use the force, take what the defense gives you.

i know this. i KNOW this. still i fight it. tony dumbass to the rescue.

karisa and i have a complete friendship based around this way of life and still i forget this theme. chopper one. drunnk golfing. absolute marksmanship. sega nhlpa hockey. making love. making lust. playing shortstop. even writing in this damn blog has always been about taking it easy, taking myself out of it and going with the flow, and still i forget that sometimes and get upset when things dont go precisely the way i envision it, and i apologize to the universe for being a fallen tree branch in the river of life and messing with the stream of rock.

today i got into the office and there was an email from the commander telling us that we were to go code phil collins starting this evening.

that meant we were to go solo.

he’s old.

if i ran the show i would call it code beyonce but i dont want to run the show. i just want to do my part.

what it means is that we have information that the offices are unsafe. that shit will go down. that we have to take any work home with us. that we cant call into the office. that we cant be teamed up with partners. that i have to take chopper one to the hangar tonight and take a cab home.

putting one plus one together we deduced that the guy who is ratting us out to the fbi and the press didnt get found by us yet and has started narcing and the wrong person is going to end up in the wrong place at the wrong time so we’re making like trees and vamoosing.

so the boss told us to phil collins today and tomorrow and we take the fourth off cuz we love this country and i dont work weekends so it looks like im going to be like styx and have too much time on my hands.

fortunately i have nothing to do this weekend and i have a few friends who might want to do something, like my old roommate sam. and karisas friend ditch is in town with mikey muscles so i might have to take them to a titty bar on one of the nights that shes gonna do a girls night out with her ladies.

it sucks cuz i wanted to get ditch drunk and take him up in chopper one but everything needs to be on lockdown while the stoolie is on the loosie.

and you know what i really want right now?

i want a venice beach hot dog, and a vanilla soft serve dipped in that magic chocolate and i want to keep on reading Moneyball, and i want to just go with the flow

cuz the flow is good.

and im still the luckiest motherfucker from here to gardenia.

the bikini diaries + brit coal + anartic waste +dicta

cuz we were starving and it was hot and together all we ever do is fuck the law.

since she was driving i could take pictures and white girls with long hair who put in hip hop and sing along can be pretty cute.

probably for two years i didnt look at karisa and that it seems worked out real nice because today i realized that right now she is probably my best friend.

i talk to her more than anyone. i listen to her advice. i love being with her. and if theres one person who knows where im at right now its probably her.

she was driving so fast that the cops couldnt possibly see us and we were at pf changs before the sun went down.

probably ninety percent of the things that ive ever done with karisa were set up through email.

weird if you think about it cuz we’ve done a shitload of things.

thats weird too. cuz most of the things that weve done were so fun that they havent sunk in yet.

i have the weirdest life, america. we ate like pigs at pf changs. and we drank. then we went across town and drank and played darts and listened to good jukebox music. all these boys filled up the machine but her selections were the best. sexpistols, classic vh, doors, ramones, zep

i kicked her ass at both games of darts. she’d bend over to pick up a fallen dart and try to cover her back so we couldnt see her underwear and i was thinking who … what…

she used to joke that everyone in the xbi had seen her underwear back when we worked together. and if you were at the powerhouse last night you woulda seen london and france.

she kept holding her belly cuz we ate so much and there we were splitting a pitcher of natty light in a seedy hollywood divebar who had no a/c and was so hot that the girls were glowing as u2 played and people laughed and summer you couldnta come at a better time.

my friends went camping + a tiny movie that greg and i made + nay

momma ran off with a trucker, momma ran off with a trucker. peterbuilt. peterbuilt.

ive been rocking out to the drive-by truckers and if it wasnt for the kids who turn me on to the good tunes, i dont know what i would do.

the kids have it all. they know it all. they know most, i guess, the rest they get out of me by poking a straw into my head and sucking it out like an orange julius.

they barage me with IMs when im trying to write, and thats nice.

i dont know why i even log on to aim anymore cuz the cute gurls just tease and i have no true loves out there any more and i didnt realize that until last night when one of the teens was interviewing me for their gangblog.

