i had such a great time at the Chicago Buzznet Meet-up

that i dont even know how to explain it. maybe it was the wonderful variety of people, maybe it was the excellent location, maybe it was the endless amounts of rum and Goose Island Beer that kept getting sent my way, maybe it was the redheaded slut (pictured) that Dave the PA insisted that i shoot with him,

or maybe it was the fact that midwestern people are the greatest in the world.

no offense, canada.

who knew there would be traffic on the expressway heading into the city at 7pm on saturday night, but there was. all because the city has a toll booth charging eighty cents just past the rosemont horizon which is now called the allstate center. even people with the speedpass couldnt get through quickly because traffic was backed up well beyond the oasis. i was to be late for my own party and there was nothing that could be done because that stretch of highway had no off ramps, so i just cranked the ipod and prayed for a miracle.

then i called my mommy and asked her to call my brother and let him know that i was to be tardy and for him to tell everyone who was waiting.

but because im a dumbass i got lost getting off exit 44a and started driving and i didnt ask for directions until i was already a good 45 minutes late. chicago sure has changed, but wrigley field has been around 100 years and yet the dude at the liquor store gave me a blank look when i asked him which way to wrigley. was i that far away from it?

so i said, clark, addison, waveland, irving park, do you know where any of those are?

so he said, this is devon, keep going that way and you will hit clark.

i drove down devon and went down Little India basically which was very interesting and i would have loved to pull over and take pics but i was late. then i had to ask someone cuz Clark just wasnt anywhere to be seen, and they were all, yeah keep going.

found Clark but the street sign said 5600 Clark and underneath it it said 1600 Clark, i was all W T F!!! make up your mind. and then i saw Evanston 1 mile so i knew i was heading the wrong way so i flipped a bitch and headed south to the mecca of all things perfect, Wrigley Field, which was situated next to where i was to meet all the great Chicago Buzznetters and Bloggers.

got to the place a good hour and fifteen minutes late and no one approached me, not one person wanted my autograph, and there were no hot babes asking me to go home with them – this was not my beautiful home! and where was my brother?!?!

so i called my momma and she said my bro was sick but she had called the place and they said that four people were there waiting for the Buzznet dealie and just when she said that i saw my old kindegarten buddy bobby d at the bar with two of his pals and i sat down with them and the drinking began.

within a few minutes more people arrived, and then more, and we moved over to the fireplace, and more showed, and then more.

whew, the kids had all decided to be fashionably late, which was great but it scared the shit outta me.

so i met Dave the PA whose is a PA not a PA, the lively and gentlemanly Brian from thestateimin, his two Depaul pallies bassonist akhdarbazzoon and opera singer mistywordpower, mba student dailytravails and his hottie sweetpickles who arrived with Buzznet pins which was killer, and elginroots and erin the oakparkmaster, and bob and his two friends – a cozy group and you know what, perfect for the setup at the uncommon ground because we could all sit by the fire and talk about how much we loved Buzznet because just like the meetup it wasnt a circlejerk of myspace whores or the lost-in-the-supermarket feeling of flickr. people are sweet to each other on buzznet and there were always new people to discover.

i totally agree. buzznet is the perfect size right now, i know it wont always be this way as we’re growing like mad every day but currently its killer.

uncommon ground decided to make last call at midnight, which was fine with us because one great thing about being in a city is a short cab ride to another bar. my man bobby d knew a cool place up the road so we piled six of us into a cab and jessica and erin gave me sips from their flask of vodka and we were good. we spilled out across the street from the sweet p? the sweet t? the pee p? somewhere, and it was crowded in the front and sorta empty in the back. bobs buddy lit up a smoke and i was all you can still smoke in bars in chicago? thats awsome.

turned out you could only smoke in the front, which is why it was packed there, and we pissed off the only other table back there, but you know what go back to russia if you dont like it commies. i dont even smoke and i believe that in america you should be allowed to do whatever destructive shit you wanna do – its why its called a bar.

bob got a tray of booze and we pretty much drank it all. then we hopped in another cab and went to an after-hours country bar. i have no idea what it was called because at this point the endless shots and beers had begun to hit me. and that worried me because i had to drive back to the suburbs. and even though im an excellent driver and i hold my booze beautifully – while taunting the youth of america by pointing at my empties saying SEE SEE! ISLA VISTA IN THE HOUSE BITCHES, i really frown upon drunk drivers.

