today is Prince and Michael’s birthdays, they’re one

there were all these stray cats in our courtyard for a good year due to the cat lady next door who was evicted for having all of these cats in her home and hallway.

instead of taking them with her she just bailed and came back now and then to feed them.

the cats eventually wandered to our tropical courtyard and me and the neighbors feed them because they were cute and they pooped across the street in the unused grass of the big church.

i liked two cats the most, a black and white one that i named Blanket and a brown and white one i named Boldy but changed it to Wrigley. Wrigley would follow me from my car to my door and i would occasionally let him in but i respected his freedom and when he wanted to leave, i let him leave. same with Blanket.

one day Blanket seemed scratched up like he’d been in a fight. the next day he didnt come around. but the day after that he came back and he seemed even more scratched up. a week later in the middle of the night we neighbors heard such a blood curdling cry that we assumed a bald eagle had swooped down and torn one of the cats asunder.

the next day we agreed to stop feeding them because we were putting them in danger.

a few months later i stopped seeing Blanket. i figured he died.

until two little kittens appeared on my doorstep looking a lot like him.

i named them Prince and Michael.

i’d never held kittens. and these two were adorable and so sweet. i asked my neighbor what i should do and she said no way can we let them stay outside because what if that bald eagle comes back. i was all yeah. so i got some kitty litter and a box and plopped them on it and boom they peed. it was a modern miracle.

i got them some food and they ate it and feel asleep on my lap.

that was a year ago. they’ve never run out of the house. they seem very content inside running around, killing spiders and any creepy crawlers. they even killed a rodent once and that was when i loved them the most.

they are super co-dependent on each other and a joy to have around.

i dont even mind the cat hair that ends up on my clothes.

it’s their way of saying, thanks for all the fish.

heres the problem with the Khaleesi, i mean tom brady

11 out of 12 of his balls were deflated.

one out of one of his cell phones was destroyed after the NFL started asking about it.

he’s a fucking cheater and a liar and destroyer of technology.

he shouldnt have even been allowed to play in the Super Bowl, but the NFL is just as fucked up.

would any man – especially a married man with a track record of dumping his pregnant girlfriend to get with a super model – want anyone rifling through his 10,000(!) text messages? no.

and thats where he should have just accepted the 2-game suspension that the league was offering if he just owned up to it.

instead he fought it. and lost. of course he lost. he had deflated his balls! youre going to lose when you cheat, text the ball boy, lie, have a history of lying and cheating, and then destroy your cellphone.

so the problem is now Tom Brady is going to facebook(!) to whine about how the league has wronged him and how neither he did anything wrong nor did anyone on his team do anything wrong.

negro, 11 out of 12 balls were deflated!

did that happen from magic?!?

like how you have never aged or gotten injured or lost a step in your long career in the NFL?

the only magic that exists is the fact that you even got to play in the Super Bowl after being caught cheating in the playoffs.

i know of no other place that would see someone cheating and let them continue their season without punishment and then wait months and months and months to come to a conclusion about something that was proven minutes after the playoff game.

THAT would have been the time to seize said Samsung phone.

THAT would have been the time to question the stuttering equipment dude.

THAT would have been the time to question the Golden Boy for 14 hours.

instead the league dragged their feet in hopes that their worst nightmares wouldnt be true: the face of their beloved and hugely profitable league wasn’t a dirty fucking cheater and liar and breaker of korean wireless communication.

the problem with Tom Brady is he has literally had his dick sucked so often that he thinks he can get away with whatever he wants to get away with.

sorry bro, the suck stops here.

got out of my ride and felt stiff

is this what getting old is like?

i drive so much, thats probably the problem. i feel great though. my hands my fingers, my legs. when you have rides all the aches go away.

but still, i cant go on like this.

theres a gym across the street from my work im thinking about joining. all i do at lunch is spend money. what a waste.

may as well run one day. lift the next day. do yoga the third day and get all of this back together.

i used to be an all star athlete.

I USED TO BE A CONTENDER!

when i walk down the street i dont feel like an old man. i park in a place thats actually a medical facility.

seeing the old people struggle to get in and out of their cars with the help of their filipino assistances is scary as hell.

these people didnt look like this when they were my age.

i dont know if i will live to 90 but if i do i dont want to be the people i see every morning.

i want to ride my hoverboard to the spot, ollie over a station wagon, jump off of it, and have it flip into my fanny pack.

like Al Gore intended.

these are my goals.

today is Prince and Michael’s birthdays, they’re one

there were all these stray cats in our courtyard for a good year due to the cat lady next door who was evicted for having all of these cats in her home and hallway.

instead of taking them with her she just bailed and came back now and then to feed them.

the cats eventually wandered to our tropical courtyard and me and the neighbors feed them because they were cute and they pooped across the street in the unused grass of the big church.

i liked two cats the most, a black and white one that i named Blanket and a brown and white one i named Boldy but changed it to Wrigley. Wrigley would follow me from my car to my door and i would occasionally let him in but i respected his freedom and when he wanted to leave, i let him leave. same with Blanket.

