thought i was gonna be able to pay off a credit card from my giant return
after watching snl though i went back to look at my return to bask in its glory
then noticed a terrible mistake
i had handed my tax preparer my w-2 from 2019, not 2020
maybe i’ll get a free burrito now instead.
which is fine.
i like burritos.
im in a bad mood because i just went through all of my expenses for last year bc im seeing my tax lady tomorrow, who i love, but still, last year was Rough and i had no idea how much money i spent on just fixing my car alone.
but todays good friday so lets talk about the Lord
i was in a Zoom call today and someone said good friday is actually sad
and i wanted to get into it but zoom’s lag is so bad that i fucking hate it
anyways good friday is good.
this was the part in the movie where Jesus
had to die.
first so he could pay for our sins
but also so he could rise from the dead.
both of those things are the coolest ever so whats the biggie being “dead” for a few days?
no one ever talks about the shitty time he spent right before his death wandering in the desert for 40 day and 40 nights being tempted n shit
and those temptations are so not-so-hard temptations.
hey Jesus, jump off this cliff, the angels will save you
hey Jesus, sell out to me and all of this will be yours
hey Jesus, if you’re so hungry, make bread outta this rock
those are super hard for the son of God?
maybe they are.
not being on social media for most of the day is hard for me.
not arguing with people on twitter is hard for me
so i guess everythings relative
i also dont think Good Friday is sad except for one moment when Jesus really became man
it was the part where he was nailed to the cross and He thought death was about to come
and it didnt
he just laid up there
actually suffering
actually paying for all of our sins
all at the same time
and it probably hurt like hell
in all the ways imaginable
in super villain ways
unbelievable pain that Only the son of God could withstand without dying
and then He probably hurt so band He thought it’ll be ok because this will just kill me and i can party back home in Heaven annnnny minute
and it didnt come
and Jesus yelled out
WHY HAVE THOU FORSAKEN ME?
like you would if your uber just doesnt fucking come
even if the little dot is like a block away and its been there since for ever it feels
and thats when Jesus felt human
and it fucking sucked.
then he died.
good.
friday.
but we make due.
a wild congressperson is being accused of being involved in teenage prostitutes
ironic because the loudest supporters of his party and cause have been on a years-long obsession with pediphilias and here one of their poster boys just might have gotten his hand caught in the cookie jar
i have a lot of things to ask God if He has time for me IF i make it to Heaven. one of them is how was i supposed to feel about this?
this guy was a man who didnt care that guns were killing kids, didnt care about the environment being in a crisis, didn’t care about the healthcare system, and proudly was the only person who voted against a human trafficking law.
my heart wants to celebrate his downfall but i dont think Jesus would approve.
cubs lost their home opener today. it was cold. bats were cold too.
not crazy about our new announcer Boog. he wants the NL to have the DH and thats a non starter for me. kick him out.
i cleaned my kitchen and bathroom, took two naps, then did the dishes.
been doing some freelance work for Sass but any time i finish it im exhausted bc i put my heart in it.
also the covid vaccine has worn me out.
i hope i get my energy back tomorrow.
when i called my mom she said YOU GOT SHOT?
i was all, YES BUT THOSE DIRTY COPPERS WILL NEVER GET ME.
it was not a long wait. i wrote about it for my medium blog.
i met a bunch of people because i was in the best mood and we were all stuck together.
and when it was over, on my way to my car, i nearly cried out of sudden relief
all of this had built up in me.
probably in you too.
all of this angst and fear OF DEATH and this fucked up invisible hatchet man who seemed to arrive in people’s lungs with no rhyme nor reason
we see all these jackholes vacationing and partying and running around with no mask
and for all we can tell they dont get sick.
then you hear about this one or that one who “did everything right” and either they get it and die or get it and feel so lucky not to die.
i got a burrito at Tacos Arizas got home and soon became very sleepy and passed out in my robe.
was it relief? was it the drug? was it the angels saying go have super weird dreams as lana del rey goes through an hour of material?
yes
the company bought 666 pairs of Nikes, added some words and colors to it
put a drop of human blood in the sole
and called it the Lil Nas X Satan Shoe.
