but youd be surpised how quickly i can become offended and get unbelievably furious. maybe you wouldnt be surprised.

i think im a good person. i think i do good things. i think i am a fun person to be with. and i also thought i had plans to spend the weekend with a cheerleader and here it is noon and i havent seen said cheerleader since dinner time.

this isnt the first time that ive had a date with someone and in the middle of it they bail out.

most of the time i am a lovable libra. easy to please. easy to love. easy going. rockin out on faith no mores easy.

but i am on the scorpio cusp. usually just a pinky toe. sometimes completely submerged up to my fro.

sometimes when i say to someone, hey lets spend the weekend together, that could be considered a step in the right direction. someone reaching out to someone. someone trying to do more than play the old booty call game.

youd think some would appreciate such gestures, and dare i say, risks, out into the darkness

i once dated a young girl who wanted to be my girlfriend and kept my distance because she was so young. but eventually my defenses began to whither and one night i invited her to a romantic evening and i told her it was a date and she knew it would be a date and well lets just say that she in the middle of the date left me to go somewhere else and didnt return until 4:19 in the morning.

havent talked to her since.

not that she doesnt call. does she call? its been many moons since ive called her and last night she called three times. i didnt answer. why would i answer. and how did the indians live without caller id.

im not a lonely man. im not a bored man. i know i could get a high paying job if i really wanted one. i know i could have a cool girlfriend if i wanted.

exactly how the tribune corporation could do what it took to get the cubs to the world series.

if they wanted.

some people, i guess, just want to be mediocre

forever.

maybe you shouldnt be surprised

about that either.

splink is better than ever + instahangover + another take on blogs

i wasnt so sure i wanted to do that since so many people who visit sit on the couch, so i put a blanket down. then i put another blanket down. then we did it.

difference about doing it in the living room as opposed to the dungeon or the master bedroom is the living room has hard wood floors and moans and squeals and screams bounce and echo and broadcast all over the property. it was ridiculously warm today, so the windows were open but not for long.

she doesnt like it when i take little breaks but with hot chicks like her you have to take a little break, doesnt matter if youre 110 or 18, its ok to get a breather in there, if only for ten or fifteen seconds to shut the french windows or pull the shades.

like most of them, this un was an exhibitionist. is an exhibitionist. she could hear the workers outside the windows gardening and she gave me shit for not wanting to let them eavesdrop.

give the help a thrill, she scolded and turned over and scooted over the armrest

i put the darkness on the cd player.

took a sip of rum right out of the bottle and looked at what just might have been the best ass in all of hollywood

and then i took a gulp out of that bottle, set it down,

and wondered if people remembered that i was going to

6

count each time i got some

coyote + gnomegirl + leah

:

the curse of the black pearl

starring johnny depp and keira knightley

walt disney pictures

directed by gore verbinski

why didnt anyone tell me that this was a movie about a gay pirate?

the girl who brought this movie over today in flip flops and a sirrong because its 80 degrees told me that all of you have already seen this so im not giving anything away by talking about this, so i will talk about this.

remember in that scene where johnny depp is on that island with nothing but that hot chick and gallons of rum? remember when he puts his arm on her shoulder and she says that she hasnt dranken enough rum to get it on.

remember when the eyeliner wearing pirate with his long dangley earings and his pretty blouse and perfectly groomed moustasche says that he hadnt had enough rum to get it on with her too?

gay.

but its ok.

i dont even mind if all of the pirates of the black pearl were symbolic of survivors of aids, half alive half dead, taking life on and not raping when they pilage while waiting for the gold treasure + blood cure to remove their “curse”.

not only dont i mind it

i love it!

i especially love that the cure isnt the blood of the slinky young girl who doesnt like to wear dresses but prefers to crossdress in a british navy uniform, but its the blood of the slinky young boy who flounces around the smithery playing with his sword for three hours a day. every day.

5

my true love saw this movie and walked out because she said there was something fishy about it that just rubbed her the wrong way.

all i can say is i loved it. arrrrrrg.

i loved johnnys keith richards hunter s. thompson gay pirate

i loved thinking about a time when men didnt have to worry about their receeding hairlines because they wore pretty wigs

i loved the action and the special effects and the humor and the creativity.

on the greg vaine GBMRS? rating scale, i give this a good good good good.

dirty fez + welch + melting dolls

fuck friends. fuck rush limbaugh. fuck the view. fuck the president. fuck smog. fuck hemmoriods. fuck taxes. fuck colin quinn. fuck sally jesse fucking raphael. fuck american idol when theyre not auditioning people. fuck rick dees. fuck casey kasem. fuck people who care how i spell. fuck people who leave anonymous negative feedback.

fuck carson daly.

fuck tribune corp who owns the chicago cubs.

fuck the la times.

fuck rude drivers, aids, dollar chinese food that tastes like dog, fuck shrimp fried rice that has onions in it after i politely asked for no onions, fuck my phone that never stops ringing.

fuck infomercials.

my buddy travis k. is pleading with me to not fuck friends so i rescind my fucking of friends and i double fuck jimmy fallon who has a week to learn tina feys jokes and ALWAYS fucks them up.

fuck the fcc. when will adults get their tvs back?

fuck colin powell for not running. fuck michael powell for being more of an uncle tom sellout than his sellout dad.

fuck the yankees. fuck sars. fuck the terrorists. fuck the idea of terrorists. fuck the terror alert level.

fuck britney spears and her wedding. double fuck britney spears and her annulment. fuck the judge who took the bribe and annulled her marriage even though you cant annul marriages because “it was a joke.”

