Spooky Thoughts.

I might buy a small DVD camera for the trip.

For crying out loud, thats just inviting trouble.

Yes, yes it IS.


Lets all say "aloha" to Mr. Drain & his son "Clog"

Before you meet them 2, this little charmer kept me busy while wating for my MIL on my first virgin trip to Vegas. It has a Deuces Wild Poker game, with some disembodied hands dealing to you. Real funny shit. If you wait too long, the hands rap their knuckles on the felt, or crack them, depending on how long you take. .25 cents a hand, I spent a bunch of time watching my MIL lose $$$ while I kept coining up!

First I had to go here ^

To get one of these ^

Because Mr. Drain and his son Clog were visiting my humble hale -'HA-LEI' (home). I did not invite these 2 clowns. That is because there is more than enough clownage in my home as it is. I guess Mr Drain was pissed because memebers of the troops were depositing grease into his already clogged arteries. Mr Drain doesnt take care of himself, so Doofus Man (that would be - Me) is in charge of cleaning his tubes. Doofus man generally does this in 3 month intervals, but Doofus is a busy go-fer. So Doofus Man forgot, and combined with Team Grease, Mr. Drain invited Clog over to spend some quality time together.

And thats not even the best part.

I got off duty this morning late, since the on-coming crew were, well, LATE. So I trapse along the road to home, figuring -"Hey!, It is a good day for a surf!" Alas, that thought will have to wait for another day. Like, TOMORROW. Anywhoseafats, I get my arse home, greetings from the Mai-Mai, and proceed to take pictures of Mr. Roof. Nice guy, hope he hangs around for another 30 years or so. Lady C has just completed a 16 hour ahift at her job, and is asleep. Maile wants to go to Costco, and I need to finish cleaning the remaining dust and crap from the arrival of Mr. Roof. So i complete that part of the mornng, after many cups of our pal, Kona, as in Kona Coffee. Maile and I hit the road to the Mega-store that Costco is. Always the pain in the ass, Maile digs out as soon as the door opens. I realize that I need to make an appointment for Lady C & Aunty R to use a Spa certifcate that i got for them at Xmas. (being the wonderful son-of-gun that I am, of course) I call the Spa, set the time for Monday, AM. In the mean time, Lady C has arisen, and at the same time, Maile is calling me also in my cell. (Can we all say multi-tasking? I knew ya could)I let the Lady of my world know of my Spa thingy, and she says no can do, got a appointment to meet with some whosafut or another, can you make it for Tuesday? Back on the phone to the Spa, change the time, all is good. Finish the shopping, go home just in time to meet Mr.Drain & Clog arriving.

Getting the drain snake that I have, I try to remove old Junior Clog. He aint budging. So I call Hawaiian Rent-All to get one the motorized ones that they rent. Can do. Hustle my (now sewage smelling) ass to them, rent it, and back to the Clogmeister. Clear the clog, but I have to replace the cap that was mangled to get to Clogster. Run down to City Mill (my nemisis in home improvement, as they NEVER have what I need) to purchase a cap. Of course, they have none in the size I need. I boogie to Ace Hardware, and ask the kid working if they have 21/4" clean-out caps. Sure! Right here. I will take 2, just in case I break 1, I am set already! (always thinking ahead, dontcha know) Rush back home to replace cap.

Of course - The cap they sold me was 2 and ONE HALF, NOT 2 and ONE QUARTER.

I gave up, took my shower, and now I am happily awaiting the sure to be reaming from the Hotel De Hellish.

And yesterday they told me Mr. Sulu was gay.

I always thought he was bonking Uhuru, myself.


Welcome to the family Mr. Roof.

The new arrival has landed. A brand spanking new roof for the home.

Bring on the rain for its first test run.

Looks like that'll be Halloween.

4 days till vacation.

I am so STOKED.

Going surf!



1/2 Way There

Well the roof got half done, truly, a little more than half. I am on duty tomorrow, so the end will be then.


Puts a dent in the ol' vegas funds, but my roof wont leak.

Thank God.

Finished artwork laters.

Have a righteous weekend, peoples!

Aloha ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Its Out with the Old....

Hooo boy, Its a long hot , dusty day......



Altho' I am ready to go apeshit @ the Hotel....

....My new roof goes on tomorrow....

I am soooooo stoked~!

Do not mention TOURISTS!!!!!


People ARE Morons!


Anyway ~~~~~~ Aloha!

Doing My Part For The Tourist Industry

Click Da Link For fare specials to Alohaland.

Just doing my part for our #1 industry - where I am off to in a moment after last nights cluster screw, I am amazed I didnt pull a (hack, cough, phlooooey) sick day. Better judgement aside, off to hana (work) I go. Waiting for pau hana time (finished work)

I may have an appointment. (winking at ya 'Zilla, winking at ya!)

BTW - I met Lady C @ 13, we have been married for....1, 6. ... eleventy three...23 years now.

1 true love for 33 of 'em.

Where in the heck is she anyways?


For Da Shack (daa west coast cozy one)

The one that I did save is still with me not this pix, but framed, and in a place of honor, right by the surf.....



Avery Brewing Company / 5 Summer Stories

Adam Avery is the brewmaster at Avery Brewing.

But first, some history about why a Colorado beer is here, even 'tho it isnt available anywhere in Hawaii.

I was working at Hotel De Riguer De Hellish one night when a great old-time Filipino waiter by the name of Roque came by with a large bottle of Hogs Heaven.