Nike is suing, which I can’t understand, because you can bedazzle a pair of jeans and sell them on ebay
you can customize a Vette and sell it for more
why can’t you do that to a dumb pair of shoes?
this woman on Twitter broke the lawsuit down beautifully:
i thought i had kicked this last week but here it is.
i was off to a good start yesterday but it was 80 degrees so i took a walk and kept walking because LA is fantastic.
ate two tacos: shrimp, fish.
drank an orange crush because im 9.
kept walking then was involved in a high level business call that included the words, “offer letter”
i said dont rush on that. hes such a nice person i dont know if the ideas im giving him are as good as he’s reactions are or if he’s just nice.
but we talked for two hours, which is an hour less than last time and he lives near zulieka so if i get the job maybe i can share a grilled cheese with her.
then it was time for dinner.
the other night i poured a can of minestrone in a pot and added beyond beef sausage, avocados and peas. by some miracle there was leftovers. dinner.
then moxie called with a lot of questions including the dreaded word: podcast.
that thing could either make me a million or ruin my life entirely.
a six year podcast. who wants that? i dont even have the attention span to watch an entire music video without going for my phone. how am i going to be committed to a 6 year project?
the only way i can even fathom it is by convincing myself that after a year it will have become so popular that people will be throwing themselves at me to tell me what to do next and heres a whole lotta money to do it.
i really need a microphone.
and like all the other jobs i shoulda already got,
it is idealistic and needed, creative and inspiring
and if everything goes right i’ll be able to do it from whereever i want, which includes the tropical island of maui
or tokyo
or jamaica
or for a month or so, wrigleyville, illinois
maya rudolph was the host of snl on saturday
and they did this nice thing as a tribute to her mom, minnie riperton.
they posed her in these images based on her mom’s albums.
minnie’s mom, like jeanine’s died at 31 of breast cancer.
i talk to my mom all the time and i dont know what i would do without her.
just today she sent me a photo of a box of baseball cards from a department store
and luckily i was near the phone when it dinged
do you want these? she asked.
and indeed i did!
my mom told me that because the world is upside down right now she forgot that easter is next sunday and therefore her annual easter basket will not arrive on time.
but i must say it’s ok.
ironically, minus amber, my house is filled with food, in part because i have little appetite.
everythings crazy. everything.
something crazy happened just today.
i was on facebook, because im addicted. and someone said
if you are 50 or over they just opened the floodgates and if you get on it you can get an appointment to get your vaccination shot in the next few days.
and sure enough i got one for tuesday.
which means on wednesday imma
do exactly what i do now
stay up late
wake up at noon
think up crazy ideas that might be crazy enough to work
read everything that twitter can feed me
try not to pick fights with strangers
and then smoke weed around 2am in hopes of getting to sleep by 4.
what have i been eating? glad you asked.
theres been wild sales on campbell soup lately. like $1.50 a can.
i’ll put one of those cans in a pot
then i’ll add a bunch of peas or carrots or broccoli because george bush didn’t like em.
then i’ll toss in some pasta or rice.
basically beef it all up real good.
then when its almost done i’ll top it with some shredded cheese which melts real good
then i’ll grab an avocado and put that on top.
i do the dishes about every 3-4 days.
cooking cleaning and helping peoples dreams come true.
apparently thats what youre supposed to do. talk to someone about your problems.
but i was raised at a time and place where you just fix your problems
and even if you have a great support system around you and legal weed
you shouldn’t really ask for help even if you need it.
also, a lot of time i dont know what help i need other than stop being lazy.
i have blogged here, on medium, and for this company that pays me to do it occasionally
but i know how much im capable of and i know how little i do.
ppl are like, dude you do a lot.
but thats in comparison to others.
never compare yrself to others.
so if i had a therapist i would ask her why my first crush was a tomboy who ended up being a lesbian?