so at the country bar i bought old styles for the ladies and sipped on gingerale and danced off my buzz to the band.

the place was totally packed by the way, and i dont think anyone there was really into country music but it was 4am and it was open so why not dance to a cover band of 40somethings in ugly clothes singing johnny paycheck tunes. yes i danced yes i took blurry pictures yes i started a squaredancing circle yes i tipped like a coke dealer, yes i had a fucking awesome time in part to my buddy bob who found all the best places and also thanks in part to erin and jessica who kept it lively and fun.

so around 4:30 the girls had disappeared so i bid adeui to bob and his bro and took a quickie little taxi back to my mommas car. and swung by the country club one last time to see if the girls just might be outside waiting for a cab and sometimes your spidey senses are right on the money. not only were they there but so was bob. so i drove bob to a hotdog place where he had parked his car, and me and the girls grabbed dogs and we cruised by wrigley and took a pic. and then i drove them home.

on the way there i cranked Tsar and jessica was in shock as to how much she liked them and i was all baby i have lots of friends in bands but theres a reason im constantly hyping tsar – its because theyre that good. she rewarded me by eating half of my hotdog despite allegedly being a vegitarian.

when we arrived out front of their house they invited me in for some late night board games but i had to decline because my mom would probably wake up any minute and see the icy rain coming down and fear that her only son had sped off the expressway and met his untimely death.

but ladies, trust me, under any other circumstances i would have taken you both on and triumphed left handed. so maybe this summer when i return to wrigley.

i got home at 5:20am and sure enough my mom had woken up a few minutes beforehand and didnt see the vette in the driveway and was a tad worried and heard me in the hall and said oh im so glad youre back and i was all ma you really should trust the Lord if youre gonna call yourself a Christian, which is a little joke i have for her because her favorite hobby is collecting mangers. i said my prayers and passed out within seconds.

at 11:30am i woke up just in time for some orange juice, advil and the nfl today pregame show, and then watched the bears beat tampa bay. and not only did i not have to use my AK but i cant imagine a better 24 hours than what i had just encountered.

thank you Chicago for everything, i will return, im thinking maybe we all go to a Cubs game and have a sleepover at erins house.

more + pics + here and more to come when i upload mines

when i tell you that its buttcold

it means even your butt says wtf, fool?

you want to be sweet to your momma you want to be sweet to the illini you want to be sweet to the lady youre holding the door open for, but at some point you say fuckit youre all on youre own im going to where its warm and you shut the door and run for it.

yesterday it was blah blah blah below zero. numbers really dont matter because anything below zero is fucked up. today it was 40 degrees when the sun went down, which means when i make it to the buzznet meetup its gonna be below freezing.

you wonder how people can live this way but then you see the incentives – you can buy houses without having to rob banks, you can buy big houses without having to “know” someone, and you can have a little land around your house without living two hours away from the city.

and the people are the nicest in the world.

outside of that, you’d still have to sucker me to move back here, which i know hurts my mommas feelings but what can i say, i like wearing shorts, i like keeping my windows open as i sleep, i like chewing the air.

when i get back to a wifi situation as opposed to this dialup test of wills i will upload some of the many water towers that i have photo graphed.

im not exactly sure why they have water towers here in the midwest and they dont in the west but it must have something to do with everything freezing for 1/3 of the year. like a dipshit i left my ipod in my mom’s ferrari and this morning when we drove from my sisters house i turned on my ipod and instead of seeing the familiar black apple, i saw a sillhoutte of a middle finger.

but then luckilly it faded away as it defrosted so i could play my devil music for mi madre.

when we got home i popped in the Chapple Show season one on dvd uncensored and she asked me if he was popular in california, i said thats rick james! hes worth $50 million to comedy central and she looked closer and didnt see the value, insisting that i was worth at least $20 million if he was worth 50.

but what was shocking to me was my beloved Stratford Square.

when i was a lad it was the newest, coolest, hippest shopping mall in town. it was built so that the good people of Roselle, Bloomingdale, Itasca and Hanover Park wouldnt have to drive a whole 21 minutes to go to Woodfield Mall.

we saw all the latest movies and hung out there and met girls and ate at the Sabarro’s pizza. now id say 1/4 of the shops are empty and the JC Penny has lost its shimmer. my have the mighty fallen.