one day Blanket seemed scratched up like he’d been in a fight. the next day he didnt come around. but the day after that he came back and he seemed even more scratched up. a week later in the middle of the night we neighbors heard such a blood curdling cry that we assumed a bald eagle had swooped down and torn one of the cats asunder.

the next day we agreed to stop feeding them because we were putting them in danger.

a few months later i stopped seeing Blanket. i figured he died.

until two little kittens appeared on my doorstep looking a lot like him.

i named them Prince and Michael.

i’d never held kittens. and these two were adorable and so sweet. i asked my neighbor what i should do and she said no way can we let them stay outside because what if that bald eagle comes back. i was all yeah. so i got some kitty litter and a box and plopped them on it and boom they peed. it was a modern miracle.

i got them some food and they ate it and feel asleep on my lap.

that was a year ago. they’ve never run out of the house. they seem very content inside running around, killing spiders and any creepy crawlers. they even killed a rodent once and that was when i loved them the most.

they are super co-dependent on each other and a joy to have around.

i dont even mind the cat hair that ends up on my clothes.

it’s their way of saying, thanks for all the fish.

heres the problem with the Khaleesi, i mean tom brady

11 out of 12 of his balls were deflated.

one out of one of his cell phones was destroyed after the NFL started asking about it.

he’s a fucking cheater and a liar and destroyer of technology.

he shouldnt have even been allowed to play in the Super Bowl, but the NFL is just as fucked up.

would any man – especially a married man with a track record of dumping his pregnant girlfriend to get with a super model – want anyone rifling through his 10,000(!) text messages? no.

and thats where he should have just accepted the 2-game suspension that the league was offering if he just owned up to it.

instead he fought it. and lost. of course he lost. he had deflated his balls! youre going to lose when you cheat, text the ball boy, lie, have a history of lying and cheating, and then destroy your cellphone.

so the problem is now Tom Brady is going to facebook(!) to whine about how the league has wronged him and how neither he did anything wrong nor did anyone on his team do anything wrong.

negro, 11 out of 12 balls were deflated!

did that happen from magic?!?

like how you have never aged or gotten injured or lost a step in your long career in the NFL?

the only magic that exists is the fact that you even got to play in the Super Bowl after being caught cheating in the playoffs.

i know of no other place that would see someone cheating and let them continue their season without punishment and then wait months and months and months to come to a conclusion about something that was proven minutes after the playoff game.

THAT would have been the time to seize said Samsung phone.

THAT would have been the time to question the stuttering equipment dude.

THAT would have been the time to question the Golden Boy for 14 hours.

instead the league dragged their feet in hopes that their worst nightmares wouldnt be true: the face of their beloved and hugely profitable league wasn’t a dirty fucking cheater and liar and breaker of korean wireless communication.

the problem with Tom Brady is he has literally had his dick sucked so often that he thinks he can get away with whatever he wants to get away with.

sorry bro, the suck stops here.

got out of my ride and felt stiff

is this what getting old is like?

i drive so much, thats probably the problem. i feel great though. my hands my fingers, my legs. when you have rides all the aches go away.

but still, i cant go on like this.

theres a gym across the street from my work im thinking about joining. all i do at lunch is spend money. what a waste.

may as well run one day. lift the next day. do yoga the third day and get all of this back together.

i used to be an all star athlete.

I USED TO BE A CONTENDER!

when i walk down the street i dont feel like an old man. i park in a place thats actually a medical facility.

seeing the old people struggle to get in and out of their cars with the help of their filipino assistances is scary as hell.

these people didnt look like this when they were my age.

i dont know if i will live to 90 but if i do i dont want to be the people i see every morning.

i want to ride my hoverboard to the spot, ollie over a station wagon, jump off of it, and have it flip into my fanny pack.

like Al Gore intended.

these are my goals.

took an Australian girl to the airport

eighteen, nineteen, who knows. she was impressed by everything i did and said.

and the whole night was like that it seemed.

i only like to do one or two long rides on weekend nights for a few reasons.

mostly my hands and arms but as soon as i dropped her off i got another ping.

then im driving across town to koreatown heading home and i get another

this one was a traveling salesman from milwaukee. we hit it off too.

talk talk talk.

to the airport marriot. fine.

then as im fixin to get on the 105 i get pinged again! what madness is this?

monday night?!?!

headed to inglewood. close to the forum. dark street.

its a black girl and her aunt and her mom. big suitcases.

big suitcases make me think they meant to get an Uber XL and not an Uber Plus.