is this why a lot of tween girls love boy bands and kpop dudes?
and i swear if i get a therapist whose all, well what do you think? im gonna fire her because i want a conversation. i want a real one. no holds barred. no ones feelings get hurt. no one needs to worry, just talk.
pretty sure jodie foster was the first picture of a girl i ever put on my wall.
she is still someone id be super nervous to meet if i ever got the chance.
she is a scorpio.
and took some long walks.
and did a lot of work.
and found some money. lets talk about that.
last month i hit rock bottom because i wasnt getting any unemployment, all of my little jobs had dried up, all the places i was TOTALLY FUCKING QUALIFIED FOR LIKE OMG told me to fuck off and die, and i hadn’t even gotten my stimulus check #2 which was supposed to come in January.
the walls had closed in, i sent an SOS to the world and the world said here you go
and for that i will be forever grateful.
for a year for some reason the apartment above me has been vacant. it needs a lot of renovations and maybe the owner of this joint didnt have the cash, but youd have thought PPP loans or what have you, or the fact that all of us pay on time, and that they have lots of buildings would mean they’d have had the cash to fix it up and start renting it again But Nope.
and it’s fine. who needs someone clomping around upstairs on hardwood being loud when im down here crying in my mexicokes?
earlier this week i was awakened with loud terrible noises. the workers had returned and were pulling up everything, bashing in things. the cats scurried under the couch and my beauty sleep was interrupted for a good half hour until i said dude i lived in Isla Vista for four years, ya gonna have to do better than that.
when i woke up again i went out to get the paper and noticed that they had gathered a years worth of the junk mail that had accumulated on her side of the mail slot… and placed it in my ficus plant so they could have room to demolish shit.
my little eye spied my name. or something like it.
it said Anthony III
and it had the wrong address on it.
then I saw another letter like that too.
junk mail over the years has gotten better and better at tricking you into opening it. sometimes it will look like a check. sometimes it will feel like a credit card
but when i opened this up IT WAS A DEBIT CARD
in fact it was the Stimmy from January that I couldn’t hunt down via the IRS website because for some reason Trump thought my name was Anthony III
like George the Third or some shit.
And for months $600 was literally feet away from me. just laying there. saying tony save me. tony my love. my sweet bald fat man. im right here.
and how crazy that these workers didnt just throw it all away? they know she hasnt lived there for a year. but they did the right thing: they tossed it into my fauna.
they released the cashen.
and today when i went to the taco truck and splurged on a $7 burrito with extra cheese and sour cream, i handed her the plastic and she said
cash only senior.
and i laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed.
in 1985 i was too young to get into the Long Beach club Bogarts where Lone Justice was to play on a particular Friday night.
i was working at a record store in West LA because my life has been blessed in many ways.
one of those blessings was one Willie Aron who advised me to just come really early and help the band in with their equipment and they could call me a roadie.
the only catch is i would have to hang out in the club all night and wait for them to come on.
time flew. as it does with a 19 year old at a rock club in the mid 1980s when rock had not yet died and still had a good 20 years left in the tank.
the band was soulful and powerful and the singer was mesmerizing and the entire night was worth all of it.
today every single mention of the band’s drummer Don Heffington was beautiful and positive.
heres some of what the singer of the band, maria wrote
He was not only a legendary drummer (Tom Waits, Bob Dylan, Lowell George, Van Dyke Parks, Victoria Williams, Lucinda Williams, Emmylou Harris) but a fascinating guy with a unique mind and sense of humor and a beautiful heart full of pure love. His solo projects were next level high lonesome perfection. He was a beloved Dad and Grandpa and the only original member of Lone Justice I never had any drama with. Which is meaningful. I love you so, so much Heff. Remember when we saw the Velvet Underground in Berlin? Best night ever.
i used to think, i better do something kickass before i die so everyone can talk about that when theyre about to bury me
but now i strive to be remembered the way Don Heffington is being known for tonight: being nice.