fuck franz ferdinand

these are the new jams that i rocked more than once in 2004 in no particular order:

1. loretta lynne – van lear rose

2. green day – american idiot

3. morrissey – you are the quarry

4. the pixies – Live 4/13/04

5. nirvana – with the lights out

6. the donnas – gold medal

7. eminem – encore

8. kayne west – college dropout

9. sonic youth – sonic nurse

10. britney spears – in the zone

11. prince – musicology

12. tom waits – real gone

13. the walkmen – bows and arrows

14. brian wilson – smile

15. wilco – a ghost is born

16. bad religion – the empire strikes first

17. tv on the radio – despearate youth

18. tsar – music from band, girls, money advance cd

19. greg vaine – the many sides of

p.s. im on tv today 4pm pacific, 7pm eastern G4TV the screen savers, pimping my blook

leah + amanita + fimoculous

two months ago

today

how to leave a comment

1. kiss my ass.

2. if you cant kiss my ass, ask a question.

3. if you cant do either of those, have the guts courtesy of filling in the email address or home page portion of the comment box. everyone agrees that anonymous negative commentors are pussy ass bitches whose opinons are not even worth the milisecond that it will take to delete them.

if you have the nerve to come into someone elses house and talk shit, have the backbone to identify yourself. i wouldnt accept a check without your signature, so fuck your pissy comment without a real email address.

and that goes for you democrats too.

4. but people say oh but i will get spam oh i will get spam.

a. only fools put their primary email address on the internet.

b. when they ask you your email address type it out like this busblog@g[mail].com

c. create an email account for spam, look i just made one on Yahoo

busblog@yahoo.com busblog@yahoo.com busblog@yahoo.com busblog@yahoo.com busblog@yahoo.com busblog@yahoo.com busblog@yahoo.com busblog@yahoo.com

im runnin with scissors im runnin with scissors

busblog@yahoo.com busblog@yahoo.com busblog@yahoo.com busblog@yahoo.com busblog@yahoo.com busblog@yahoo.com busblog@yahoo.com busblog@yahoo.com

d. notice that the world didnt end.

e. a sincere commentor should want the reader to know that theyre serious about their rebuttal. the simplist way one could discount a negative comment is to say, that person was certainly kidding as they didnt even leave their name.

f. only cowards hide and snipe from the shadows, the only thing more pathetic and hopeless is someone who does it on a fucking blog on the internet.

5. politely alert me of a correction that should be made. if a hyperlink is available, please use it.

6. if you have nothing useful to say, be funny. be the guy who pops in with a little joke and then pops out real quick.

but you better be funny.

7. if youre busy at work, inarticulate, or flying a helicopter above the dreary clouds of hollywoodland, keep it short and/or use these:

a. right on

b. fuck yeah

c. omg for sure!

d. you know, bush does suck!

e. please accept this generous tip

f. bullshit

id much rather accept some ignorant ass with a real email address simply calling out bullshit than boring me with these fat generic lies of “you’ve crossed the line now pierce im never coming back here again! humph!”

just call bullshit and go back to watching your stories grampa. your votes been counted.

8. a polite, lean, direct rebutal resonates much louder than a clumsy wandering stale belch. say exactly what you disagree with, offer an alternative, provide examples.

or, call bullshit while leaving your fucking earthshattering blog’s address.

9. do this everywhere you go

bicycle mark + science blog has a new look + tech law advisor + ecstasy helps dying people

it’s pouring sheets of rain here in LA today.

so all the newscasters are on full blown extra special Storm Watch mode.

omg it’s raining here in the valley, some dude in a eddie bauer rain coat is saying in a microphone

omg it’s raining here in hollywood, some chick in a paddington bear yellow rain coat is saying in her microphone

omg a tree just fell on top of three Land Rovers here in brentwood, some dude is yelling into his microphone

and then theres the traffic reports: omg theres traffic!

omg someone got stuck under an overpass!

omg somebody else got stuck under the same overpass — people if you dont need to be outside please dont go outside, the reporter in her all-weather gear preaches to the working world,

even though, infact shes outside telling us that its raining.

i want to shake my tv and say, not everyone flies chopper one for the xbi and got the day off because you cant really fly on such an f’ed up day! some people work for a livingm, lady!

im thinking about tidying up for my maid who will hopefully be here on thursday.

im thinking about writing a book called “how to keep your bitches in line”

im thinking about going to the doctor

im thinking about going to the cinema

im thinking about watching regis.

as much as i complain about work, i do miss it on days like today where there is crime out there, just far less of it, but superheroes shouldnt care about quanity, if you can crack one crook over the head youve made a difference.

im thinking about having lunch with miss montreal but shes at her mamas house in miami.

im thinking about reading some of the many books that santa brought down my chiminey.

im thinking about you.

web nymph + welch blogging like mad from europe + chokey chicken

hi little kid

victimized by the indonesian earthquake and subsequent tsunami.

hi tony pierce!

how old are you?

im two.

tell us what happened to you.

big fucking earthquake, big fucking tidal wave, big fucking tree hit my big fucking head.

i know youre probably hopped up on goofballs but how about taking it easy on us with the language.