XLs are mini vans. perfect for luggage.

well we put one of the suitcases in the passenger seat and the women squeeze in the back.

as soon as we are in i say

ok the most important question of the day: what sorta music would you like to hear?

they laugh and say what i have on is fine.

i hit go on the app and it says we’re going to LAX, no duh.

so i say, ok are we going somewhere fun?

almost in unison they say JAMACIA!

so i say oh well lets hear some reggae mon!

and we listen to reggae and talk about weed and sitting by a pool

and soul food and jerk chicken

and tacos

when it was over they tipped me $5 and i turned off the app

took the 105 to the 110 to the 101

and sang bob marley all the way to hollywood.

picasso was never called an asshole

when youre young you never worry about your health, your retirement fund, or obama spying on your skype chats

but when you get older that kink in your back lingers, your hands have to be treated with kid gloves

and you have to watch out getting out of the couch too quickly or you’ll throw something out.

it’s no way to live and makes you feel like youre gonna die.

heres the things i wanna do and know before i publish my last post:

did i really live. did i really love.

did all the unique stories that i could tell get told.

will the good Lord be happy that i walked and talked and rocked around this beautiful crust.

or was all of this a terrible waste.

picasso worked and worked and everything in his workshop was beautiful AND looked like picassos.

there was a time when the things i wrote looked like ee or bukowski or william carlos williams

and then the motors started humming and not only was it all about the busblog but ppl started imitating

me

me!

but was i saying anything? was i telling the good news of the Lord? was i shining a light on LA in a different way than everyone else who has come here and lived?

before i croak theres a lot more secret stories that i feel uncomfortable telling even on this blog that i want to tell because they were important to me.

i always thought id start at 50 years old because thats when bukowski did it but sadly working for the xbi has made it so rough on my body i have no idea if i’ll make it to 50.

so i need to start writing those things down sooner than later or else who else will write them?

those are the things i worry about on a monday morning when the hot water heater is busted and i look forward to a cold shower on a summer day in 2015.

glad im alive and fixing to be super aware of errything.

no one ever thought that i’d have a cat

which is why i got two

yesterday was the day, boy

all weekend really. friday i picked up two black lesbian dominatrixes from their nail appointment in beverly hills.

we drove to south central and they told me about the femme-ey ones sugar daddy

and how he likes to wear her panties because its been so close to privates.

it was uber x and it was surging so i was making decent money and they wanted to stop off to get some money at a house

then go to the smoke shop then go home. all the way we were listening to power 106

talking about how we liked rihanna over beyonce, eminem over jay-z

these were my people. i was their man. but they didnt need no man.

only man they needed was the guy paying for the uber as we drove an hour across town.

then i met a mexican director who i picked up at the riot house.

he told me that leo dicaprio will win an oscar.

not this, but next, antonio.

everything i tried worked. the music sounded good. my hands didnt get sore.

i barely peed. and when i did i did it from an overpass in downtown.

freedom.

do you let people do coke in your car? the tougher looking black girl said.

i said, i was put reflect freedom.

she said, am i crazy to let my girl get with old rich white men?

i said, we are nobody’s. we are everybody’s.

uh huh!

seriously, im 100% into this ride. i dont want to be with anyone else.

but when we’re done, i’ll miss you, i’ll think about you and you.

but whoever’s next i’m with them, one hundred.

shouldnt i be?

but then yesterday. oh man, yesterday.

i liked to be out there at 8am on saturdays. airport runs. but i slept in. i was turrred.

my body’s all confused from drinking then not drinking coke.

i was on a strict one can a day diet. but then i read all this nonsense about

just how bad it is to drink even one can of coke a week!

so i got out there at 11am and i was rolling.

i had only made $175 all week and i really wanted closer to $400 because i was about to buy my tickets to chicago in september

and i wanted to fly Virgin and not Spirit.

for some reason i decided to go downtown since i had such fun there on friday.

soon as i get there i get a ping from a hotel and its a nice couple from santa fe springs

who want to go to the Grove.

they were having a cute staycation in the big city.

they wanted to do all the things they never did when they were in college here.

but the best ride was also the one where i got the lowest rating.

some guy ordered a porn star hooker to come down to this beach resort an hour away

she was wearing this see thru number, looked amazing.

she texted the whole time and made a few phone calls. it was from them that i deduced her profession.

we barely talked which is sad because i was super curious about her and i had picked up another porn star on her block about a year ago.

do they own the whole block?

pretty much the only thing we talked about in any depth was which way to go.

waze was telling me to take La Cienega through Inglewood

but the way she was dress, and the fact i knew the Phish show was about to let out, thus heavy traffic

plus i knew the 10 to the 405 would be way faster, made me ask

hey do you mind if i take the freeway?

she said she didnt care.

naturally when we approached the fancy resort she got a text from the dude who ordered her

and me

that i had “taken the long way”.

after checking my last rides, sure enough, i got 7 5-star reviews, 1 4-star (you cant win em all), and 1 1-star

i guess that was the guy who was mad that his smoking hot hooker pornstar

cost him $118 just for the ride.

and chose to take it out on my ratings.

an hour from hollywood to rancho pv on a saturday night is “the long way”?

it was Only an hour and i even pulled over at a gas station to buy her a pack of gum

because she didnt have her ATM card on her.

she had very little on her.