so if youre reading this and youre in the chicagoland area, we’re meeting at Uncommon Ground on Clark near Wrigley Field so come out and have a pint with us and if not, fine, i dont blame you, its cold as a witches tit and on Monday im going directly to the beach right after getting off the plane cuz this shits insane.

it is nice though seeing Ditka on local tv.

tim + paige + monique + after before and before after

today is my sister’s 23rd birthday.

trust me when i tell you that it’s not easy being my little sister.

throughout the years i did things like chase her around with knives, i threw her keys on the roof of the house, i vandalized her posters and magazines, i may have killed one of her dogs, hid a variety of things, listened in on a few conversations of her talking to her friends to find out if they had crushes on me, and continually lobbied to my mother that she was being far too generous with her. normal brother stuff.

but the worst thing i did was get born. and worse, i did it a year before she did.

i steamrolled through elementary school, junior high, and high school like a tornado. every teacher, student, and principal knew my name and either totally hated my ass or fell in love. and because we didn’t look very much alike, people would constantly say, “you’re tony’s sister?”

what little kid wants to be known as somebody’s sister? especially when she was an angel and i was far from that. look at that body language!

angie and i could not be more different. i was super good at sports and terrible at getting good grades, my sister was an honor roll student and a cheerleader. because of that there were a lot of clashes within the pierce household, and when my mom got a stereo the common war zone was the living room and the soundtrack was ac/dc’s back in black, which angie got for a gift and which i instantly purloined and cranked as loudly as possible every day for many years while she practiced her flute.

if there was a career in how to torture your sister i would be a zillionaire. i believe there were incidents of locking her into basements, closets, neighbors houses, cop cars. i remember certain moments where fellas would come over to court her and i told them they were at the wrong house. and of course there were the firefights.

and yet my sister stuck by me. probably because i never narced on her during some of the many stealth parties that she threw when my mom was out of town. and i was always there to protect her in the shadows of school, like any brother. not that she needed my protection, there was very little that anyone could have done to torture her that she didn’t experience in the safety of her own home.

years later my sister met the man of her dreams. and the funny thing was, i liked him right away. dave is mild mannered, smart, patient and still calls my mom mrs. pierce. thats respect. they bought a huge house. filled it with all the animals that angie loves, comfy couches, pretty much everything that she had in the barbie dreamhouse that i turned x-rated and then lit on fire but now it was full-sized and wonderful.

so what has my sister done lately? no offense to my friends with kids, but she and dave brought to the world the cutest little girl in the world. kyla joanne, named after my mom.

then they had the most mellow little boy ever, tyler, after the singer of aerosmith.

then they moved out of the dreamhouse and bought a bigger one.

when they visited me in hollywood, kyla was sick but never cried. it was amazing. i dont know what they put in her bottle but all that little girl ever did was look at you and smile and point at you and hold your finger and laugh. if she closed her eyes and started to get irritated, my sister and my brother in law knew exactly what to do. it was crazy. full on esp. they should write a book.

and it appears that that know-how has only been finetuned with tyler, or babybrother as everyone calls him.

so heres to my sister, bears fan, bulls fan, cubs fan, def lepard fan. her first concert, with me, was the jackson five, but then i think her second one was rick springfield at great america. if i was a good brother and ever called her, id know.

happy 23rd angie. i love you so very much. i love that you call mom “mother”, i love that you still live in the silly suburb that we grew up in. i love that you are your own person and nothing like me and a much better soul. i love that you let me steal your “back in black” back in the day at Christmas and never bothered me to ask to return it.

and i love that you are my sister.

my sister was in the paper yesterday + she has the coolest house in barrington + shes a realtor

three years ago

today on the busblog i was still trying to break up with a young blonde girl

no doubt is in town so you’d think ashley would be happy but shes not happy unless im with her.

and sometimes i look in the mirror and when i do i dont see anyone who you’d be depressed not to be around.

ashley loves attention and normally i dont mind letting our favorite twenty year old princess steal my eyes away from you, beloved computer screen, but this weekend i had to work on some projects and root on the bears and the raiders, who both won, and clean my apartment, and fight crime, and be stinky, and not shave, and read the good book, and read some bad books, and water the plants, and, you know, be a dude.

im 109 years old and i have never had to tell a girl i needed my space, but this weekend i did. it felt weird. not as weird as telling this one supermodel that i didnt care if we didnt have sex because i cherished our friendship so much, but weird nevertheless.

men are not programmed to say no to good lovin from hot young girls who like to fulfill fantasies, but my plants had the right answer.