tony, i cant even believe youre letting me interview you this is so friggin cool! they’ll type and that makes me happy cuz secretly i cant believe they want to interview me.

so tell us, boxers or briefs?

boxerbriefs.

all they ever want to talk about are hits and sex. im the one who has to ask about music and whats it like to be a highschooler with dsl. can you imagine? there was a whole generation who actually had the internet in highschool but couldnt use it cuz it was tying up the phone line.

then a question came out that caught me off gaurd. actually it wasnt the question, it was the answer that stunned me.

when was the last time you got some?

and i looked at my FHM calander that i was about to flip over. this month Ashanti was checking me out and i flipped it back a month and then another month and i thought, could it be true? here it was July first and i had been shut out not only all of june but all of may too?

two months!

the gasp heard across the broadband was astonishing.

nothing in this interview is true, right?

i told the kid that i only bs in the blog and we were all a little crushed that i — two months!?

what had i done wrong?

and the astrology? why hadnt brezney warned me about the oncoming draught.

what sort of free astrologer was he pretending to be anyhow?

not even a bj? the fresh faced high schooler asked.

and i love the planet that the kids of america live on. the one that i need to visit one day where the girls will meet you half way with oral copulation as if it were a goodnight hug of somesort. i need directions to that world for it is a loving one. although it probably would give me the creeps. i mean, is that how they tip the pizzaman?

no, nothing i typed. i dont even think i felt a girl up last month i told the lad.

but

then i had to think about if i had even felt up a girl in june. damn memory. damn memento. damn xbi fucking up the program.

but

i felt up an ex girlfriend a few times the second to last time we hung out, but that was for different reasons. purely experimental. a science project was due.

but youre tony pierce.

and thats when i was able to see the drought for what it was. a way for this particular young man to see that even if he grew up to be a world reknown blogger there would be certain months when

well

yeah.

and i wish he had just typed in what i bet he was thinking,

so youre just as lame and pathetic as me?

to which i would have said yes

as the phone rang

clippergirl

back from her vacation.

tanned.

wanting to either fuck or fight.

which is why i let that bad boy ring.

doc searls + internet pundit fantasy camp + buzznet live from wimbeldon

i drink too much lite beer, i watch too much tv, i answer the phone far too much.

two girls came over tonight with a little thing of marijuana, america, and what are you supposed to do with that?

brazillian girls with the best accents. have i ever told you how i love accents? luuuuuuuuuuuuuv.

they rolled the thing and licked it and made sure it was tight and perfect and narrow and potent which is a trick at my age as the only thing that makes me startle any more is how many morons have control over things.

but im even starting to get used to that.

karma. me and this hot chick were at my doctors office this morning. in the waiting room. she had gotten pink eye but still looked hot. i said whats it like. she said fluid was dripping out of my eye. i said um gross and still undressed her with my eyes. you woulda too.

she asked what i was in for. i told her theyve got to shave another inch off it and both her eyebrows went up.

the girth i assured, just the girth.

picked up a sports illustrated from two months ago. the baseball preview issue and saw who they were picking back in april to do well.

she said maybe we were some evil bastards in a past life if we have to go through this shit now.

and i love girls who swear. it means they whisper the best things when they whisper.

i eat too many doritios and pizza and malt balls and tom kha kai.

im crazy about milk i realize as i say aloud.

and that coulda come out wrong but with some people its impossible. she understood.

she esped me.

what do you want to do right now?

i esped back

write something really good.

she said would you write about me

i said i couldnt even begin to write about you

and she wrote her number down in a subscription card to vice magazine

the nurse called her name

veronica

she got up and walked through the swinging doors without ever looking back at me.

i looked down at the card and above her name she had written

ronnie

and there aint no fucking way im dating a girl name ronnie

no matter how smoking she looked in a business suit, skirt, heels

and pink eye

in a waiting room on fairfax.