after i dropped her off i figured what the heck maybe someone is trying to get out of this gorgeous sea side resort

and boom, a mom, her son, and his girlfriend had just spent all day there at a wedding

so we uber x’ed it a half hour away and i made another $10

used that money on jack in the box and took the 110 back to DTLA for one more ride.

got lucky by taking some sweet kids from the Nokia, sorry, the Microsoft Theatre to Sunset Junction

aka right by my house.

the Lord was looking out for me, thats for sure.

and i ended the week with $450.

so i bought the tickets.

i had lunch yesterday with the glamorous heidi who used to do sales for the la times and metromix. we talked about the good and bad things regarding our favorite local paper and how sad it was that so many of the mistakes would have been so easy to overcome.

many were rooted in the fundamentals: lack of honest communication, trust, and courage.

politics plays a big role, which is also sad. and makes me think that all of these things should be taught in high school because they will follow you anywhere you work.

then she talked about how guys dont want to settle down, and focused on the word settle, which is something i never considered before. the negative of that word means you are deciding to spend the rest of your life with someone who isnt your top choice. but the positive is like what a house does: roots itself into a stronger foundation.

i dont think anyone should do the negative thing. people should remain optimistic. only be with others who you click with in regards to romantic relationships. there are waaaay too many good souls out there, why sell out for ppl who dont give you butterflies? why commit to those who you’re just going to bicker with forever?

life is so short, the options are so plentiful, history tells us so much. the stats show how many marriages end in divorce. havent we learned that thats because so many of us get hitched for the wrong reasons?

never settle when talking about long term commitments.

my long time blog buddy keira-anne is in town with her new husband and it’s so nice to see that because she held out for the right man for her, she ended up with a solid dude. a fire fighter, a canadian, and a gentleman. it can happen. it Does happen. but it can only happen if you allow the options to make its way to you.

quiet company plays today in silver lake. they’ll make you believe in greatness.

why westwood is screwed

in order to rest my arms and wrists i only ubered once yesterday, but it was a good one.

picked up this real estate guy in beverly hills and we drove to hollywood and talked LA real estate, specifically westwood nearly all the way.

he lives in westwood so he had a personal stake in my question which was: how on Earth could somewhere like the Westwood Village be surrounded by so much affluence and yet struggle in the commercial district?

he said it has been a perfect storm of two things

there was a driveby shooting infront of a dance club 25 years ago and the neighbors overreacted and imposed all these rules on businesses in westwood that disallowed live music, pool tables, dancing, and pretty much anything that would attract

a certain element

from coming into the village and repeating the thing that happened a generation ago.

the other thing was he said one family owns 90 percent of the commercial real estate up and down westwood blvd in the village. and that family does not care one bit if there are vacancies. it’s all a tax write off and meanwhile they can charge exorbitant rents and some will pay but others will say forget it and go somewhere else.

he also said that todays UCLA student studies waaaay more than the students in the 80s and therefore they dont care that theres no dance clubs or bars or anything other than Pho, Diddy Reese, and In n Out. they made it into their top school and theyre gonna graduate in four years.

and those greek kids who Do like to party will just take an Uber to Hollywood and dance over there.

thus Westwood is screwed, probably forever, and will never return as the center of fun in LA for young people.

the end.

why every child should learn how to play an instrument

[embedded content]

it doesnt matter which one.

it doesnt matter if the child doesnt want to learn.

once they learn, their moment will come, and when it does they will say

omg YES THIS IS WHAT I PRACTICED FOR!

and it will be good.

my feature with John August is up on Oscars.org

when im not instagramming, tumbling and snapchatting, im writing on our site.

it’s a fun job but sometimes it can be Super fun.

the funnest thing i’ve gotten to do in a while is interview the prolific John August who has written lots of cool movies like Go, both Charlies Angels, and grip of Tim Burton films including Frankenweenie.

i work with an incredible team that made the feature ridiculously interactive and beautiful.

Click here to see it and click all the things that you can because it’s great and i couldnt be prouder.

when you start wearing blue and brown and working for the clampdown

you can tell when im selling out when i wear brown things.

took the night off, which is boring, but i was illin

i like to work. i like to be moving. i like to meet people and help people and learn.

when i was in college i had three jobs. when i moved to frisco i had three jobs.

during LAist, the Times, and KPCC i had just one job but i spent all night working on those blogs because i was learning. (i also was freelancing with the xbi on occasion if they begged)

now i only have two jobs. which is fine. im older. i need to learn how to relax. which is tough. because when i relax i fall asleep.

so last night as you know my hands and back were hurting so i went out to the pool and put casablanca on the tv and just watched the moon and bogey do their thing.

i felt like i was retired. i feel asleep outside. i barely touched my food. it didnt feel right. i like to be out there. whats the use of being in LA if youre not gonna be out there?

if youre not gonna be out there why not just move to oregon where the land is cheap(er) and the homes are bigger and you can grow weed legally?

but this morning my hands and my back feel better and im rested and the cats were happy to see me and jeanine was happy i was around and alls well.