95. bloopy

sorry tony thats how they fucking talk here.

the talk like that in thailand?

they talk like that here in fucking phucket thailand. it’s awesome. sorta wish i could enjoy it though.

why cant you enjoy it?

fucking tidal wave took my fucking parents away.

well whats their names, i’ll find em for you.

im two. i dont know their fucking names.

ok, well whats your name.

fuck if i know.

shit.

yep.

do you miss em?

the bash against the tree cleared my two year old fucking memory. i dont even fucking know what they look like. you could be my mommy for all i fucking know.

ive been accused of stranger things.

fuck it.

so hey. what are your plans now? like what are you planning on doing tomorrow?

well, if im not sitting here crying because im fucking orphaned and homeless i was thinking about seeing the rerun of your appearance on the Screen Savers on G4TV.

7pm ET + 4pm PT

they got that out there?

G4TV is broadcast in over 50 million homes around the fucking world.

no shit

fuck yeah.

well thats cool. so, good luck with whatever youre doing over there victimized little kid.

thanks tony,later

my single mom life + unsomnambulist + abrasivist + kyle bunch + nickerblog

you’d think with all the hits the busblog gets

jessica simpson to have just one woman writing in upset about the choice of photos isnt so bad. but for some reason it always suprises me.

and they always bring up the womanizing/misoginist card.

they cant just say, yeah he hasnt outgrown the swimsuit model poster on the wall stage.

a while back someone pointed out that a lot of my pictures feature terribly skinny girls. never noticed. that someone said that i should pay attention cuz there are a lot of young women out there who see the pictures on this blog and either feel bad about themselves when they try to compare themselves to the raymis of the world or they become turned off by me for what i am subconsiously propogating.

heres the deal about the pictures: theyre there to lure horny guys to the site. period. theyre there to keep horny guys coming back. (second) period.

the women will read the busblog without pictures cuz women are usually smarter. im not worried about my women readers. plus most of them appreciate a well turned calf or a sharp dress.

the men are easilly distracted, visual creatures; therefore you need to make your page visually appealing to them.

especially if your content is so-so.

no matter how many sweet comments that i get or panties virtually thrown my way i have curiously low self esteem regarding the writing that i do on this, my electronic notebook.

so the pictures must either be sexy, funny, or weird.

or inspiring.

and besides, arent we beyond these 20th century whines that Mass Media Images of women are capable of damaging the sensitive self-images of todays modern women?

scroll down a little to me holding my nirvana box set. do i look like any of the leading men in stage and/or screen? im bald, im old, i have a rash of acne on my cheeks, i ride the bus to work, and im a blogger. im like nothing that you see on tv or magazines or movies or white houses. and im happy with myself. why?

because Us magazine does not define me and if any of you are waiting for them to validate you, youre in for a huge letdown cuz look at who they give it up to: jessica simpson, ben afflack, j.lo, cameron diaz, and britney spears.

look who they destroy at every chance they can: jessica simpson, ben afflack, j.lo, cameron diaz, and britney spears.

fuck Us weakly who arranges talented women in police line-ups only to compare them on their looks and pick apart their every flaw. who question stars who arent married as being cheated on, who question stars who dont have children as being barren, who celebrate pregnant stars until the second that they deliver and then harp on them if they dont lose the baby weight overnight.

then they take helicopter pictures of their many mansions. then they try to humanize them by saying “they have their tires rotated just like Us!” and then show them sitting in the tire store drinking a cappuchino reading People.

if anyone could do damage to people’s psyches through images and text – which is quite a feat and impossible unless you have a fully willing victim-to-be – its certainly not the busblog.

this shits art.

la fire department blog + im nominated for a BOB + flagrant, you can crash with me if you need to

walking to work this morning

i kept thinking the same thing that i always think when im walking to work

why are you doing this

what is wrong with you

dont you know you have a college edjumacation

dont you know that you could be rich and famous in so many fields

dont you know that even the baby Jesus is disappointed in you

dont you know that if youre going to be poor and worthless you may as well be a preacher in the south seas

dont you know that people marched and faught and got shot at so that you could have the opportunites that you have now, and youre doing nothing with it

dont you know that writing blooks during your 15 minute breaks doesnt make up for the fact that youre a loser making half what you made a few years ago

dont you know that women want to make love to rich men

dont you know that for america to win we all need to be driving automobiles

dont you know that if youre going to suffer for your art you have to at least make some fucking art

and then i walked past a homeless man laying on a cardboard box and i had a ten dollar bill in my hand for a dozen donuts that i was about to get my coworkers and i nearly turned around to give it to him when i saw what appeared to be two huge logs of feces.

disgusted i marched on and thought

my poops dont look that big and wide and dark brown and healthy

what on earth is that man eating?

is he on to some new garbagecan diet that would certainly sweep the world if it only knew.

and then i got to work and someone had written me an email asking if i thought that my pictures on here might give the people the idea that i was, uh, a womanizer.

the answer is no.