laurita + gorilla mask + waterslide

some guy quit and threatened to expose the xbi for what it is. but the stupid thing is the cops, the fbi, and even the judges know what the xbi is and how we grease the wheels of justice.

only people who dont know are the press and some of the press know and keep their mouths shut.

the santa barbara mafia know, but they know everything.

so anyway, now everyone is out to get the guy who is breaking the first rule of fight club.

which is scary cuz we might get found out, but its also fun cuz none of us liked this guy in the first place and everyone has been waiting for this time to beat the crap out of him.

me, i just want to write to you and enjoy the sun and think about fonder days. days when i woke up in the arms of america and was pulled back into bed with gentle pleas and warm caresses and i even was allowed the opportunity to burn a sick day in the name of love and lust.

freedom, where have you flown off to?

dont get me wrong, im not sad. if anything today finds your narrator in great spirits, oddly.

great for no reason.

theres no girl who wants to wear my pin. theres no ball club who wants to pick up my option. theres no weapons inspectors interested in my dirty bombs.

all i have is you bloggy blog.

all i have are these pixels and kilobytes.

some guy wants to know why we will miss miss katherine hepburn and its cuz we are sentimental people who grow to like the actors who perform for us.

someone told me a little story of arnold schwartzennegar and his wife walking down the street the other day and how the public ran out of their doors to hunt him down and demand his attention and his autograph. there is a price of fame which is why karisa doesnt want it. and it doesnt matter if you have more oscars than any other female actress and it doesnt matter if you never will be nominated.

our celebs make us feel better somehow, especially when theyre near us. and for that reason we should give them a break when theyre down on their luck and why we should respect them when they bow out after 96 years.

when i pass away i want people to know that i had an extremely blessed life. that i wasnt born with any obvious deformities. that i had a good childhood and a fine education and loving girlfriends and amazing friends.

and i had what some of the ladies were quoted as calling “magical hands.”

which doesnt mean that i shouldnt be remembered fondly when i go.

i guess all i want is to be remembered at all.

which i dont mind doing for miss hepburn today.

inluminent + wKen + mr. pennyworth

starring Drew Barrymore, Cameron Diaz, Lucy Lui, Demi Moore, Bernie Mac

directed by McG

clippergirls cousin has a funny way about her. she says shes gonna drive me somewhere and then she doesnt take me there. she calls it kidnapping the famous blogger.

i tell her that a thousand readers a day isnt fame. she says i get more than a thousand that my counter is shit. i say even if its two thousand its still not fame. she says everyone wants more. i say i do want more. but not more more, better more. i want girls to fall in love with me more and companies to hand over blank checks more and former english teachers to take it all back more and for me to look at my page a week after and laugh more.

actually i do get that one sometimes.

we were supposed to be heading to the wessssside to go to my old college roommate sam’s house to go see a movie together, just he and i but instead she drove me to manns chinese and we watched charlies angels 2, which was a little weird because part of it was filmed there, and ashley was an extra there, and i had never been inside the famous manns chinese ever before.

it was also weird cuz she wanted to hold my hand and i didnt wanna but she insisted and i didnt want to have any bad feelings while we were watching the totally watchable movie.

i love mcg‘s style and the pace and the imagination of it all. im glad filmmakers are willing to just go crazy in movies now and have fun doing it. it is just a fucking movie, after all. we do want escapism. we dont want to think about jobs and bosses and fighting crime and the fact that after the movie a perfectly good half japanese twenty year old is going to want to get it on and i will have to say no. again.

i can be such a dick when a girl likes me and i dont like her that way and i hate feeling that way. i am not a dick. it makes me totally appreciate karisa cuz she puts up with that all the time and i dont ever see her act differently, i wonder how she does it.

boys do want a little thrill of a chase. and as a libra, i want a little balance. i want her to want me like i want her. and i do want clippergirls cousin on a certain level. it would be fun to just mess around on a sunday night in a scary hollywood park after the softball lights flicker off or behind the three of clubs or in a back seat or in the la coliseum top row with airplanes flying overhead. but this girl is young and she will fall in love and not with me but with the closeness. and who can blame her. youre supposed to, after all.