i do plan on seeing my doctor though because i feel like im too young for arthritis and i would hate to think that im actually hurting myself driving a freaking car.

as if!

i am hurt, i am hurting, but it’s ok

my fingers, my wrists, even my back is all

notice us, notice us, notice us.

i put icy hot on my hands and arms, i have these great elastic sleeves i put on my arms

but i lost one because im a slob.

so i just alternate the one back and forth like a hobo.

it only hurts when i drive which is sad because as you know i love driving.

maybe i need a back support dealie. maybe i need under armour. maybe i need new arms.

my cigarette lighter doesnt work any more. youd think the cigarette lighter in a mercedes would never break. its the thing that charges my cell phone as im driving.

gas prices here in LA are at record highs.

basically the entire universe is telling me not to drive but who’s going to be keira-anne’s tour guide.

i can tour guide for tops three days a year and then i get burned out.

on paper i could write the most amazing tour book about LA but not only dont i want to but it would be bizarre, filled mostly with various fast food establishments

places to buy bukowski books

and every movie theater and former record store in town.

fine, i’ll write it.

it was hot and rainy so i saw three movies

Ant-Man, Irrational Man, and Trainwreck

Ant-Man was a surprisingly funny Marvel super hero film that stars Paul Rudd as an unlikely leader among ants.

Crazy premise co-starring Michael Douglas and Evangeline Lily of Lost.

I liked it more than the typical Marvel movies because this one had a sense of humor along with it’s typical shoot em up action.

Irrational Man was sort of a disappointment because it is Woody Allen’s latest starring Joaquin Phoenix, my girlfriend Emma Stone and my other girlfriend Parker Posey. sooooo much talent on the screen and yet Woody mailed this one in. so sad.

in a way it’s a reverse murder mystery which is sorta interesting on paper but we play the game between the lines.

It would have been more interesting if Joaquin’s character had a little depth, if he changed a little, and if Emma Stone’s character would have been a little less predictable. Parker, weirdly, had a lot more to work with.

Also the music was lacking. I think I heard the same little jazz riff five times. I thought you loved jazz, Woody.

Trainwreck was the best of the three. Amy Schumer wrote and starred in this film that was directed by Judd Apatow. Perfect combination. Co-stars Lebron James, Bill Hader and a long list of former SNL regulars.

Very funny, very raunchy. But the climatic scene had many of us thinking the same thing Bill Hader’s character says “you dont have to do this.”

Why Apatow and Schumer thought it was necessary to put such a tired Act 3 in a movie that broke down so many stereotypes is confusing and disappointing.

But whatever, it was a movie starring a female who isn’t defined by falling in love with a successful, basically perfect man.

Oh wait.

you wanna make me laugh? tell me what i can do on the busblog

true story: today someone auditioned to be the editor of this blog.

they were all: you stop writing about me this instant!

i was like: OMG LOL ROFL

this blog has been around for centuries. maybe longer. ive done everything possible with this thing

except one: let someone else decide shit on this thing.

my mom, the person i love the most in life, she has notes about the world famous

she tells them to me all the time “you seem too sad” “why do you swear so much?” “will you please stop writing about the xbi?” “was that really the best photo you could have used?”

ET CET ER UGH

and i listen to her say the words but i tell her ma i put nothing in here is true for you. you and you only. now its for you and you mostly. and i love her and i want her to be proud of me but no way can she be the executive editor of this.

so imagine when someone who is not my mother today not just asked but demanded that i do or not do something in this semi holy text? JUST IMAGINE!

dear person: you are ill. you are not thinking right. you know what you need to do and you wont do it.

it is not kill yourself. it is not act a fool. it is not avoid.

it is go to the place where they cure what you have and get it cured.

here are three things that you should not say to yourself about why you cant be cured

1. bullshit about time

2. malarkey about money

3. anything about me

a year ago almost to this day we saw young jeanine whine and bitch and scream and freak out and the two things she went on and on about were regarding to time and money

the lamest excuses the devil could ever put in our mouths.

and we did not listen to her. why? because she was being a crazy person who didnt really have a job and didnt really have a place to live and the world would be better and she would be better if she just did the right thing and jump into rehab.

well you, would-be busblog editor, are in the same boat. thats not a real job for someone your age and for sure thats not a real place to live.

which are not insults meant to hurt, those are observations from the world laser beamed to your heart via the busblog, purveyor of truth disguised as delicious poetry.

where you are is not where you think you are. you are in a very bad place and you are having a spotlight shined on it and boo hoo too bad, so what, now what

go to the place to get cured.

and fuck everyone in your life who is not saying the same.

they are not doing you justice.

crazy thing is, i moved to LA, in part to be a surfer

[embedded content]

so glad the water was too cold to ever take that dream seriously

the cats were all, hey why are there bars on the windows

i was like, those arent bars, those are Freedom Frames.

jeanine is staying with me now for a little while.

the place she was subletting mysteriously had a problem with subleasing once the main tenant reneged on the deal. will jeanine get the balance of her rent back? probably not.