else the louvre and sports illustrated are also womanizers.

and manizers.

clearly im a poopist.

karen (parrot is pictured) + john a + ranting human + <3 katrĂ­n <3

why would anyone even present this picture

of reggie white, today, the day of his death?

all those great years with philly and green bay, and theyve gotta dig up the one sad crumbley year with carolina?

thats why you’ll never ever ever see me wearing chicago white sox hat, cuz on the day that i die some lazyass mothers gonna plaster that all over the internets and say “mediocre blogger dead at 196”.

for a while the number one picture that came up in google images if you put “tony pierce” into google and clicked images was this one taken around the holidays while i was in college. for some reason i was really depressed that day and this hippy had just gotten me stoned and i was rallying and then my buddy greg had me nearly fake a smile and click.

google infamy.

now this is the number one picture, taken about 20 minutes after ev announced that blogger had just been sold to google. i wasnt smiling cuz of that, i was smiling cuz i hadnt made a fool of myself in front of the blogosphere.

my back was secretly drenched with sweat however. shhhhhh.

youd think a man as wealthy as reggie was could have figured out a way to stop bad pictures from surfacing upon his death, but life isnt fair

and control is an illusion

and money is the devils tail that humans keep chasing.

when i die i hope they just substitute my picture for one of wrigley field.

or one of reggie white playing pool on his bible scripture pool table.

and when kobe dies i hope they bring shaq back

cuz the lakers arent shit without him.

lost in a lunchbox + old poem + land of ghosts

who doesnt love the readers?

sixty nine comments, all very nice and one that sorta hit me sourly and it figures that thats the one that stays with me.

one day we’ll get over this idea that if a man loves women then he should be accused as a man who hates women. thats what a misoginist is, a man who hates women.

maybe this is what they say about the decline of the american educational system. people who criticize the government are accused for hating america, snipers who are trying to take out a gasoline attendent and instead hits the cans of oil are accused of hating cans

and men who love women so much that they create women-only webzines, and preach about love and trust and honest communication are accused of hate.

there are many things i hate but the weaker sex is not one of them.

i hate arrogant ignorance and self proclaimed Christians who havent read the bible and wars over weapons of mass destruction and lies and lies and lies

i hate smart people who act dumb i hate directv saturday morning baseball blackouts, i hate how some people look perfect in every picture they take

i hate onions in fried rice which was asked not to reside there.

i hate bloggers who should be blogging and whiners who should not

i hate people who dont wash their hands after they use the john

i hate buisness suits and stockings stds and coughing i hate that the prettyboys get everything and do nothing and vote republican.

i hate the dh i hate drug tests i hate lustlessness i hate so many things

ticketmaster and costas and morning shows and dumber things

i hate that america has everything

including rule over the world

and we can do something good

and we dont

just like microsoft

just like mtv

just like the pope

just like insta p.

imagine having the power to do anything

and squandering it

with mediocrity

and bullshit

and pussy assness

n fear.

i ignore the things that dont please me

so if i talk about chicks, thats not hate

and if they tap tap at the window pane

i will write it down, cuz its great.

raymi + mist + gorilla mask

the oldies station

has been playing christmas songs for weeks and the best one so far has got to be james browns funky christmas or whatever its called.

it sounds like any old james brown song except hes not really singing hes just kinda rhyming.

then they’ll play don henly and then david bowie and then johnny mathis but the motown ones continue to stand out. the jackson five, smokey, and the temptations white christmas is unreal.

even with all the selection, this Christmas i loaded up on heavy doses of elvis’s double christmas album. in the past it had been sinatra but this christmas i couldnt get enough of the king.

last night i attended a christmas eve party at my old roommate chris’s venice home.

we clinked glasses after acknowledging that hes come a long way after sleeping in the bottom bunk below me, an area that he dubbed Chris Land which he wrote on the mexican blanket that he used as a drape to provide him (and his girlfriend) privacy.

chris has recently remodeled his two bedroom one bath home into a four bedroom three bath modern wonder complete with a koi pond and a slam dunk area for the kids.

this morning i opened my presents and my mom had sent me flannel pajamas, sweaters, and candy, and my sister had sent me nirvanas box set. who says im hard to shop for?

my truest called me and we discussed the greatest Christmas scamola of all time.

she said that up in Oregon you can pay a guy dressed like Santa to come to your house and drop off gifts and i was thinking, why dont you buy a shit ton of gifts from SantaDeliveryDude.com and for an extra $25 he will deliver them on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, but youve gotta set it up two weeks before Christmas.

Then you hire all the Santas that you’re gonna need and pay them $10 a house. shit, those dudes will go to way more than 10 houses. and what they can say is, “ho ho ho, billy, we seemed to have forgotten a gift. i think rudolph kicked this out of the sleigh.

and santa hands over the gift to little billy who falls over in disbelief

and santa pats him on the head

walks out of the house and into the awaiting limo.

Merry Christmas from halftime of the laker game.

im off to santa monica to munch on an organic turkey and then pick karisa up at the long beach airport.

feel free to keep signing in below. its awesome.