romance is the one thing thats always missing in action films and it shouldnt be that way. make it a lovestory that gets fucked up by bad guys who kidnap the girl and the guy has to action movie his way into finding her and capturing her. its easy. make him do super romantical things during his quest. make him send homing pigeons to her. make him send smoke signals. make him shoot a guy in the chest with a machine gun and make the bullets form a heart in his torso.

make him have a plane that spells out words in the sky that says tony plus ilka.

make him nearly kill a bad guy and make him take off the bad guys shirt and put on her favorite shirt of his and send him back to the bad guys headquarters. little signs that he loves her and hes thinking of her and he misses her and she should know hes gonna find her and live happily ever after. even though ive never seen one person live happily ever after. never mind two.

the xbi has done things like this before, but not romantic things.

we’ve carved out messages in the dead hit men before.

i havent, of course. i respect the dead, even though theyre dead. but i dont protest it either because crazy people need to know that theres someone just a little more crazy out there, and it helps if the crazy think that the super crazy work with me and will carve some shit into them if theyre caught slippin.

afterwards we ate at mcdonalds and didnt talk about the film, but talked about the music and the tshirts instead.

i thought about ashley alot while watching the movie and when i got home she had called and clippergirls cousin was stepping into something a lot more comfortable and she sneered at the caller id that said “ashley, cell phone”.

shes a darker skinned girl. i think shes part hawaiian and when shes naked it doesnt seem naked it seems normal. especially on a warm june night when im not going to have sex with her im not even gonna kiss her and im listening to evan dando sing with julianna hatfield about being drug buddies and im past doing drugs anymore but i still appreciate that song cuz its about friendship and im such a big fan of that even though im a rotten friend and that was the best theme of charlies angels two: full throttle.

that, and that demi moore is still a hot piece of ass.

shellen + vodka pundit + little green footballs

today we’re going to outright steal something from someone else’s blog because it’s wonderful.

Tuesday, June 17, 2003

Not at all interesting:

I know you all love my inane blather so much that you haven’t really missed the inclusion of photos in my posts, but I have decided to bring them back because, well, I like looking at celebrities of either gender in low-cut ensembles, so you are just going to have to deal with it.

This weekend I wasn’t very productive. I basically just spent a lot of time sleeping fitfully because it’s so fucking hot on the third floor of my loft, but there is no other place for me to sleep so I just turn the fan to the highest setting, point it at myself and then grab onto something so I don’t get blown off the bed. I did go out and get my friend Karen some bourbon for her birthday present, because nothing says friendship like hard liquor. Her birthday party was funtimes and I got to reconnect with a couple of ladies that I think are pretty kickass, and since I’m now a freewheelin’ single gal, I’m glad I have some other freewheelin’ single gals to hang out with when we go out somewhere, because really, if you are a single gal and you go out by yourself you’re really not all that freewheelin’.

Yesterday I took the day off work because I really needed a fucking day off already. Plus, I had an appointment for a physical, and sometimes physicals are kind of traumatic, so I wanted to have the rest of the day off in case I needed to recover from all the horrific poking and prodding. Fortunately there wasn’t much poking and there was very little prodding. I think my regular doctor saves all the prodding action for my gynecologist, which I will be sure to describe for you in detail after my next pap smear. Anyway, I got a clean bill of health except for my dirty bastard of a stomach, but I already knew that was fucked up so I wasn’t really surprised. My doctor thinks that all of my stomach problems are due to a sensitivity to wheat gluten, which permeates the very soul of our culture and is extremely hard to avoid, so she is sending me to a gastroenterologist to have my gutmeats examined. I think that all my stomach problems can probably be traced to my rampant alcoholism and tendency to internalize all of my stress to the point where I think my brainmeats might implode, but I’m no doctor, so I’ll go see the gut dude. In any case, as far as my doctor is concerned, I am totally and completely normal and healthy.

She didn’t examine my other four personalities, though, so I guess there will always be some doubt as to my true overall health status.

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