when people are on the spiral down, and know the correct decision is rehab, often those people refuse to take the correct route until things have completely fallen apart.

as long as other people are paying your rent, it’s tough to completely fall apart.

thats one of the lessons i learned the last time jeanine was crashing on my couch.

now almost exactly a year later, she is fully recovered, working, vibrant, alive, coherent, and sparkling new.

it’s a joy to have her back here. the cats feel the same way.

huge shoutout to the Clare foundation, the state federal government for subsidizing programs like theirs, and Bill the founder AA.

are you tired of these uber stories yet?

too bad.

yesterday i did two rides after work and hit my goal and went home.

the first were this lovely couple in a rich part of town.

because the gas prices are so high a lot of uber drivers arent driving and i dont blame them. it cost me $57 to fill up yesterday and i wasnt even on E when i got gas (i usually fill up at 1/4 E because of earthquakes).

and because there are fewer ubers on the road it was surging. and when it surges, uber plus drivers take the bait and take uber x calls. i was almost one of those drivers when i got pinged by these nice rich people who had brought an expensive bottle of wine to enjoy with their meal.

we got on the 10 and fought traffic to get to DTLA to a fancy restaurant. but first we had to traverse through skid row which was interesting to them, but not delightful. how could it be?

it took 35 minutes to go 12 miles. not bad considering it was rush hour. Uber charged them $48, I got about $33, xtx.

i like being downtown at 7-8pm because theres still business people down there. the surge was way over and i drove down 6th to figueroa and got nothing so i looked on my passenger app and saw there were no uber plus cars by the bonneventure hotel and boom there was a parking spot so i got in there, turned off the car and checked my email.

before i was able to make it through all the fan mail i got beeped by a businessman at the standard.

picked him up, he was going to the airport.

as always i said, “is the jazz ok or would you like something else?”

he was a very serious guy so i was a bit shocked when he said, “jazz sucks”.

ahahaha i laughed. well youre the boss, i said, what would you like to hear.

we listened to heavy metal and talked football.

just shows to go ya, you can never assume anything in this world.

dropped him off for his red eye, called jeanine to see what she was up to as i drove through south central back home. satisfied.

i had a great day driving yesterday – what a relief

my work had a summer picnic, an anual affair, i even won a pair of expensive sunglasses at the raffle.

filled up with bbq, ice cream, and pop i hit the road a little earlier than normal and the gods were with me

almost every ride i took led to another ride.

not super long ones, except one to LAX with someone who wouldnt reveal who they were, but he loved the jazz i was playing so that was nice.

usually people will open up to me right away and i learn where they are from, what they do, their social security numbers, etc.

others are either very very private or very involved with their phones and offer up little info.

the latter are very rare. out of ten rides, eight will tell me everything. the number is higher with uber x.

one young lady yesterday totally loved me and i loved her right back. infact if i wasnt on such a roll i would have gone hiking with her as she lived right next to runyon and had never gone there (!) she was new in town from NYC and ran into some bad luck with flakey roommates and flakier so-called bffs.

she came here with her friends but then they bailed on her leaving her on her own in a city she knew little about.

22. adorable. a few tattoos. i picked her up at whole foods – something most drivers would never do because it almost always guarantees a short ride back to their house to drop off their groceries. but i got lucky, she wanted to run a few errands and didnt have a car, so she ordered uber plus? a mercedes? what?

one of the stops was to go to this deli because they had this special milk. i think it was persian milk. she had a little exotic flavor to her.

sometimes strangers can just click and she and i clicked and even though she was a sorta femme fatale on one hand (no friends, no job, no schooling) she was also shopping at expensive places and buying weird things. anyways usually id offer my phone number, but im a million years old. ive had enough of the 22 year olds. no matter how smart they are.

and funny.

and pretty.

enjoy LA on your own, just like i did. no one saved me. i came here alone. went to ucsb alone. ended up ok.

you can too.

an argument for copy and pasting from other sites on the web

when i was at the LAT there were some people who would get very uptight if blogs or other websites would copy and paste our copyrighted content and put it on their sites.

but as i briefly went through this post about Tsar’s second album, Band, Girls, Money, which came out 10 years ago this week, I noticed that hardly any of the links worked any more.

which made me glad that i copy and pasted the rave reviews from a decade ago because they wouldnt exist any more.

if publishers are going to continue to be irresponsible about preserving their work, why should bloggers and others link to them assuming the content will be up there forever?

the odds are that blogs, not professional sites, will have the content up longer. and isnt the point of all of this to honor the work?

with that said, if anyone wants to copy and paste any of my genius in the busblog, go for it. i cant predict what will happen ten years from now. even though this blog has been up since 2001, there have been times when some of it has fallen off the server because of previous CMS issues and hosting problems.

so what a better way to keep the messages and ideas alive than to have some sort of redundancy.

because, after all, what Billboard, the LA Weekly and other outlets thought about Tsar 10 years ago DOES matter and our children’s children should know about it even if i get hit by a bus and this domain lapses into (greater) obscurity.