fuck the malloof brothers.

fuck people who make bad movies.

fuck meter maids. fuck the pope. fuck all the cardinals. fuck some of my old bosses. fuck the white sox. fuck mice. fuck lice. fuck bart giammottis rotting corpse.

fuck kathy lee gifford. still.

fuck almost everything thats on the radio.

fuck newscasters fuck djs fuck dance clubs fuck tickemaster to all hell.

fuck george bush and his father and his mother. yep fuck his mother too.

fuck quiet riot, fuck becks last few records, fuck pearl jam and 103.1s love affair with them, fuck KROQ, fuck dumbass motherfuckers who always end up not only in my life but central to my life.

fuck the flu

fuck young republicans, fuck screaming babies, fuck kids who have kids, fuck starbucks, fuck abecrombie, fuck tommy hillfucker, fuck fear, fuck zima, fuck yuma, fuck barry bonds, fuck steroids

fuck mosquitoes.

fuck sub-eighty degree temps in southern california.

fuck carpal tunnel syndrome.

and of course

fuck kwanza.

fuck + fuck fuck fuck + metafilter

i cant sit on them. my hope is someone will read this one day and go, holy fuck man, and then insist that i work for them. better yet, that i work with them.

its ten thirty. i havent eaten yet. i had a very nice surprise guest who offered to drive me home from work. then we had beers and talked and talked and then my landlady wanted me to mail my rent check. and then miss montreal called. then my true love. there just arent enough hours in the day.

im reluctant to watch this pete rose interview on abc. im reluctant to watch donald trumps new show.

all i want to do is write to you as tom waits sings me his newest songs off my media player.

all i want is for calgon to take me away.

all i want is something different better faster sleeker louder taller thicker wetter juicier with less calories and no carbs.

tsars on now.

if it wasnt for bukowski i would think that either you made it at nineteen or you never made it ever. that either the world got you immediately or the best you could wish for was something cool after you died.

i dont think i wrote anything very good for aarons baseball blog and for that, aaron, i apologize.

i miss the sopranos.

wanna know what i resolve.

its ok to have new new years resolutions eight days after the new year.

i resolve to just be cool about the job i have.

and the life im leading.

and the words that get typed in this space.

its all so disposable anyway isnt it. no more or less important than my twenty nine dollar dvd player.

in real life america. in real life, theres a hot shot young woman who wants to spend the weekend with me doing what i love to do.

nothing.

once she just slept on my couch while i wrote and thats pretty nice.

im sorry i complained that it was seventy today, canada.

i’ll stop wishing i was better.

amy + aaron’s baseball blog + leah now has comments

i have a staff of writers composed entirely of a hundred monkeys who think that they are the stars of this blog and not i. some days they might be right.

i wore a sweater into work today like a chump. its seventy one degrees here in LA today but its a cold seventy one if you can believe that.

had a little controversy with the blogger header today. the blogger header is the picture that i put on the top of this blog. usually i will take a picture and do something with it. sometimes i will just crop a picture. the other day tina linked to the incredible illustrations of kozyndan.

i of course fell in love with their style immediately

and i of course ganked their shit without permission.

cuz im a bum.

and of course they wrote me and called me out.

as they should.

with a very super superdooper wtf.

with a bonus compliment thrown in.

which is why i will probably get one of their posters soon.

im thinking about the bus one.

ashley just called me. crying. that girl sure can cry. i keep telling her i have to work. she doesnt care. she can hear the blades of chopper one but she doesnt believe that its me flying around hunting down bad guys.

she says i dont miss her. but i do.

i do.

for two years i talked to her every day. more than once a day.

of course i miss her.

today is a bizarre day.

i wish i had a way to express it to you in a word or two as thats all i have.

i wish there was one word that could paint the picture.

lets think of a good word now.

meadowlark.

today is as crazy as a damn meadowlark, people.

luckydisc

except for the chicks. i never liked wearing a suit to work. never liked mondays. never liked working overtime. never liked paying my rent. even though i hardly have to pay anything.

my landlady called today. shes 91. she actually called yesterday.

am i going crazy tony, or have you not paid your rent?

i called her this morn and told her that she wasnt going crazy, that for whatever reason i was the one who had forgotten to pay my rent.

i would love it if they just took my rent right out of my paycheck. everyone else seems to have their way with my paltry check.

this morning i wasnt so happy when i arrived at the hangar. chopper one was getting another overhaul. its creepy. i dont trust them.

heres what i like to do when i get into work. i like to read my email as chopper one warms up. i like to get a croissant from across the street and eat it with my apple juice. i like to see if anyone has commented on the post that i wrote the night before, then i like to fly chopper one around santa monica as the morning begins.

lately my routine has been all screwy.

its affecting the writing.

im so very sorry.

i feel like im a fish and a bunch of weirdos are making me drink booze.

a hot chick is gonna spend the weekend with me. a vacation of sorts. a weekend excursion. im thinking about just having her get a bunch of food and beer and lock ourselves up in my guest house in the back and lock all the doors. and while she sleeps i’ll write and while shes awake we will go through the tivo and just watch and watch and hold hands and watch her try on different outfits.

these are the things hemingway did, im pretty sure.

the drinking parts at least.

problem is a big time porn company has flowed me free tickets to the adult video convention in vegas this weekend.

i could go, but then the prospective employers who might be reading this blog might think that im some perv. im no perv. im just bored and i have no problems with naked people who get down.

people have dumber jobs.

like me.

read it before she deletes it again + steph + rupaul