directed by quentin tarantino

cinematography by robert richardson

starring uma thurman, daryl hannah, michael madsen, and david carradine as bill.

quentin tarantino has made his third perfect movie and he not only made it look easy, but made it look fun.

the writing is flawless the acting is solid but the look is fresh and the comedy is there and the action is there and the only thing thats not there is theres not enough stars in the heavens to award this film.

it was as if quentin filmed kill bill, realized it was a damn good three-hour movie but decided instead to hold back the best parts for the “sequel” and call the leftovers kill bill vol 1.

the rumors of you not needing to see the first to enjoy the second are true.

kill bill vol 2 stands on its own and shines on its own, it sneers on its own, its amazes on its own, its such a gargantuan shock to the heart that its almost like vol 1 was a warm up for what quentin knew he could do.

vol 2 runs laps around vol 1 in a way that vol 1 should have just been dvd extras, missing scenes, and deleted moments of this instant classic.

this is a dress rehearsal of a wedding between genius and artistry. action suspense humor, depth, subtlety, and beauty. the way movies should be made but simply cant be made because theres only one quentin and his fastball moves.

this is the work of a maturing filmmaker caught completely in stride, no longer the video store clerk trying to prove that he can direct, no longer the wigger in the kangol trying to show off his record collection.

this is the quentin tarantino that everyone hoped for after the one two punch of reservoir dogs and pulp fiction that never was realised in the pair of films that followed.

this movie was so good that i bypassed the miramax + ascis afterparty so i could run home and tell you to go right away before people start giving away the juicy bits because there are some parts that people are going to start talking about and it’s far better to see them for yourself unspoiled.

kill bill 2 gets the busblogs highest rating. as someone who was lucky enough to see pulp fiction the day it came out, i felt just as satisfied leaving this film, and i definately wasnt the only one.

john stakes + evhead + the detox

hi blog.

are you mad at me?

no, why would you say that?

well, um, well, you used ta update me 3-4 times a day, and lately it’s been down to 2 times a day.

oh bloggy bloggy bloggy blog. i still love you. im just busy as all hell.

i know you are.

no seriously. do you have any idea what sort of mess LA is in and i’ve got to fix it?

yeah.

are you crying?

sniff… no.

you ARE crying!

shut up. so.

dude youre the best blog in the world. everythings gonna be ok. things will slow up and i can write on here all the time again.

i know.

seriously. ive got some great plans for you.

you do?

well, not really. but im sure i will think of something good real soon.

what about my archives, why do you let them go to shit?

cuz on the weekends i really just want to chill out and not blog and not write and not do shit but lay around and watch baseball.

see.

blog, the website hasnt been updated since bunny visited. if anyone should bitch its the site.

true.

my links page is fucked. my everything is fucked, blog. if theres one thing that is even sorta in good shape its you.

i know, but i could be sooooo much better.

trust me, i know. and it kills me. its just that i have lick and the lick blog and work and the ladies and do you have any idea how many books i have to read to be able to write this well?

you dont read any books tony.

i know. but i should. then i would be able to write well.

whatever. just try to spend a little more time on me and i’ll be happier and maybe people will comment more or donate to the car fund or something. or maybe you’ll get laid more or something.

deal.

thanks tony.

im sorry blog.

its cool tony.

i love you buddy.

dont be gay, bro.

k

i liked the oliver stone documentary with castro. it was honest. it was interesting and it was far from soft on the dictator.

when my microsoft windows xp said that it was time for an windows update.

the xbi has enemies.

so i clicked the little globe deal and went on with my business and it said for me to restart and whattya know, as soon as it came back i had no d drive.

where all my peer to peer sharing folders reside.

and a little side project folder i like to call lick

and a folder that said tonypierce dot com

which stored thousands and thousands of photographs and stories and poems and webpages and fables and miracles and unfinished photo essays and thousands of songs perfectly catagorized and all

for

your

ass.

and the first thing i thought of was how will i do lick.

and the next thing i thought of was, how incredible that it didnt hit my c drive cuz then i would be truly fucked

and then i thought thats what i get for talking shit to sol over at the buzzmachine, remember what happend to david when his saul hated on him.

so i got up and telephoned my buddy solomon, bass player for rock group tsar, who will be playing a midnight show on friday night i understand in downtown la because that is the shit right there

and i left a message along the lines of

hello jeff, would you please call me back at your earliest convenience.

i have a question about my computer.

thank you.