with that said, holy crap, BAND GIRLS MONEY IS 10 YEARS OLD?!?!?! MAMA MIA!

i remember being very excited that Tsar had decided that their self titled debut, while being lovely, was a little soft due to the production and the fact that Disney wanted to see if the hard rock band would become more popular if they mellowed it all out a smidge.

the followup, B-G-M, was the opposite of soft. it was balls to the wall rock music. even the lyrics had edge. it was the dual guitar attack that we all saw in the small clubs from Spaceland to Hell’s Gate and there it was on wax, er, plastic. and it was beautiful.

while the debut was baby blue with clouds, this one was BLACK (with a hint of pink as a nod to their glam influences). BUT IT WAS BLACK. and funny and fast and rocking.

this is the record i play the most when i play Tsar and I can’t believe it’s a decade old.

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no matter what you do in life

someone is gonna poop all over it.

so do this: never use the internet,

never care,

know that Jesus loves you.

know that your mom loves you.

know that thats all that matters.

the one thing i want in the world? easy. hillary vs trump.

the last time donald trump was majorly involved in politics i was got to cover it for the biggest political blog at the la times, top of the ticket.

i was blogging alongside andrew malcolm, which was a treat, but andy wrote from home so i didnt see him very often. he had a small office that over looked grand park, which didn’t look as grand as it does now,

but it was a view.

a cozy little airconditioned office with a view.

since andy worked from home, he allowed me to work there, so as i looked out at feral cats being fed by kind old women

i got to read and then write about trump claiming the president of the united states wasn’t american.

pretty much the funnest and funniest thing to write about.

trump represents all of the dreamy schoolkid fantasies about capitalism and the american dream.

the biggest being if you work super hard you’ll become super rich and be able to do whatever the hell you want to

the truth is you can always do whatever you want to.

me, i just want television to be better

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i had a girlfriend who hated me

maybe more. but her definately.

she would write me notes telling me she loved me but she was also a huge liar.

i could tell she hated me because she never complimented me. not even when we talked dirty.

usually when you talk dirty the girl will say stuff like omg get that monster out of your pants. kiss my neck. i love it when you kiss my neck.

she wasnt like that. she was all, keep your shirt on. are you seriously proud of that gut?

she once called me skinny fat because she said i looked skinny when i had clothes on but then fat when i was naked. i laughed.

when we had sex it was magical and as good as the best sex either of had ever had and that made her mad because she wanted to hate that part of me too but she couldnt.

it wasnt that i was doing anything differently with her than with all the other thousands of runway models who i’ve known

but sometimes two bodies just fit.

the question though is, is that enough?

i ask because ive also had girlfriends who truly loved me. who gave me gifts and smooches and played with my chest hair and told me never to change.

the devil would try to convince me that these women were boring and i should boot them out of my presence immediately, because they were insane, obvs.

and sometimes i would.

i’d feel bad but not really because how could i love someone who loved me so strongly, moreso than i even loved myself? and deep down what was there really to love except a marvelous collection of baseball cards, old strings of christmas lights and playboy magazines?

and thats how i met your mother.

30 years ago today i became a U2 fan after watching this on tv

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and singing along

and crying tears of joy

amy is terrific.

i love movies, my favorite movies are music documentaries.

this year we have already seen one kurt cobain doc and another on the way.

kurt is probably my all time favorite dead rock star and even though montage of heck was good, “amy” is great.

one of the big differences is amy winehouse was being photographed and videotaped constantly through her whole ascent to superstardom

which is ironic because it is clear that she had zero interest in being famous.

kurt could pretend that fame wasnt of primary interest to him, but he did want it, he flirted with it and eventually signed with a huge label and made music videos and did all the things to be famous.

amy was different. she sang jazz. how you gonna be famous singing jazz? even punk rockers have their day now and then but jazz singers – in the 21st century? ha!

but there she was. in the spotlight. in love. always in love. and then in trouble. so much trouble.

i loved this movie because it made us fall for her in ways i never did when she was alive.

id seen her at sxsw and was not impressed. i watched her on tv now and then and was interested in her persona and her struggle. but i never really understood her story nor her music until last night at the academy screening of her new biopic.

this was a talented girl who, like many geniuses, had zero awareness to real life.

one of the funniest moments was when she was being filmed during a grammy ceremony and she heard the list of nominees and the title of their albums was shocked that justin timberlake’s was called “what goes around comes around”.

amy winehouse really knew that little about pop music? and she had that much disdain? despite being in the center of it?

it reminded me of Weezer’s “El Scorcho” where Rivers sings “I asked you to go to the Green Day concert / You said you never heard of them / (how cool is that?) / How cool is that? So I went to your room and read your diary.”