they said, tony, if you watered us every day, we would die. we love the water, but it would drown us.

the flowers said, and some of us only bloom when we think we’re going to die, the day to day look of many flowering plants do not include the beautiful colors that we know them for being.

the flowers dont know english too well, please excuse them.

still, i got the point.

but ashley didnt.

she called crying and sobbing and left the saddest messages on my phone. please dont leave any more sad messages on my phone, dear angels of the moonlight.

im a stubbly olde man who walks with a cane who has carpal tunnel and types with a pencil scotched taped to the center of my reading glasses.

my hips are about to go out, my breath is foul, my words are foul, my ways are foul, i lie in my blog, and worst of all, i dont respect the president of the united states of america. i think he’s gross.

surely there must be a handsome young man in orange county who could take care of the daisy princess in ways that she deserves.

but strangely there isnt.

and shes not the only one.

i work with some of the hottest women in showbusiness. educated, intelligent, totally together, gorgeous young women who definately know how to please a man, i am sure, and yet they go out into the wild and come back empty-handed and unsatisfied.

and i think about all of the supercool single men who i would fix them up with, and i think, i dont know any supercool single men to fix them up with.

i mean i do, but these women are looking for different types of men.

perfect ones.

im a good job, two inches, and a vette away from being perfect, but ashley doesnt care. she also doesnt care that im old enough to be her dirty neighbor across the street. she loves me for who i am and tells me all the nice things i want to hear but the only thing i can tell her in return is youre far too good for me. go to the skatepark with a big pizza and a mini skirt.

she only says i dont want to go to any skate park, i want you!

and i want her too, america. of course i do.

but i also want to save the world first. and i want to do the right thing. and i want to figure out how im supposed to have thanksgiving with a vegitarian poolside in orange county and not consider myself a sellout.

these are the biggest dillemas i have this week.

dont ever let me bitch about shit.

two years ago yesterday tsar played their whole album in order + gwen pics by jenny b + stag blog

eighties movies have pretty much taught me everything

i needed to know about life.

what i learned from the Karate Kid is you never know what you’re learning.

wax on, wax off may have been a brilliant scheme from Mr. Miyagi to get Daniel-san to clean up around his home and wax his car,

but in reality he was teaching the young ralph macchio, who was nothing more than a second-rate teen heartthob at the time, how to be a first-rate teen heartthrob.

often times i have found myself either editing the closed captions of mindless television, or putting together worthless excel spreadsheets as busywork, to writing reports for a supervisor who’d never read them,

and i said to myself, waxon waxoff tonysan, you are learning something that you dont even know youre learning.

youre building muscles and skills from this repitition that will help you in the future, so just do it,

theres a sensai at work whose training you oh-so subtlely.

and sometimes i think i was right.

pat morida, mr miyagi, and also arnold in happy days, passed away today, he was 73.

metafilter, as always was right on the story and printed this funny exchange from the classic film –

Daniel: Hey, what kind of belt do you have?

Miyagi: Canvas. JC Penny. Three ninety-eight. You like? [laughs]

Daniel: No, I meant…

Miyagi: Daniel-san… karate here. [he taps his head]
Miyagi: Karate here. [he taps his heart]
Miyagi: Karate never here [points to his belt]
Miyagi: Understand?

suburbia 75 + hainsworth + oceanaria + undercover in japan

happy day after thanksgiving

to all my american friends and non-american friends who i hope had a nice day yesterday anyway.

i sat on my sisters overstuffed overly comfortable couch and watched their incredible high def plasma screen and let all that food digest and we viewed a bootleg copy of the last star wars on dvd and we played with the babies and i drank many Old Styles and i wanted to write on this here blog but sometimes the spirits whisper to take a break driver eight.

i did read a lot of what the blogosphere had to write and most of it was nice, even some criticism that i received on another blog that complained that the busblog was turning into a marketing tool for my book and for buzznet and i can see where that person could think that, but its not the case.

a personal blog, like this, is a reflection of ones personal life. for the first time i am able to actually write about my work. you have no idea how liberating that is for me.

even though my specific job at E! was a nightmare, i loved pretty much everyone who i worked for, but pretty much from day one i was nervous of getting fired, so not only did i dare not write about my job but i wrote about everything but. in retrospect thats a bummer because i did some very cool things there and met stars and enjoyed some relationships that i will never forget, but i could not give my bosses an excuse to let me go because my assignment with the xbi was essential that i work at a tv network.

