i used to think i was gonna marry a black girl

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bingthen i thought i would marry an asian girl

then a white girl

then a latina

now i think i’ll marry whoever is the nicest to me.

over the last two days ive been driving as much uber as i possibly can because they have this cash bonus if you do 75 trips.

little do they tell you its impossible to do 75 trips if everyone else in LA is trying to get 75 trips

so in a twisted way its genius of uber because we’re running around like crazy

giving people $4 rides in our mercedeses

on one hand it makes you feel like quitting the whole thing at the end of the week

and on the other hand you meet all these super cool people who you wouldnta normally met because

you wouldnta been out at 11pm looking for annnnnnyone to ping you.

got this smelly chef tonight.

then got this korean kid who said korea is cool if youre a party animal but not if youre chill

then got these two beautiful saudi ladies with incredible clothes.

then got a lady with leather pants who quietly farted and it smelled like burning hair.

then got this dude who was super cool, and then a lady who wanted to talk about Bowie

but the best was a young record producer with crazy hair

it was my longest trip and he told me to relax

that rock n roll is coming back

via skye ferra

tame impala

and haim.

and i was all, toss some guitar solos in there

please and thank you.

are you a pipe?

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Magritte's Pipei feel like im a pipe, but around some people im not at all a pipe

and i cannot help it.

i feel like they have wrong me in some way and i dont wanna be a pipe.

i wanna clog that ish. i wanna put off a bad taste.

i wanna say, why are you packing it so full or why do you gotta slobber on it

or bite it.

i say WHY ARE YOU BITING IT YO!

and if they see how i am with other people they might say, see, he is a pipe. in fact he’s the greatest pipe in this whole damn world. whys he gotta be a big jerk to me and a wonderful pipe to everyone else?!?

and i say let me count the ways.

and i say are you a pipe to me?

are you a wonderfully looking smooth handcrafted made in the USA perfect pipe to me or are you something lesser than?

are you a pipe or are you something that clogs the pipe? are you who you say you are? are you who we hoped youd be or are you just a painting of what we wanted.

me im just a former xbi agent trying to shed all the crud ive picked up along this long strange trip.

but for safety sake, just pretend im not a pipe.

ceci n’est pas une pipe, aussi, magritte.

 

i like players who are exciting

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pete rosecall me crazy.

one day the cubs were playing the philadephia phillies and for some reason i was at the game.

i dont know why but i didnt hate pete rose. if anything i was on the fence about him because he had never hurt the cubs, and he beat the AL in the world series all the time i bet on him.

later in his career they moved him over to first base and in the first inning, after the cubs had made their last out on a ground out, Pete spiked the ball super hard in the grass and it rolled over to the mound

and everyone booed like crazy.

and i thought this is the greatest thing ever.

because you can get people to react when you get a hit or snare a line drive, or bowl over their catcher or injure their shortstop

but who knew you rile them up a second after the inning was over?

this, the game pretty boy Bryce Harper thinks is boring.

your obsession with hair care products are boring, Bryce, not the national pasttime.

there was never anything boring about Pete Rose, not when he was in the box, on the bases, or running off the field to a torrent of summertime chicago hate.

so of course he would autograph a baseball to Donald Trump.

for the right price he’ll autograph a baseball to you

and he’ll write anything youd like him to say

 

pete baseball

and run straight to the bank with that goofy smile of his

i have many faults

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gwen stefaniand one of them is that when someone calls me out on twitter or facebook or whereever, i have a very hard time ignoring them.

as a gentleman, i believe it’s proper form to return a volley

but last night something interesting happened. a troll who had trolled me once before was up to his old tricks and every now and then id pull over and reply to his nonsense.

early in the conversation i realized that he had 68 followers, which is nearly impossible.

just by signing up and alerting all of your “friends” you should immediately have a few hundred followers

unless you are full of crap and not who you claim to be.

so instead of engaging him with his bizarre attempt at mockery as he suggested i was unemployed and collecting benefits, i told him that those were exactly the types of things that prevents one from having a healthy twitter presence and that i would like to enter into a wager with him that my two adorable cats could gain a larger twitter following in a week than this fellow currently has.

i drove and moved on but an hour or two later a friend asked he who was that troll? so i checked his twitter to see if he had said something new to inspire that question, when i discovered he had completely deleted his account!

and then it occurred to me what i had suspected all along: if you have fewer than 200 followers you are probably a fraud or a phony or someone up to no good and you should be ignored. this man “Dan” had obviously created the account to rant at strangers and then when the going gets tough he deletes his deal and runs home.

what a waste of time for all parties involved.

so thats my new rule: no bickering with fools with less than 250 followers because it’s probably dick cheney.