Amy is the video diary of the rise and fall of the best jazz singer of the new century.

and how love and fame and drugs and booze and the inability of parents and friends and even a record label cant stop imminent destruction.

it’s so weird to me that this story gets repeated so often in rock music and nothing can be done.

theres no guru? theres no rehab facility that works? theres no system? we just have to resign ourselves to the fact that the hangers on want to make money so they will keep pushing the stars onto the stage until they literally die?

i cried, sass cried, everyone cried. then they clapped at the end, then they clapped again. painfully good movie that hopefully influences some people.

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and they say theres no chicks at comicon

i took a day off from ubering yesterday. probably first saturday i didnt drive since forever.

i did do one ride.

i got up late, headed to beverly hills, picked up three girls in bikini tops,

but they were just going to a friends pool party.

minimum fare: $10.

they wanted to use the Aux cord, which i dont have in my benzo. the ride couldnta been more than five minutes.

you really cant just listen to the radio for five minutes?

driving is an emotional thing. when it’s slow it’s depressing. when there are no surges: even worse.

when it’s busy you’re motivated, you want to go all night. remember when i would go all night?

now i just dick around in my little spots and if someone else is there i leave.

it will take an hour to get a ride. i should just stay put for an hour but im impatient.

i’ll walk around george michael park across from the beverly hills hotel and get my steps in.

but sometimes its too hot and i’ll build up a little sweat, which isnt good for a driver, so i’ll stop.

cant win!

then somehow gas prices soared by a buck almost over night.

obama how is this possible?

how can they take forever to sink but if you blink they’re higher than they have been in years? all of them. at the same time?

they all get their gas from exactly the same guy? OBAMA ISNT THIS COLLUSION?

i love my benz but i miss my ford. that car sipped gas. it scoffed at stations. it had pick up. i could talk to it.

it would remember the bands i liked and alert me if one of them was playing on a station i wasnt listening to.

hell yeah it had an aux jack, and a spot for a memory card for even more music.

but damn it got dirty easy. and it didnt look cool. and it would be very difficult these days to make $100 on a ride in that thing.

tradeoffs. who needs em.

ive been getting involved in internet sports gambling. way easier on the constitution.

happy birthday Evelyn!

this woman was one years old the last time the Cubs won the world series.

today is xTx’s birthday, she’s my hero

xTx does everything i wish i could do. she does all the things i preach – but don’t do. wont do. cant do.

she writes creatively from her heart. she keeps it real. she writes about

omg

sex!

she uses curse words. lets her mind flow. not only goes into the dark crevices of her gray matter but explores in there. sets up a base camp. hangs out. eats dehydrated meals in there. maps out the particularly odd spots.

she names the places that she loves after greek poets. she is not afraid to delve deeper, set off explosions and then research how the rocks fell and the birds flew away and how the dust settled.

she writes under an assumed name (her Christian name is TxT). she plays with herself and tape records it and plays it backwards and adds a beat and horns and cowbells and sends it to The Weeknd who then remixes it.

xTx shows other bloggers that not only can you kick ass on blogspot but you can turn that into books and speaking engagements and magazine spots and soon to be major motion pictures starring her stink finger.

she is more of a man than i ever will be. she is more courageous than that guy who took the balloon to the edge of the stratosphere and then jumped.

why?

because xTx has no parachute. just a fake name. thats all. and fake stories.

but we all have fake stories.

so why dont we tell them? why are we so afraid when we all have the parachute of nothing in here is true?

because we lack the one thing that xTx has in spades

the desire to get it all out there.

and i love her for that.

and you do too.

embrace your inner Peggy

God I miss Mad Men

the clippers are in houston to convince their center to stay.

These are the Tweets the stars of the team made today to show how they’re getting there

✈️

— Chandler Parsons (@ChandlerParsons) July 8, 2015

🍌🚤

— Chris Paul (@CP3) July 8, 2015

🚙

— JJ Redick (@JJRedick) July 8, 2015

✈️🚁🚙

— Blake Griffin (@blakegriffin32) July 8, 2015

The team thought it was a done deal that D’Andre was going to move to Dallas

But today news came out that there still is a day left until he is allowed to move.

SO THE CLIPS ARE DOING ALL THE RIGHT THINGS TO KEEP HIM

do you know i love you? i do.

every now and then she’ll text me something hot to remind me she’s still thinking of me but she’s so far away why even bother.

maybe if i was a hundred years younger. or taller. or more millionairish.

they can just fly people around on jet planes and fly back in time for work.

the hard part about this part of my life is this is when things started going great for bukowski.

what the hell am i supposed to do with that information.

which ironically is what i wanted to text back at chica, but then i thought shes being nice, shhhhh.

the cubs swept the cardinals today. there was a bank error in my favor.

and i nearly died in a car crash when this lady from a strip mall to my right cut across my lane to merge with the traffic in the lane to the left to me.

this truck nearly hit her which woulda pushed her right into me.

crushing my just now developing brain and pretty face.

but he didn’t. he just honked. so when i got home

even though she may as well be on the international space station

i texted back, lookin good bb

which is code for

save me

hurry

the president was asked if last week was his best week ever

you know he wanted to say “fucked around and got a triple double”