similiarily as this blog got more popular and people kept trying to figure out the secret to its success, i didnt want anyone to think that because of my relationship with the entertainment industry that that was the reason that it was allegedly written well or popular, because it wasnt. i was never a writer at E! i never worked at their website. and no one from there helped knock this thing out. in fact every chance my bosses could, theyd discourage me from writing this during my government mandaded 15 minute breaks.

perhaps it was in spite of those bad jobs and unsupportive bosses that the earlier years of the busblog were more creative, but i didnt want anyone to get the wrong idea that it was because i was an entertainment network employee that the busblog was what it was.

i was also criticised this week for not writing about Sex as much as i used to – for turning my back on Sex Saturday, a busblog invention.

first of all, i dont remember writing that many sex saturdays. and talk about marketing, the only reason i even started that was because my hits drop off massively on saturdays and i wanted to give people a reason to log on.

but secondly after dating a lovely young lady this summer she put a terrible hex on me after we broke up and not only has my carnal desires been hindered almost completely but my ability to write about the fairer sex has also been cripled.

my mojo, as they say, has been stolen.

but i think i know how to get it back, so stay tuned.

finally, yes i am writing a little bit about my novella Stiff a tad on this blog. im sorry if it has turned off some of you, but i am serious when i tell you how proud i am with it. so many people write on their blogs or send me emails or comment as to how great of a writer i am. thats sweet, but i certainly dont think im a great writer, however i think that Stiff is the best thing ive ever written, or will write.

it is the best stories compiled to make one real novella. and in the end of it are all the best poems that ive ever written, and my best newpaper opinoin column from the famed daily nexus.

i have absolutely no trust in the well of creativity or in my ability to spin a yarn and so when i saw that i could compile Stiff the way that i did, with the poems and the cool covers, i went for it and released it early so there wouldnt be the Christmas rush that happened when i released How To Blog two years ago today.

so what would you do when you made the best thing youve ever made, and will probably ever make? you’d talk about it a little bit and tell those people who have yet to get it that if they like the busblog and the adventure tales and the sexy stuff and the wildness, then they really should send an email and make an offer cuz the shit is bananas b-a-n-a-n-a-s.

and in summary, Buzznet is a dream job come true, and im a lucky man and tomorrow i get to meet Chicago Buzznetters and Bloggers and for a man with as little self-esteem as i have, shaking hands with my readers and seeing their smiling faces and taking pictures with them does a lot of good for my soul.

so yes virginia im gonna write about that shit too. its not marketing, its not advertising, its not hype for the purpose to sell more widgets, its a documentation of the things that are happening in my life. dave navarro wrote about rockstar inxs and camp freddy and making out with carmen electra, tony pierce writes about buzznet and stiff and meeting canadian teenagers who want to go back to the hotel.

not everything is gonna be sexy on this blog. im not prince. im a dopey undercover superhero who flies a dumb helicopter and steals from crooks.

and right now im in my hometown where i spent kindegarten through highschool.

and tomorrow im going to see wrigley field and some people who you probably read.

i cant be all things for all people, so i will just be the dumbest ass i can be, because in the end i write this blog for me, for those very dark days. because in those moments its nice to go back in the archives and say, out out cruel demons look at what the Lord gave me that day.

and today he woke me up with the sounds of my three year old neice playing peek a boo with my year old nephew.

and with the dirtiest email from a college girl in winnepeg.

oh canada, please move to hollywood.

zulieka + the pants + cy-bervixen + etienne is backienne

happy thanksgiving america

and canada and mexico and trinidad and australia and europe and africa the motherland and the middle east and asia and all our ships at sea.

today as we celebrate the invasion and domination of north america it’s easy to be cynical and politically correct and genx and disrespectful… so lets go for it.

fie on our teachers who told us the kiddie tales of pilgrims and turkey and columbus sailing the oceans blue and having us put construction paper feathers in our hair and dressing up in orange and brown and working for the clampdown.

fie on our forefathers for being ruthless and treacherous and ignorant and fortunate.

as kurt vonnegut so perfectly wrote in breakfast of champions:

1492 the teachers told the children that this was when their continent was discovered by human beings. actually, millions of human beings were already living full and imaginative lives on the continent in 1492. that was simply the year in which sea pirates began to cheat and rob and kill them.

the chief weapon of the sea pirates however, was their capacity to astonish. nobody else could believe, until it was much too late, how heartless and greedy they were.