good day.

which is code for shit shit shit!

restarted the bad boy again and clicked the d drive and it said drive is not formatted, format now?

to which i hunted for the oh god no button.

to which i thought there needs to be a peice of software that will let you go back to the settings twenty four hours ago.

and the desktop shortcut of that software should be two red sparkely shoes with little white socks poking out the top of the shoes.

and then i saw that i had tivoed the chappelle show

and i turned it on

and i waited to hear the terrible news.

and then i saw that i had put lick and tonypierce dot com on my desktop

for easier access

the desktop, which resides on the c drive.

c which was short for you fucking lucky ass non backing up lazy fucking you dont even deserve this type of good fortune.

but now im terrified to click on those folders

cuz what if its just a shortcut.

intricate plot + adrants + capt scurvy

and because im constantly trying to impress her, i will be watching the new Castro documentary tonight on HBO.

its very interesting dating a cuban girl who has not only been to cuba but still has family there. apparently a lot of the cubans really truly do love castro and enjoy the lifestyle there and arent interested in the american dream.

and even though i love america, in many ways i can see their point.

although i may come across as a content young man living the life here in hollywood, when i see things like late model corvettes or beachside homes, i admit, i become covetous.

which i know i shouldnt.

i suppose i defend america and the dream because at least i have the option here to bust my tail and go get the things that i really dont need, whereas in other countries you dont really have those options.

im curious as to what mr stone will ask of mr castro. for some reason i respect oliver stone and like the way that he challenges the status quo.

jfk is one of my favorite films.

im very much looking forward to what mr stone will ask mr castro about our fallen president.

i would also like to see if he asks castro if the american embargo has crippled his country.

and of course i am eager to see if oliver stone will ask fidel if he is disappointed in all of his countrymen who defect to america to play baseball.

im guessing he isnt disappointed at all.

chokey chicken + bastard family + raymi rulez

and it looked a lot like this.

bungling, fumbling, desperation and finally resignation.

you end up feeling sorry for the guy.

and at times you even feel pity.

for at times, it really is pitiful.

this evening we saw a little boy who wanted to go home.

who doesnt like wearing a suit, doesnt like the press, doesnt like the mess he’s created, and doesn’t want to play this stupid charade any more.

he was always better at playing cowboys.

he always felt more comfortable in jeans clutching a cold frosty one.

not everyone was cut out to do the things that they become famous for.

i watched this press conference and i saw the youth of the president. to me he still seems like a very youthful man.

he seems capable of learning, but its impossible to tell if he has any serious convictions himself or if the entire night he’ll be telling his buddy cooter that he told him he could get away with saying turkey farm twice and not crack up.

and then there were the sad moments. the times when you literally saw a president try to think

and fail at it.

i can think of 10 things i did wrong in the last ten hours, george w bush couldnt think of one mistake he’d made since 9/11/01

and he hoped the answer was on the chandelier above the press corp and he looked

and it was exactly like the final round of a heavyweight fight

no one has enough energy to even swing

whats the use

everyone waiting for the bell

or a towel to be thrown in

or the lights to go out

or anything

tonight i saw living nothing

and it made me feel badly for the gentleman.

bunny mcintosh + trevor + moxie

i want to open a burrito shop. i want to have twins for girlfriends. i want a house in malibu and one in the hills. i want this day to end. i want to be able to type without people interrupting me. i want to be able to go home and do some of the design-y stuff that i used to be able to do. i want to have the energy i had when i was 20 and i would dance around my apartment listening to new music.

i want to be able to call my tivo from chopper one. i want solomon to make my home wireless. i want to be understood everytime i open my heart or my mouth or my blogger browser screen. i want every girl i meet who i fall in lust with to fall in lust with me sevenfold.

i want to be able to take a check and go to a credit union and be able to open a savings account in less than 30 minutes. less than 20 minutes. less than 15 minutes.

i want to be tall enough that i could get away with only hitting 50% from the line. i want 15 boards a game. i want a hook shot that you tick tock cant stop.

i want a dog and a dog walker. i want a maid that speaks even poquito englais. i want a dance partner who will look me in my face (and not down my shirt) i want to type all night till it hurts. i want to be able to have barely legal asian girls come over and be prepared enough to have at least a half keg on tap cold chillin like jakob dylan. i want ticketmaster to be something my children will have to ask me about like vhs, records, and republican presidents not named lincoln.