"Meester Mark - I pound dis beer in dee check out room, meebe ewe like to take 'em home? Eeet git nice kine picchure on da bottle"

Shoots , Roque, I am never one not to try a new beer. What the heck? I never even heard of it before.

So I take the bottle home. Now i kinda forget about it, on the last shelf of the fridge. But a day comes where I am off, working in the yard, and day turns to night, and I am still plowing the north 40, (the back yard) And, By Jiminy, I have a worked up thirst!

Enter Hogs Heaven, chilled to a respectable 38 degrees, no froze, ICE cold happiness.

It is a barley wine, a beer of 9% alcohol. Potent, strong stuff. 1 quart later, I ma on the internet trying to locate where this elixir comes from.

Longish story sorta shorter - i email Adam, turns out he adventures all over the planet, doing all kines of sport, one being Surfing. So i say if you are ever in the area, give me a heads up, and I will take you for a surf, damn the work! Couple months into summer (hence the 5 summer stories pix) He emails that he is coming to town and if we can hook up for a surf. Sure!

We meet up, go surf, talk story. After a nice fun session (read - smallish) we head seperate ways.

I get a 'care package' from him later with a selection of his wares, beer glasses, and T shirt.

I actually met someone of the 'net, and they were not insane! Very nice people actually.

Never know, I guess.

Still cant get his damn great beer here.


Yesterday made 33 years to the day that I met you.

Yes indeed. 33 years ago, yesterday. Weekend party at Charley Paet's house. No one ever them would think that we would be together. Much less those at our wedding day. You know it must be the jerk in me that just loves to prove people wrong.

Me Ke Aloha Pumehana, my love.

I thank you with all my heart, soul and being - for allowing me to be your knight in shining armour.

(that and then generalized mayhem you cause by changing your fricking mind!!!!!)

Best wishes! (inside joke, long story)




Thingage. you know, things that resemble what you are talking about. WTF? No, really.

The girl from the other days call.

She died.

And I had to read her obituary today.

And that sucks.

Its really hard to explain how it feels to be part of someones last exsistence here.

I can question myself, or I can question the actions of another.

But somehow, I feel responsible for the actions of my fellow man.

It feels like a cop-out to blame someone else.

The harsh reality of my job is - you must deal with it. That nugget in the grain of my mind that says what if? Is a demanding bastard.

Go hug someone.


Comes In A Can , Now....

Found this photo on another blog out there in cyber-space, I was bored for a moment, and then the crushing reality of working with morons at Hotel De Hell raised its ugly head from below the slime and said "Dont forget, we are here 24/7, Mark!!!!"

Tourista overloada on da brainah.......

I am getting a can of this for housekeeping.

Certain guests rooms may be involved.

I may not come back.

I keeeeeed, I keeeed, ................almost


Leaving Las Vegas, Hawaiian Style

Shopping is a major event for Lady C. Believe it or not, I really dont mind. The only conflict that we have is that I, of course, KNOW exactly what I am looking for, where to purchase it, and how quickly I can complete the task. This reasonably, is due to the fact of "I got no mo' nuff time fo' surf!!" So time is my premium. Matter of factly, when I die, I am having Lady C call death, 'cause for sure I will live a long time more, she takes sooooo long.

Now that I have ventured sufficiently off-track, the meat, if you would.

Las Vegas has a array of outlets, that (I guess) have prices much cheaper than everything In Alohaland. I never argue this point. Reason is, I will lose that discussion. In reality, I have yet to see ANYTHING that is really that much cheaper than deals at home. (except for shoes, but being that I believe it is a SIN to wear them, cost matters nada to me) Lady C feels that valuable gambling and Heineken consumption time are to be used in a shopping fashion, is a discussion I will lose, so, no question , we go. Back to our differences in shopping. Like I related, I go for the quick kill. Lady C draws it out like a Masatadon Hunt. Hours, Eons, Centuries draw by. I kill time by mosying around reeking havoc with the sales people. Good havoc. See, I am on vacation, thereby, I have nothing but happiness in my heart. 345 days of friggin work a year messes with yer mind, dontcha know.

And you can never have MORE fun than being male in a Victorias Secret shop, on vacation. Lady sales crews in a large store not knowing that my better half is shopping for Bras an aisle away, have NO idea what they are in for upon approach. But I do. No malice, but fun. No rude behavoir, but, like I said, fun. "Do you have these in a Green Apple color?", -or- "These are exactly...What?" Granted, the ladies are helpful, kind and professional. Not to mention, stunning. My havoc here over, I ask the skipper shopper, if I may browse the arena to which I am banished. Assuring her that I will not seek out adult beverages, I skulk out of the best smelling place in the world.

Onward! Perusing the crowd, I watch oldsters with young 'uns, tourists, gang members, really well-dressed folk, (something formal about shopping on the mainland, I guess) a virtual cornicpoia of humanity. I relish it. Wander here and there. Pick up some goofy stuff for the Maile-girl, and assorted crappola for her brothers. Seemingly HOURS later, we meet up, and I carry the motherlode to the car.

Back to the Casino time!

On the drive there, Lady C decides that she hasnt seen the Primm Outlets. So as we pull up to the valet, she asks the man where/how/directions, Etc. Lady C, one who never backs off a challenge, decides to solo it on her own. "Are you SURE?" I ask. "Yeah. I can handle, the valet spelled it all out" OK. Call me, if anything.

