for “lap violence girls fuck” pics.

As twisted as they are, they still know better than to pay for the milk when the teets are squirting for free.

And with that I wish you a swell weekend.

Email Greg and wish him a happy birthday.

I’ve lived 108 years. I’ve climbed every mountain, flipped off every asshole, and kissed all the pretty girls I ever yearned for. My sole regret was not joining my Daily Nexus friends to Prauge (back when it was in Czechoslovakia) and helping them start and run their glorious newspaper Prognosis. While I worked for billion dollar electronics companies, they grew their hair long, starved, wiped their asses with teeney squares of toilet paper, froze, and basically had the times of their lives.

All the big time media outlets documented their stories and ten years ago Details wrote this very nice long peice about them.

For all the kids who read this page, learn from my mistakes, the billion dollar companies will do fine without you, never miss an opportunity to change the world with your pals.

Greg’s birthday no Black History Month spotlight this morning on the main page, but here’s a picture of the first Black woman astronaut, Dr. Mae Jemison, a fellow Libra, and, as promised, a hot babe.

Mae’s mom was as school teacher and her dad was a maintenence worker in Chicago . She got undergrad degrees from Stanford in African-American studies and Chemical Engineering, she became a doctor at Cornell and even spent some time in the Peace Corps after college.

The first time that she applied for acceptance at the NASA astronaut training program she was rejected, but the next time she tried she was chosen. Out of over 2,000 applicants, only 15 were selected. When Mae successfully finished her training program she became the first Black woman astronaut. At that time only four other Blacks had ever become astronauts.

In 1992 she flew on the US/Japanese joint mission on SPACELAB making her the first Black woman in space.

Today she heads up the Jemison Group focusing on consulting on the design and implementation of solar thermal electricity generation systems for developing countries and remote areas and the use of satellite-based telecommunications to facilitate health care delivery in West Africa.

Let’s hope she’s also a Cub fan.

NASA paid a little visit to the Blog. Told you those guys are smart.

Sorta scary.

Why does this scare me? I don’t know.

Hope all my facts were right.

If anyone from NASA wants to let me interview them using AOL Instant Messenger about all these pioneering Black astronauts for Black History Month, email me, maybe we could do it tomorrow, tonight i’m watching “Friends” with Chris.

But yeah, email me.

this time in Paris. This time to a frenchie named Amelie Mauresmo yesterday in straight sets.

On Satuday our girl lost to Monica Seles in Tokyo.

I’m starting to think that it has something to do with the cute little baby blue number that she seems in love with.

Anna seems to think it has something to do with emailing and calling me, so she has suddenly stopped all communique avec moi.

How do you say, “whatever,” in French?

This week’s big-ups go to Chris, who has loaned me her fine automobile for the last few days so that I could use it while Ashley was here. Not many ex-girlfriends would do that for a guy, but Chris is special, which is why I propose to her every chance I get.

I must say that I have enjoyed having a car these last few days. Strangely it is the AM radio that I have missed so much all this time.

That, and the Long Beach Freeway.

This week Howard Stern has been broadcasting live from Las Vegas on the FM dial right as I am pulling out of work and to have him in the morning and the evening is nearly as good as having Ashley waiting at home for me.

Also, mad props to my boys Ken and Matt, who have been mentioning my Black History Month stuff on their hugely popular sites. Welcome, fans of Welch/Layne.

Can a dumbass like me have it much better?

The answer my friends is, oui, monseiur.

If only that Honda could talk.

she emailed me to see if she did the right thing.

i emailed back saying, no she didnt do the right thing.

she picked up her cell phone, didnt say hi, just said, why not?

i said cuz most secret weddings dont work out, especially those by pop superstars who are only doing it because they want to get from out of their Church director father’s grasp. especially those who want to feel ok about having sex. lots of sex.

she said, why you got to be like that?

i said, just keeping it real, baby.

she said, you dont even know my husband.

i said, if you had married that Boyz II Men guy that you were dating for a while, then ok, i would have said ok. but to marry your producer? i give it six months.

she said, youre so mean.

i said, oh, defensive? i give it five months.

she said, ha! we were married last june.

i said, tick tock, cinderella.

she said, stop that! you dont even know me.

i said, your tv show was cancelled, you passed out from “exhaustion” a few years ago, you’ve won a Grammy, you’ve been in movies, you’re about to come out with a new record and you’re 22 years old…

she said, im gonna be 23 on monday.

i said, fine, you’re 23. even though you’ve sold 8 million records, you have much more left to live and having your producer play house with you isnt really gonna do much for you.

she said, so what should i do?

i said, look at that guy in the face and say to yourself, im going to look at that fool for the rest of my life, im going to pick up his dirty shorts, im going to get him dr. pepper in the middle of the night. im going to hear him chuckle after he rips a fart.

and then sing.

people love it when singers sound like they’re dying inside.

i hope someone gets her a 40.

here’s a picture i took of her last summer.

and here’s a really scary one that i tried to make better, but it isnt that nice at all, really.

anyway, happy birthday, jjl, thanks for the pics and the autographs,

and thanks for being in one of my favorite movies of all times, “Fast Times At Ridgemont High.”