have i asked for this work day to be over. i want my true love to know that i might ask her hand in marriage every time we converse but 90 percent of the time its just cuz ive got nothing else to say. okay maybe eighty.

i want this sky and this sun and this air to stay the same for the rest of eternity cuz its perfect but im in this ivory tower and i have no hair to let down in which to escape.

i want everyone responsible for the 9/11 to eat it. rummy condi bushie for starters. not because they protect the rich but because theyd have been the first to bitch if gore had been where he shoulda been, which is large and in charge.

i want a large pizza. i want a large meatball. i want a large four wheel overdrive motor car. i want my camera to work again. i want to open its mouth clear a path and blow life back into it. i want a tire swing and a rope and a tree.

i want to have a sign and a chair and set it on the corner of hollywood and highland, i want the sign to say let me take your picture, $2, you might get into the best photography book about hollywood ever.

and i want a little sign that says, produced by a blogger

and an even smaller sign that says no more questions, either sign your name and print it and say cheese after you hand over the money, or keep walking.

i want to do it without talking.

whats his face said that the root of pain is want.

but my face says that the definition of being dead is to want nothing, so suck it, camus, nobody ever dresses up as you.

intricate plot + jason g + <3 kimmy <3

first they used sex to win the first few challenges in the hit tv show. then they were advised to use their brains instead of their sexuality and they lost a few challenges.

then they were mixed up with the men and they were pissed off when some of the men used them to be hot but left them out of the desicion-making.

and now that we’re a few days away from the final, theyre no where to be seen.

fired from the show.

as most of them shoulda been.

and so now theres a report that says that the ladies were offered $250k each to pose nude for playboy magazine and not only did they decline, but they instead posed in lingerie (pictured) for that icon of taste FHM.

their compensation: $0.

didnt their time with trump teach them anything?

obviously i am a man with an open mind. and if i was given a choice between hiring a woman who posed nude with a woman who posed in lingerie, i wouldnt think lessor of the woman who posed nude.

but apparently the women of the apprentice think differently.

yes there is a difference between being nude and wearing trashy lingerie.

to me there isnt much difference.

to the irs the difference is a quarter mil.

now i thought these women were interested in being entrepreneurs. dont they think $250,000 of seed money would be beneficial to them? more beneficial than the “exposure” that they will get off this laddy mag?

perhaps one reason i have an open mind is because i have an extremely short memory.

ive seen playboys “women of starbucks” ive seen playboy’s “women of wal*mart”, ive seen the girls of the pac-10, big-10, and i even got my playboy autographed by two ucsb gaucho women who posed during the “women of the big west”: and if you put any of those beautiful ladies in a line-up i wouldnt be able to tell you their names their colleges or their professions.

why do women think that posing for mr hefners magazine will cause them so much negative feedback and they dont think that fhm maxim and stuff wont?

if i could, im sure trump would fire these batty broads again.

and im glad they lost to kwame and his bro from the windy.

kevyn malone + mc brown needs gmail + offline adventures

why dont you start up your own left wing pot smoking pre marital sex actually read the bible church?

a. at a thousand hits a day, i reach more people on this blog and i dont have to tolerate any crying babies when im trying to rock the mic.

lost my wallet today.

it was a hectic day at work. i didnt really have much time to write. i couldnt talk to the hippy girl as much as i woulda liked. i wasnt 100 per cent being that it was a monday and it was the cubs opener and i still couldnt believe that tiff and tboz suprised me on saturday with tales of eighteen and over clubs and fake ids and pearl necklaces.

got a lift over to the cuban girl’s headquarters on hollywood blvd and outside the kfc i discovered that i had lost my regular wallet which consealed my xbi wallet. one thing you dont lose is that.

plus jeanine had given me a money order for $500 that i hadnt cashed yet and the first question is what on earth is jeanine doing writing money orders for that big, but what am i doing not cashing them immediately.

the cuban paid for the breast and wing combo and we went to my house to root around my backpack a little more.

she took a nap and i woke her up her favorite way while listening to kayne west. yes, virginia, kayne is the man. thank you for turning me on to him, i listen every day and i love it.

then we went at it again.

i dont know if its cuz its still aries, the month of war, but shit that id usually blow off is hitting me in the wrong part of my sore spot and i …

fuckers saying that i comment on blogs just for the hits? fuck you.

fuckers saying fuck the busblog, that other blogs are more creative.

wheres their stories and poems and fullpage webshit and photo essays and side blogs and side zines and side novels and ebay scams and interviews with escalators

i see people talk shit about me and have the nerve to do it in my style even

and it makes me happy cuz when they do it theyre saying that im the man

and i’ll take it.

cuz not everyone has what it takes to say what stinson and others have said which is i might disagree with you sometimes (or most the time) but i like your style

but they should.

and one day one of you fuckers might point to someone who brings it day after day after day after day and thats when you can tell me to fuck off and take a seat

meanwhile quit pointing to will wheaton

and then i found my wallet next to the recycling box beside chopper one.

now ive gotta find my phone.

anti + vortexia + dehumidifier

I know you hate me.