A few hours later.


Me - "Hey, kiddo whats up?"

Lady C - "The sign says I am on my way to CALIFORNIA, MMMMAAAARRRKKK!"

Me - (stifiling a laugh, yet concerned, as I am not SURE where the hell she is) OK, calm down, it is alright, where are you? And are you headed North, South, East or West?, And what freeway are you on?!"

Long tale short, she went too far, got turned around more than once, and 10 cell calls and an hour or two later, she is back in my arms.

Blaming me, of course.

All in good fun, 'tho

She aint getting outta my sight this time.


The glitter gulch photo / 20X odds for the odd guy pix

The in(famous) Lady C glitter gulch pix. To this day, I never thought when I said "flash me, sweety!!!" That she actually would. We didnt get arrested on this trip, either.

Lady (godiva) C didnt even know the big sign was behind her when this was snapped, not the cameras fault, I blame Mr. Heineken and his friends for the pix quality.

After a great run at The Cal on the craps table, Ol' doofus brain managed to have a run of bad luck-ola, prompting the Blackjack Queen herself to state - "20X odds, your odds are 20 times as bad...I'll hold the money!!!"

Not that I didnt agree, but being that I was the one being her personal ATM (hey! just like at home!) It seemed only fair that she shame me with this pix.

In honor of 'Zillas 'wife tricks post'

There is a definte reason I love this woman - she gives me stuff to cook and eat!

Mr. Heineken Arrives

Please help the poor man to his room.....

It Better Stay In Vegas

What Does A Cherry Mean?
Win Coinage...
Get Married...
First You Gotta Get There....


Trippin' On Da Strip Tale Vol. 2

The next foray into the land of sin produced a adventure of wanton sex, alcohol consumption, and dice mayhem. Got your attention with the wanton sex, eh?

Lady C, Aunty R, and me the heathen, were to trip over the big puddle to lala land. This was for 1 of Lady C 's & Aunty R's co-workers wedding. Off we goes. Flight is un-eventfull, even tho' this is the first time Lady C and I are flying anywhere together.

Oh, did I mention that Lady C is scared shitless of flying? It takes me 3 days to prepare her to fly inter-island. That is a 30 minute flight. See, the woman I love can ride a Harley, go fishing for Mahi-Mahi on a boat on her own, drop a volkswagon engine (seriously), go nuts on a jet-ski, but is scared of the flying part. I think it is because she really wants to fly the damn thing. The pre-trip is a mix of positive reinforcement, good hugs, and well, for me...Beer. Aunty R is the next best thing for her since Valium, as she is the voice of calm. Rock solid. We get on board, and I, knowing the drill w/ C, knows the first thing the flower of mind will do is ...seriously hassle the flight crew, albeit in a very nice way. Constant questions, all from the Captain - "is he good, do you know if he flies alot?" To - "is the flight rough today? hows the weather? Do you fly alot?"... You get the picture, yeah? Nervous energy abounds. All in a good way, but if I was an attendant, I would lose it, even if she is sooo damn nice about it.

The crew on our flight, were, absolute dreams. They were the BEST.

They babied her, checked in on her, watched over her, and in general, amde my exsistence being there, useless. Cool. More beer for me.

Lady C amps out so much that by 1/3 of the flight, she is in a coma. Outto-finouto. Dreamer. So me and Mr. Heineken get acquainted, and catch a movie. And 5 hours later, Las Vegas! We get to the Cal, and we are out to the Fremont Street, beers in hand. Lady C has never been there, so me, being the well experienced traveller, and Vegas pro, rehashes the previous trip w/ her Mom, and AV.

Lady C immediately goes to the slots.


And Mr. Heineken and I, start our journey into mischief. Aunty R joins Lady C on a Wheel Of Fortune machine, and plunk in the coinage. It is off to the craps tables for Mr. H and I. Now, the last trip, I noticed that the crew at the craps tables were having the most fun of anyone in the casino. All the yelling, hi-fives, and cheers were a draw for sure. But I had no idea of WTF was the deal. So before I attacked the coffers of LV this time, I decide to read up on the game, and ask the world renown expert on Vegas - read:Lady C's Uncle Billy - about the game. Uncle Billy knows Vegas, and goes quite a bit, he is also a retired Firefighter. This, of course, means I must study with him, meaning....Beer! Uncle B gives me the skinny on the game, and I figure the point of the game is....Win! Actually, the point of the game is not to throw the dreaded "7" , and make your 'point'. Statistically, you will throw more sevens, and the House (the ever evil Casino)has the advantage. But - If you can throw the dice, with some 'deftness' you can take one seven outta the equation. Now, I know you math majors out there are poo-poo ing it, but I relagate the following tale -

There are 'X' numbers of ways to make the "7". That's what odds are calculated upon. A 'random' roller - one who grabs the dice, and heaves them down the table, should throw a seven 'X' number of times. Certain sects of craps players beleve that if you 'control' or 'set' the dice, you have less chances of making the dreaded '7' appear. I happen to think that this is true. The reason is, when I first tried craps, I threw it hog wild down the table. All the time I was there, a small, older gent was setting the dice, and throwing with much care, and softly. His rolls went on for a longer period of time, hence, making him, and those bettors with him, more $. So being the arse hole that I am, I had to see what I could learn. The internet is a great resource. There are a gazillion ways, theories and beliefs on the subject, so just like my own religious beliefs, I pick and choose what I like, and mold my own guide.