and thats why revisionist conservatives like the instapundit dont like kurt vonnegut and would never grow up to be a lit professor.

which we should all be thankful for.

so on this celebration of misery and gluttony, anti-vegitarianism, and highway accidents, a blossom has risen from the turd of shame: thanksgiving.

instead of pretending that we are grateful for this unbelieveable land that the Lord allegedly gave to us, we do have the option to review our real blessings and share some of those with our fellow man and woman.

i am grateful that i live in a city that is perpetually warm and dry. im grateful for the great jobs ive had and the ability to blog at them during my government mandated 15 minute breaks. im greatful that at my advanced age young women from around the world desire me sexually and men from around the globe wish to buy me drinks and shake my hand.

im grateful that i am here with my mother and sister and loved ones who find it necessary to wake up early for a thanksgiving dinner. and here it is 11am and my mother is pacing nervously as somehow we’re “late” so i must finish this up, but im grateful for her as shes given me everything except for my receding hairline which was donated to me by her father.

gravitas.

im grateful to live in a country who may have been jesusland a year ago but woke up from their drunken stupor and who if they had their druthers would run the GOP out on a rail for lying to us, sending us to war for no good reason, and then lying about their lies.

we may be a young country but we dont all love young country and we werent all born last night. or something.

im grateful that i live in a time where i can broadcast such messages across the transom and it reach all of your homes and im thankful that you’ll probably be back tomorrow. im the luckiest man i know, i know i dont deserve it, but i will take it and before i defile your sisters i promise to wash my hands prior and thank the Good Lord afterwards.

im grateful for rock band tsar, for all of my friends, for ac/dc, and for peer to peer technology which has given me the world on a platter. im grateful for blank media costing pennies per disc and im thankful for directv tivo and the kama sutra.

none of this could have happened without the Lord Jesus Christ who probably winces every time He hears my name but hopefully chuckles when he hears my prayers and perhaps will see through the blackness of my heart and allow me entrance into Paradise where i will host a danceclub best known for its urinating cherubs.

im thankful for my health and wealth and position in life. i know i could have been born anywhere at any time and as much as we kid being Americans, we are the most fortunate people on this planet, other than the scandinavians, and canadians, and trinidaddians, and hawiaans, so we should learn to help those lesser than ourselves.

and hopefully the next election we will learn how to help ourselves.

God bless everyone who reads this blog and links to it and talks about it and buys crap from it. i love you, i think about you always, and i hope that noone at your table chokes on a turkey bone, unless they really have it coming.

happy thanksgiving and may this year we bring some astonishingly excellent things to those less fortunate than ourselves.

matt welch + alecia + JaG + raymi + matt good

Stiff Sale til Sunday

my mom came home for lunch and she brought a friend of the family who is an extremely successful businessman.

apparently when people heard that i was coming home, something i never do, everyone wanted to hang out with me, which is sweet, but secretly all i wanted to do here was hide out, do some laundry, take a few pictures, meet the Chicago buzznetters and bloggers and get the f out.

but best laid plans… and now ive met neighbors on both sides, old neighbors in our old neighborhood, people at my moms work, and a lady who makes my moms bagel every morning – and this is only day TWO.

so dude takes us to lunch at an ok restaurant and tells me that he reads the busblog “sporadically” because of several reasons that he will give me tips on later — uh, no thanks — and tells me that he hasnt yet purchased Stiff but will probably this week and says that he bets there are lots of potential customers that are in the same shoes that he’s in. so to speak, meaning they want it, ive got it, but theres something in the way.

midway through my soup i politely told him that i didnt care if anyone didnt buy my book, that i wrote it so i could give one to my teachers who i dedicated it to, and to my mom who i secretly dedicated it to.

he said, dont you want to sell a lot of copies?

i said, of course not.

he said, jo — my mothers name is jolene — he said jo, whats california done to little tony?

she said hes always been like this, and added, he buys USED clothes!

so dude says, the biggest shopping day of the year is about to happen, more sales are going to take place on Friday and Saturday than in all of the summer days combined. people will be looking for things that they want but they will also want GREAT VALUES. BARGAINS! then he asked me if i ever bought things that weren’t on sale.

lap dances, i told him. and winked at my mom.

but he was right, no, i barely bought anything, but never things that werent on sale unless it was a once in a lifetime situation. like a concert ticket, or bleacher seats, or a power adapter for my laptop whilest on vacation.