I know you’re still mad at me for making Wood and Prior throw the playoffs in October.

I know I promised you that I wouldn’t let that recall election go through in California.

But quite frankly, the fucking Falluja and the PDB are like a one-two punch and none of these nitwits here know what to do or say.

And I know you would know exactly what to say.

I know you like my video game analogies so heres one for you. The fighting guy has made it to the end of the level and now he’s fighting the bossman three times his size. And he’s winning.

Well, Tony, I’m the bossman, but I’m also America.

Please save America, this one last time.

And I promise you that I will give you anything that you want.

As much as you want.

I know you’re going to say you want my daughters, or a job where you can travel around and blog and meet people, but please lets get serious. I will give you money, power, I’ll get that Tsar thing on the radio. I’ll do anything.

Please write back soon, I have a press conference tomorrow in prime time and I don’t know what to say.

Sincerely,

George W. Bush

Washington

++++++++++++++++++++

Dear President Bush,

youve done the right thing. youve come to the right place. and youve said the right things. its too bad america doesnt know how honest you are when theres a gun pointed to your head. of course i want your daughters its true and they want me but thats just wrong and the lil’n looks like your old lady and no offense but, anyway, they look young.

i want a date with rebecca romaine hotshot.

i want clear channel to hire back howard stern and put him on all their stations, not just six.

i want you to banish the designated hitter from the american league and create a salary cap for both the players and the owners of major league baseball.

anything leftover goes to the poor.

i want ticketmaster shut down.

i want whatever chemical makes your dick so big that you think for a moment that i would actually help you in a zillion years.

i want titties on tv. i want you to legalize weed. i want you to wear a tshirt that says skateboarding is not a crime.

you lied to us about weapons of bah bah booey you sent us into shit and youre stuck in that shit now and we’re paying for it and now that youre paying for it a little bit youre swagger’s down to a limp. fuck you bitch and i’ll say it with authority.

didnt you tell me that pete rose would be in the hall of fame by now?

didnt you tell me that i wouldnt have to watch the view any more.

that leno would be removed from the tonight show and david lee roth would be back in van halen.

where the fuck is that super rogaine?

you said the fcc wouldnt do anything!

why arent there free condoms in every supermarket?

and why is gasoline fucking two fitty a drop you oil family heir to the fuck.

if youre america youre the sludge slapping the shore youre the strip malls on fire youre gridlock youre aids.

you come in smiling and you destroy quickly and ruthlessly but somehow in iraq youre limp and toothless and fumbling and wrong.

the shit doesnt plop far from the pee.

but heres what you should say tomorrow even though i know you wont even though you know you wont even though its true.

my fellow americans,

i am not a bright man, but i try.

i was a drunkard and a coke head and a frat boy and a loser.

but if america is about anything its about opportunity.

i was given the opportunity to run a baseball team and i failed.

but america is about opportunity and i was given a second chance, i was elected governor of one of the biggest states in the union.

i didnt entirely make a fool out of myself, so you elected me president.

on august sixth two thousand and one i didnt know it, no one knew it, but i was making a fool out of myself.

i got a memo that was titled “Bin Ladin Determined to Strike in U.S.” and because i didnt know

i swear to you i didnt know

that they meant it as in for reals

(say “for reals” and save your career)

i went on a month long vacation instead of huddling up and asking the 70 other investigations focused on Bin Laden to conference call with me about this curious memo.

i did nothing.

it was the longest vacation that a president ever took but

well,

im sorry.

if a golfer has a bad day he might not win a million dollars and a car, he might win like ten grand or something.

but when the president of the united states has a bad day

it can be bad.

as for iraq im going to just nuke those fucking ingrates in about ten minutes, so just chill on that shit.

thank you for your time.

i will answer no questions.

onelove.

tiffany + teera + miss america