Cutting to the chase - I started throwing the 'bones' in a set, lightly, and with as much control over them as I could. This resulted in much better outcomes for meself. Debate can rage over what is truly occuring, but , eh, I figure it works for me, and until it doesnt, I am HAVING FUN.

We will get back to the dice/craps portion of this novel soon enough.

So the crew of 3 land in LV, get our rooms, and see the sights. Beverages abound, and at the start of day 2, I get the rent-a-car, and requsite coffee first thing in the AM. This was the mornng of the Lady C bra & panties in the hallway episode I related in a earlier post. The only plans were to see the sights of the strip, and relax, before the next days wedding. Shopping, gambling, sightseeing. Enjoyable, and since I walk at a pace of 10X faster than Lady C & Aunty R, I see everything, well, twice. Something I need to learn - walk slower. Walking idiocyncrisies aside, we have a fun-filled, casino hopping day. Food and beverages consumed, the day turns to night, and the ladies want to go down the strip to see the lights/sights. Since I have been having a good run-o-luck at the craps pit, I digress to the 2 young hens to adventure on their own. They grab the car, and head southbound on the Strip.

Viva Las Vegas, and why they dont put clocks in Casino's.

The night wears on, and I get a cold streak, so I exit to wander the area. Many sights and dives later, (as well as....Mr Heineken's) I find it late, and I buzzed. Call the gals on the cell, no answer. I figure they are busy, or unreachable in a casino. Midnight, 1AM, 2AM, 3AM, still no connect. Worried? A little. But figure no need to. So I figure, shower, and call agian, probably will hook up after. Washed and dried, I try to call again. 4AM. No luck. Hummm? I made the mistake of lying down, BOOM! Out like a light. I wake at 645, to no Lady C in bed! Arggggh. Call the cell.

Lady C - "Hi! (excitedly) Whats up? We are at the Ceasars Palace...And..."

Me- " Do you have any idea what time it is?...are you OK?"

Lady C - "No, why? Is it late?"

Me- "Try look at your watch"

Lady C- "Oh its like 345, I didnt realize..."

Me - " Uh, Cathy, Its 645, not 345, your watch is on Hawaii time, babooze"

Lady C - " Oh shit, it is?!"

Main thing they are safe, but I had to laugh on these 2 Vegas Virgins wheeling and dealing in the Neon space that this place is. More funny, they are winning!

So the start of day 3 gets off to a equally bizarre/strange way as does everyday in my life.

Getting married by Elvis, and waiting in line for pre-nuptuials with drunks-

The wedding party on day 3 was planning to join at The Little Wedding Chapel, and join in matrimony by the "king" I guess if I was on LSD, it would seem normal, but straight, it was/is still a scene of strangeness unequalled in my life. Then combine that with a line to wed, with half the waiting parties 3 sheets to the wind, well you can imagine, the scenarios are equal parts strange/funny/hallucinogenic. The deed done, we proceed to the 'party bus' for a tour of LV, and adult beverages, I take a ton of blurry pix, all of which, look like shit. Just call me 'Mr. Japanese-Tourist-Photographer-Man'

Nothing spectacular occurs, besides Lady C flashing me at the sign for 'Glitter Gulch - topless girls sign' ( a blurry pix of that memory exsists ) And we head home 4 days 3 nights later, exhausted and ready for return to the real world.

Trip to the Strip # 3, now there is a tale of wonder -

Just call it- "The sign says I am headed to California, Maaaaarrrrkkkkkk....."

Dear God, she really drives me nuts.....



Pre-Vacation "S'Trip" Tale...Vol. 1

Being that the L'vacation is 14 days away, I figure a good tale from the first virgin trip is in order. Hope you enjoy the tale.

2000. Memorial Day weekend. My mother-in-law (MIL) was planning on a trip to Las Vegas (LV), and my eldest son (K) was still enrolled at my and my dads almamater (SLH). The football team was playing a pre-season game in LV, and my MIL was going to go, along with meeting up with her sister-in-law (SIL). Up until this point in my life, I had never been to LV. Oh sure, I had heard the tales told, and wondered what the scene was like, but never really wanted to go. I really have no interest in gambling, I have seen too many people at the Hotel Hell get their lives screwed owing money for football bets and the like. I love to out guess the odds makers on College ball, but I put no coin on my hunches. Maybe throw a $5 here and there, like once a season, to see if I can hit a parlay sheet for a quick win. Pick 8, and score $250 smackeroos. More amusing to see the looks on the constant bettors faces, when it works; ...eh, simple, limited, Fun. If it isnt fun, then you have a problem with gambling. That would be my standard, I guess.

Any who - So the MIL is getting herself planned up and ready to go, when for god knows what reason, she asks if I want to go with her. (remember now, at this point, Lady C and I havent been on a vacation since the dawn of time) Lady C says "Go. Please, this constant surf,surf, surf, and work, work, work, you deserve it..." In truth, it was more like I had the time, and she didnt, so I got the long straw. Our income in those days was pretty short, as we were paying for private school for K and his brother, The Bear. So gambling $, was going to be perhaps, around 300 shimoolians. Last second problems, curses of home stuffs, the budget dwindled to 200 pre-inflation dineros. Myself, having absolutely NO idea on what a bankroll was, figures, "hey I am Howard Hughes!" "200 big ones! More than my allowance for the month!" In other words, I figures I am good to go.