so he said, tony you have to put your book on Sale but you have to do it in such a way that people will feel good about the price.

i was all, if people are worried about price then they havent seen the value of the item so therefore price is irrelevant.

he said, true, to a point, but you see value of certain things like plasma tvs or corvettes or – and he looked at me – good clothes, but you dont buy those things. so price does factor in.

have i mentioned i didnt like this person?

but then he presented his really good idea

so what you do tony is you let your readers email you with their Best Offer, like a Priceline.com for your book. if its a ridiculous price like $6 you say no thanks, and perhaps they’ll email you back with a better offer. if you can reach some sort of agreement you send them a bill and ship it out to them.

if you want, he said, you can even negotiate the shipping price, since i see you only ship things Priority Mail, bubba this is a book why not send it Media Mail for $1?

and to prove that even sorta horrible people can have good ideas, thats exactly what im going to do.

for the next 4 days only you can email me at stiff@tonypierce.com and make me an offer on my book. keep in mind that right now CafePress is offering unsigned copies for $19.08 plus shipping and im offering signed copies for $25 plus shipping. so if you want an autographed copy its a tad more.

also during this special timeperiod you cannot specify which cover you want – if you want a certain cover you have to pay the regular price. if you want the dealio price you have to take the cover i send you.

Also, realize i have some copies of How To Blog for sale too, so if you want both let me know and make me an offer, or if you only want HTB email me with an offer.

i will do my best to hook up every reasonable offer, my only stipulation is to be fair, be polite, and dont tell anyone how much you paid.

this is a four day sale only and i wont be able to ship them out till Tuesday at the earliest which is why this sale exists – and because dude had a decent idea.

the paypal invoice i will send you can be paid by credit card, check, or paypal.

now you cant say you dont have anything to be thankful for 🙂

it snowed here this morning, i believe to welcome me back.

or to punish the fools who dared fly out today, the busiest travel day of the year.

why do people travel on the busiest travel day of the year?

next year im driving. actually there might not even be a next year thanksgiving in chicago. i love it and all and i must say that despite the last post, and the fact that my bag was delayed an hour, it was a mostly-pleasant experience.

especially the hot dog.

additionaly LAX yesterday at noon was, dare i say, nearly deserted.

is everyone high?

anyways, next year everything is going to be different. i wont have a book for sale during the holidays, i wont fly anywhere, i wont be in the cold.

i woke and saw the whole Seinfeld cast pimping out their seasons 5&6 dvds. maybe whoring out is the right word. who are these people who get a million dollars a season and then find it necessary to release dvds later of shows that are on reruns three times a day on free tv?

if you need the money so bad how about returning to television where you belong?

kramer looked horrible.

jerry’s hair is thinning like crazy.

i know, takes one to know one, but im not selling 10 year old bits for top dollar.

this Christmas im thinking about driving up through frisco and oregon and seattle and then turning back down and coasting downhill all the way back to LA.

ive never been to seattle and id like to stay in aberdeen and take pictures of the bridge where kurt slept. some reports say that he never really had to sleep in the cold under the bridge, that his relatives and friends let them stay with him, but still, id like to see that bridge.

ive been listening to a lot of nirvanah lately because of this book. yesterday i listened to Dumb and In The Pines from mtv unplugged like five times. i even played it for my mom as she drove me back from the airport.

of course it all depends on if mc marc brown will let me drive through the woods for a few weeks before and after Christmas.

which i guess depends on how successful this Chicago trip goes. which depends on how many people attend the Buzznet meetup at Uncommon Ground on Saturday.

i know its officially a Buzznet meetup, but Bloggers you’re welcome too. in fact these meetups have been populated in good part by Bloggers who weren’t yet Buzznetters and never even considered Buzznet before they came to the meetups.

so yes, Bloggers, even if youre not considering Buzznet, please come to the meetup on Saturday. we’re all friends. and this week we’re all Chicagoians. and i read many of you and i’d love to meet many of you. mostly the Cub fans, but if the rest of you would like to come, i suppose thats fine too.

my mom is gonna have lunch here with me so i can drive her back to work so i can have the car and drive around and take pictures of the town that i grew up in. and hopefully i will be able to upload those pics tonight because im sure youre all omg dying to see them.

this house is so clean. being home reminds you how much of a stank pig you are.

maeko + iron mouth + zona boy + maizzy got stiff!