there’s gonna be a day that i die

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two years oldand on that day i dont want anyone to take it easy on me just because i died that day.

we have this strange form of “politeness”- an unwritten rule – that says you can’t piss on the grave of the recently departed.

i hate that.

theres only one time when people from all over talk about you and thats the week that you die.

if youve kept it real when talking about someone their whole life, why must that be put on pause simply because youve left this mortal coil?

why must we bullshit each other during the week when we’re all talking about you?

my guess is it’s rooted in some sort of superstition that The Gods are listening and will decide what to do with the dead’s soul based on what they’re overhearing from below.

which is just as stupid as withholding criticism.

if you loved me when i was alive and said so when i was alive, say so when i die.

if you thought i was full of shit when i was alive and said so when i was alive, then lay it on me when i die. trust me, the comments will be up.

and if you kept it all to yourself when i was alive and there is a conversation when i die, honor me in this way: add to the conversation. do not be stifled.

if there is an afterlife and if im lucky enough to make it into Heaven, trust me, I won’t be reading the comments. I will be chasing Marilyn Monroe around a hot fudge hot tub with a giant super soaker.

if there is an afterlife and im unlucky enough to be sent down to Hades, trust me, the Internet connection will blow and i wont be able to read what you say anyways, so go for it.

and if there is no afterlife and my ashes are spread around the bleachers of Wrigley Field, trust me, i won’t know what you wrote.

so go for it.

live your life.

that is the message of the busblog anyways: live. rock. be creative. be interesting. do not be stifled. be free. enjoy all the riches of modern life.

which includes pissing on the graves of those you hated.

or sending a million roses.

me, id prefer Gerbers

and honesty.

had to buy $800 worth of tires today so i did some ubering

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berniefirst guy i got was a college basketball player who kept to himself.

boring.

then i got these two college freshmen girls visiting here from an ivy league school.

we talked about the OJ trial and social media and then i dropped off one of them and it was just me and the other.

i asked her if she liked being in college.

she said she did but it has been a bit of a culture shock because she went to an all girls private school in manhattan and

she was raised believing in girl power

and men and women being equals

but as soon as she starts going to college she hears her cohorts talk about how

they want a wife who will stay home and raise the kids

she said like all of the dudes are like that.

and she was all, hey why do you think im at college? to learn to change a diaper?

i said you know what, youve gotta keep that up.

i told her, when i was in college it was the women who taught me the most,

especially all the things i was completely wrong about.

i said, beat it into the boys.

we need it.

then she told me one of her classmates is donald trumps youngest daughter.

tiffany.

i was like, wow, what a perfect name.

we’re not beverly hills dogs

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beverly hills dogswe dont have to just sit there

waiting for our chance to run.

waiting on the benz to slow down over the speed bump

or worse, looking at trees but thinking about a bowl of wet food by the garage door.

the world is our fire hydrant.

there are so many strange butts to sniff

grass to roll around in

full moons to yap at

squirrels to chase

balls to fetch

trucks to get smooshed by

holes to tunnel down

sticks to break

walls to stain

nuts to lick

and babes who wanna pet us.

aint no reason to sit there and watch the world go by because like all those famous ppl sang

we are the world

we are the children

we are the ones playing with julio down by the school yard.

theres no extras in this game called life.

so get ready

cuz thats another speed bump ahead

i was driving home from work last night minding my own business

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the poorly educatedlistening to the results of the elections coming in.

and they cut to Donald Trump making a victory speech because he had just won some big speech.

and he went on and on and on and there werent any commercials or interruptions

it was just the GOP frontrunner talking.

and talking.

and it dawned on me that CNN, which I was listening to, is in the ratings business. and as long as people were tuned in they were happy.

and things like debates and chat shows before and after the debates and candidates like Donald Trump are low-budget easy-to-produce television (and radio)

which, as we are seeing, can bring in much bigger ratings than anything they’ve ever produced before.

sorry, Anthony Bourdin.

but then it occurred to me that maybe airing as much Donald Trump as possible for as many ratings as possible might not be the best thing for the country, nor is it the most balanced or responsible journalism. arent there others in this race? shouldnt the public know just as much as the other names on the ballot?

or is this all about ratings, which means this is all about money, which means once again heres an organization who cares far more about the bottom line than

silly things like the environment

education

alternative energies

reproductive rights

and all of the things that donald trump doesnt talk about because those things fly right over the heads of the people who are tuning into him insult the height and energy levels of his opponents?

in a perfect world all of the politicians would get the same amount of air time. but sadly it seems like many of these cable news operations has no interest in that sort of perfect world.

it seems their perfect world involves the yuuuugest ratings they could ever get no matter what.

so i turned off the radio, pulled over, and bought 3 double doubles. because who cares. right?