Be brave, oh beating hearts, reality check comes soon enough.

Backgroundish info - my MIL had been going quite often with my at this time recently deceased FIL, and they had tales of fun, walks, and shopping, along with the requisite deposits to Bank of LV. My MIL is a slot junkie, or was , anyway, as she is in a care home now. My FIL, was a slot junkie too. Me, I look at the things and think... "Fuck that!" I have kids that take money, I dont need a machine to vacuum it out. Ah, but that is now. Not on that first trip, 'tho. Unfortunately for me I had listened to the tales of wins from MIL, and thought, "wow, they just GIVE money to you, while giving you free beer, too!!!" Innocent dummy, I was.

So MIL and I get on the big airliner, and packed like sardines in coach, fly off to LV. At this time, it was my first trip off the rock since 1981. Of course, I got the seat in the middle. Making note of the hassle it was to get to and from that toture chamber, I planned to attack the back of the plane by harvesting beers with some others who didnt have premium seating. A couple of nice enough guys and i stood in the back, and gave the flight attendants a story for 'flight attendant rant. com'...Nah, we were well behaved, and quaffed many a brew for the betterment of mankind.

Not really that much, maybe a six pack for me. Over the 5 hour flight, not too much, really. So we land in LV, and MIL sprints for the exit, needing a smoke, as 5 hours without Carbon Monoxide is something she couldnt live without back then. At this point in time, I rarely smoked a cig. So watching her rush to the doors was entertaining in and of itself.

We get to the California Hotel And Casino (The Cal) in wonderful, wonderous, downtown LV. As we rode there, I was amazed at the strip. Lights, neon, and it was everywhere! Amazing. It was maybe 7PM, tops. We check in, and MIL is scratching at the door to gamble. Coins, bells, whining sirens, all the noises and sounds of the Casino were calling her. It is a pretty intoxicating sound I imagine, I just kinda get sensory overload, and tone it out. Becomes like a white noise, I guess.

MIL and I head down to meet Aunty Verna (AV) who via Oregon, was coming to join us. My MIL's SIL. We meet her and she says she has rented a car, and later we can go to see the son, K at the hotel the team is at. So MIL & AV take virgin boy, (me) to the big old Casino. "Here Mark, this is a slot machine, you put $ in it, they bring you free beer, and then you get money out"... Well, sorta. More like, take the $, flush it down the toilet, and wait for the drink to appear, that you really paid 100 bucks for. Truth in advertising? Not. But, the MIL and AV mean well, so off I goes armed with a 20. I figure, shit, I will be raking in the dough, in minutes. MIL and AV go off to their favorite machines, and I plunk down on a spot near the bar. (stupid, I am not) If I am paying 100 bucks-a-beer, it coming fast, baby!...Any how, I drops me 20 in the machine and figure, hell, in a hour, i will be in hog heaven money oozing out my pores.

Approximately 3 minutes later, the 20 vanished. What the heck? Add another 20, maybe they will become friends, and multiply in side the machine.

Maybe 2 minutes later, I figured the shit out. Stay the hell away from the slots.

Wandering around, I see MIL and AV pumping bills into the slots. I recall that my MIL ALWAYS comes back from LV, broke. ALWAYS. Ah ha! I says! I see why! God Bless her, but random number generators, odds, and mathematics mean nothing to her. So I wander the casino, checking the scene out. Nothing prepares you for the people watching in this town. i could come here for a week, and just wtch the comings and goings. Really. So MIL pumping away, and AV pumping away, I bide my time at a small machine for quarters, playing dueces wild, having a really very good time. A couple sits next to me, from California, retired, and we chat it up. Cool as hell folk, we chit and chatter about life, and stuff. The mans wife hits the machine for a grand. Neat. Exciting. A few - maybe more than a few - beers later, I wander back to find MIL and AV. they have buckets of coins. They are happy as clams. I am well, buzzed. Not drunk, buzzing. Happy Happy Joy Joy.

So MIL and AV want to go down to the strip where my son K is staying. AV doesnt want to drive, so they decide I will. Fine with me. I dont condone drinking and driving, but I was OK. Not really OK being that #1, I hadnt driven on the mainland in 19+ years, but I had NO FRICKING IDEA where I was going. Being that I like challenges, WTF? Keep those hotels on that side going down, and on the other side going back, should work, right?


As luck would have it I made it to and from, all with only scaring the living shit outta MIL and AV by going into the ghetto area of downtown, pulling up at a gas station, and actually asking a crackwhore for directions. I have no predjudice, believe me. I AM naive, that is for sure. 'cause i definitely didnt notice the thugs all around the area, either. She actually gave me great directions for a crackwhore, too. Really. All for a buck. Which I had on the dash, for god knows why. Better than a 20, i guess. The machine will vacuum that.

So we are back at The Cal, and MIL and AV go back to pumping bucks, and I well, wander somemore.

Whats that ? Ah! Blackjack! I can count to 21! Ha! 2 dollar table! Uncles and Aunties sitting with adult beverages, I am sooooo there! I sat down at around midnight. I started with 20.

After the umpteenth Heineken, I actually LOOKED at my watch and saw it was 6AM. Lord I am drunk. Very. Not fall down, but whooo whee I am a might MORE than buzzzol'd. I know I have a room somewhere. Thats right! MIL, AV and me! So off I go to hunker down with my winnings. 6 hours of play and I went up to 200, down to 10, and walked, well, stumbled slightly, with 95 smackeroos. Cost so far for the day - around even. A little on the plus side.

So i slope along up to the room, and MIL and AV are just getting up as I arrive, looking well, drunk. They have a good laugh, and tell me to join 'em for breakfast. Nah. Shower, sleep.

I wake a few hours later, to go hunt down the ladies. MIL is sitting pouting. Not good. AV is clanging away with the coins. I split, saying I am going out to walk around. Being that I am actually wearing shoes, (a sin) I figure what the hell, I am trudging all over, keep my coin count high!

Long story short, I walk all the way to the strip form downtown. Ouch. I drink in the hot sun. Ouch. I walk all the way back to downtown. Ouch, ouch, oweeeeee. Tired, I hunt down the gals and find them both at the spot I left them, 8 hours earlier. MIL is cursing her luck, and AV is happily counting the wins. Needless to say, MIL is ...bitter. She is losing hand over fist.

Quit, yeah? Not MIL. Chase that falling piano, baby! God love her, but no common sense. You are burning thru money, TAKE A BREAK! Nope. Pump it all in, and worse, watch your SIL; KA-CHING!!!! Win even more than you are losing.

So I watch this carnage for awhile, and after a few hours of adult-like beverages (read: Heinekens) I figure, maybe its time to mosy around.

I do mosying around well. I find people and places that really are off the wall.

So I meet the girls of glitter gulch.

Lady C's Uncle told me - "Hey boy! - go to fremont street, and pull all the free pulls, you never know!!!!!" Nothing better than free money! So iget a cardeck here, a mug there, and then, from outta nowhere, comes....Glitter Gulch. The hawker proclaims that I got a free spin coming, and being a naive moron, i dont put 2+2 together and see the train wreck that GG is. Of course I win, but to get your prize, you wander thru a amazing array of slots, sluts, and drunks. I get to the desk, and they hand me like, 20 bucks in coins to play at the slots there. OK. Free money. Now find me a bucket, and I will cash out the 20 , and leave. Nope. No buckets. I see the theory here - of course, pre-beer, I always see the theory.

Any how, a friendly lady on the machines above, strikes up a conversation and seems to be more than intrested in me. Me no stupid, me no likeee. But she really is just doing her job, and is friendly, and not rude. She tells me that if you hit the jackpot when the sirens wail, you get 3X the mount. Cool. I doubt that it will happen, but WTF, I am still sober enough to figure that I stand no chance of winning squat in this dive, (thanks again, Uncle Billy!) Lo and behold, I hit a jackpot for 200 bucks! OK. Now I am outta here. No buckets, I am putting the stash in my shirt, cashing out, Now. The lady above me, says people usually tip, so i toss her a handfull of coins. She was kind enough to say Thanks.

So I take the win, in my shirt, to cash-out cage.

At the cash-out cage is the most intoxicated person I have ever seen in my life.

And it is the Cashier.

Basically 20 minutes later, I leave with over 190 bucks of win.

Back to The Cal, and MIL is funk-afied, She is broke. Really. Day 2 of 4, and she is tapped. I give her the 190, and she tries to refuse, but i kinda noticed she already had the foot out the door.

Son has his game on day 3, so I cruise, win alittle watch MIL and AV lose their collective asses, and watch MIL funk -up even more. My bankroll is still at 200. MIL is given another 100, and off she goes. AV plunks down some coin, and as usual, wins.

I spent most of the last 2 days playing what ever I could, to see the sights, and wander into all kinds of dives.

I came home with 50 bucks, and MIL in tow, with absolutely Zilch.

She said she had fun.

I did.

And that my friends, is how this whole visits to LV started.

Who knows what mischief awaits this time?


Stay safe!


For My Next Act

Next Act - i will attempt to turn this mess into a shower stall that has two heads, with tile and ladies stand for leg shaving, ass resting, and genralized mayhem. Thanks to Lady C's cousin, (the evil contractor, Curt) I found that the 10K my MIL spent for him to make this bathroom probably went to Crack Coke, or something like it. The evil contractor Curt never even put water board behind the half - ass tile job that he did. Lady C and I kept wondering why the ledge for the step up to the shower, as well as the pan for the bottom, kept making a "squoooshing" sound. Ah, the fun of having in-laws.

I gots ideas, 'tho!!!!!!


-addendum- Got a good as hell surf in this morning, too.


Taro Patch

Japanese tourists have this thing for T-shirts, that for some reason, carry slogans that make absolutely NO fricking sense. The problem with these, is that they distract the shit outta me. They are so off the wall - -

"Super Sexy Dog Bone"

Or, they are just so bizzare -

"Big Time Trojan Wearer"

Some just flat out make NO sense -

" I am Amusement Happy"

There is a shop that caters to this freak show called -

88 Tees

The shop carries - nothing but T shirts with the slogan - "88 Tees"

Besides the often big time strange quotes, some have statements that, well, YOU guess.

"Kickstomper freedom makers"

"Cracker - makes a soup"

"Save the Sunshine happy makers, want to free?"

"Winky doo"

Some are rhinestone studded, some are plain, some have color combo's that would do the national Phillipines fashion bureau proud.

I almost run these guys over sometimes, on the way to her pinkness. Reading and digesting 'em. I gotta get photos of this stuff.


Alarm Bureau last night -

Had a call come in, via EMS 911, ... Back up first. The call taking computer I work on it blasts a alarrm sound that wakes the dead. You answer the thing by hitting the space bar or using the mouse. You see where the call came from (cell, home, EMS, HPD, whatever) and are connected immediately. The EMS dispatchers have the caller on the line while they ask us for a co-response. We get the address, and send the troops. The hard part is, the callers are on the line, if inept, scared or emotional, we aear the exchange between the EMS and the caller. you can dis-connect. I listen, as I enter the info for the dispatch. Multi-tasking at its finest.

Any who - There are the cardiac's, the difficulty breathings, the diabetic coma's, what have you. you hear such desperation, frustration or horror in the caller voices. Some are makers for long nights.

2145 last night, I take a call from EMS, the address pops up, the name, number, other meaningless information. The EMS voice, disembodied, yet familiar, and calm as hell, says - "Fire?, Co-response, address on the screen... Hanging"... All I say is "on our way"

I didnt disconnect. EMS goes on to say -

"Is she breathing?"

Caller (boarder line hysterical) - " No!...she is ...Oh God!...Come please! No!...No!"

EMS (calm) - "Mam, stay with me on the line, is she on the floor?"

Caller - (noises, cries, various sounds of woe) " Yes,.....she.. is on the floor"....." Oh please, No some...come...Dean? No...Oh God (wails, cries)...."

EMS (calm) - "Does anyone know CPR?"

Caller - (pulling every ounce of strength to relate in a calm tone) - "Yes....my son... he is a City and County lifegaurd, he is doing it now"

EMS (relieved, calm) - "Great, How old is she?...How long since she was last seen?"

Caller - "She is 16, I dont know.....maybe..."

I had to cut, I had to. Knowing that a 16 year old was trying to take her own life was about as big a downer as they come. But the thought that stayed in my mind was why would you? I tried to make sense of it, but there is none. I wondered about the Lifeguard brother, who would be trying to rescue his own family member, her Mom, right there, trying to come to grips with the importance of the phone call she was making. I felt so sorry, but in the back of my mind I wondered if she knew how many people she affected by her action?

Do any of us really know how much we influence the days of others?

I tried to smile a little more often today, I dont know if it worked, I hope so.


Demon Sink,My biggest 'fan', Gotta put slippers on and get to work.

Demon sink that refused to cooperate, and the palm tree tiles that were a 'discussion' by me and the ever-wise Lady C. At $4.00 a pop, I hated 'em. She loved 'em. Now that it is pau, (finished) I love 'em. I got her back on the closet handles, 'tho. .....


Continued view from the Lanai

L to R And around the corner....

Surf #2 And Maimai (R) & Friend..brats

Surf ! (all is good in the world)

Upstairs Renovation

Tile Designs & Stuffs

Take Your Shoes Off And Stay Awhile


Vacation Dreams

Count down to vacation time - 19 Days - (dreams? or....nightmares?) ......


Life as we know it. (or NO it)

So. Not sew, the verb.

Just how do you rectify that which is stupid?

Huh? Stupid is how stupid does.

I be stupid.


World Transendental Frustrateamites.

No true word, I sure you all know 'dat.

No. Good word. Takes care of all positive aspirations, eh?

Good son #2 came by the Hale (home) today. Nothing like a ray of sun(son)shine to make the dark clouds of bullshit go away.

Work tomorrow, oh yes, more fun for 24 hours.

Called a mental health day today for pinky.

Beers at Kona Brewing sure do taste good. Well, 2 did. And Maile to P/U after dance class.

Winter is here. BS posers- put the boards away- time to step up to the plate, real surf is here for a few months.



Sand In The Shorts (or leave the surfwax out in the sun, on your car)

Baby sitting adults.

In this lot of a so called life, I have the annointment of baby sitter to adults. Fo' real. It seems to follow me all over. From the irritating as hell need to instruct waithelp (over and over and over adinfiniteum) on how it is there responsibility to check the signature, check that a room number is there, etc....I repeat this propaganda at least 25 times a night in this pink hell hole. That, as well as, listening to semi-literate immigrants complain how "fricking oostralians" stiffed them (again)...combined with the Japanese touristas that cant see the kanji stating 15% NOT included (maybe should be incRuded?) I gots my head as far up my arse right now as I can.

Now, I figure a responsible, able adult should KNOW what a responsibility is. Oh no, dear friends, that is MY job. I dont mind dissecting the chicken scratch that the drunken visitors leave, but after hearing the constant complaints on stiffing, under tipping, complainers, ya da ya da ya da, I have come to a conclusion -

Maybe you are not that great of a waiter, fool. It is a distinct possibilty.

Then you get the wonder of wonders, people who call 911, and when the first word out of their mouth is "its not an emergency"..... I mean, seriously folks, WHAT ROCK WERE YOU UNDER? For crying, (almost, seriously) out loud! No explanation for it. None. Nada. Zero.

It is 911. Emergency line. The call screeners ASK you if it is an emergency.

How do these people survive? Spoon feedings? Sponge baths? Diaper changes?

Ack. Ackitty, ack.

Then I have the wonder of all, my eldest, comboed with his GF, and her daughter. Now a disagreement, sure, they happen. Mixed messages, OK. Eldest is working. Point for you, bro. GF is not. Daughter is coming around, being 4, moving, etc., understandable glitches in that machine.

I do not run a hotel. I may work at one, but I do not run one.

So for me to expect that things should run smoothly while I am working, I find not real outta line, capish? So bruddah gets his moods, and acts up, deal with it. Ok, I can. The GF cant. So I gotta play - - - BABY SITTER TO ADULTS. I am not a lawyer, but for god knows what reason, I am supposed to mitagate this problem. (like I have the time to sit down, hash out my own beefs with them, but nooooooooo, I gotta deal theirs first)

So instruct bruddah to get his shitski together, and talk to the GF, and work things out. (because #1, they want me to pay for the GF car to come over, and help them out till they get 'on their feet') Uh, yeah, try FIND your feet first....but that in and of itself is too much brain warp overload.

Bottom line is, she is going back to Cali, which, I, for some reason, am being blamed for by Lady C.

Uh, hello?

Someone check for brain activity in my home, please?

The test pattern seems to be stuck, and the TV is only catching snow.

Loose wires?

I am so done with baby sitting of Adults.

Last one out, turn off the lights, please.


Times 2.


Did I mention I was a might perturbed?


Hope it doesnt show.


What gets Old....

You know what gets old really, really fast?

Baby sitting stupid adults.


I swear by god, morons.

Surf, and then some ...more please

"If all the if's, ands, and buts were candies and nuts, we all would have a Merry Christmas" - Andreas Martinez, from the book 24/7

Surfed at a spot that hasnt seen me in awhile. Went off the richter scale, being very aggressive in the water. Not bad-kine aggressive, good kine, in a surfers way. No crowd. Empty. Only me. Not bragging, but I surfed very, very well. Of course, no one else out, I had the pick of the litter.

Tired, burnt-ola body. At Pinky's Palace for the Friday Night Buffet/Trough feeding. Busy , busy.

Have a terrific weekend, world.



Dawn for Bud and The Boys...secret spot

Bastards! (click the link for dawn patrol goodies)



Missed a surf. Tomorrow I will atone for this sin. Mymy was hurt, playing volleyball, so Dr. we go. All good, just a sprain.

FireCom yesterday - Actually did a kids homework on the line. No shit. He calls asking about the Makiki area - so I figure it is fire safety week related. Nope. He wants to know where the shelters are in the area. OK. I do the best I can, telling him the logical locations for them. Then he goes on to ask about demographics for the area, home prices, and what are the races of the residents in the area. Huh? You gotta love public schools, thats all i can think of. Freshman, at the areas public high. He tells me his teacher told him to call us to help him with the homework. Nice enough lad, just....Huh?

A skateboarder went down on Kaimuki & 11th ave. My old first in area with Station 5. There was always this young kid, maybe 15, who skated all over the place. always saw him in the morning, cruising. Going to school, via the simplest vehicle possible. The EMS guys call, and I call my beloved Station 5, to give 'em the heads up before we even dispatched them; we all knew this kid, I hoped it wasnt him, cause he is a good kid. EMS tells me that he has masssive head injuries, and that he is bleeding from the ears. Not good. He is also not moving. Not good, too. The Ladder guys get there, and no radio chatter, not good, again. They take around 1 hour at the scene, then go to Queen's hospital to pick up a firefighter. Very much, ...not good. We usually only assist with transport when life is critcally in danger. Because I surf, and skated, and knowing this kid, albeit vicariuosly abit standoff, I have a hard time with it. I have fractured my skull in 3 places from skating, and lost my memory, once.

Things dont look good for him. This, my friends; sucks. i dont know what to say, but a part is really sad, a part is feeling out-of-synch. Like I wish I was there, just a I wish I would be able to be around my Maile, when she was hurt. The demands, the responsiblities, they seem small and foolish compared to the need to help. I really hate working so much right now.

So before work I go to Barnes & Nobles to grab something to read, as a tonic for the mind. There is this guy, standing in front of where I have parked my arse, going through, say, 10 books at once. Smelly. Disheveled. Talking to the walls. One eye on the book i am perusing, and all attention on this gent. I read for an hour, and he was in an area 5' by 5' in front of me the whole time. How do you keep readin 10 books, going back and forth between them constantly, and stand on one leg (most of the time) for that whole hour? Now i am just about pau (finished) with the reading, and getting ready to go, and he quickly puts back all the books, and states to no one in particular - " nothing worth reading" And bolts out. There, by the grace of God, go I.

Another day in paradise, another wonder for my mind.


(waves permitting, of course)

Stay stoked.

I will.




IF You are looking for a link to AINOKEA STUFF - go to the main page - there is a link on the right hand side for the stuff..............

A L O H A ! ! ! ! ! !

The problem is, I do care.

There are a bunch of these stickers on cars around town. I guess the prevailing attitude is "me first", "screw you", " I no care"...get it? Ai-no-kea?

I dont know, it just irks me.

Musings from the sands of my ground-up mind - Ever notice how few people hold doors open for each other, now? And if you do, some look at you as if you are a demented freak. So my mission today, be as there was small kine surf, was to really see how many times I could get a reaction from people doing stuff for 'em. Gas station - paid to pump, and on the way back to the car, looked like Aunty was having a problem with the gas cap. First thing, ask if she needs a hand - "why, yes, thank you, I cant get the bloody thing off" Any woman who uses the term 'bloody' is alright with me. She probably downs a few good beers, too. So get the stubborn bugger off, and good karma task 1 is over.
So I go to Costco. Now, this behemoth of of a store always gobbles up my coin. Today, I figure, buy what I need, and outta there. I mean the carts are so damn big, that half the time, I am running people over for a 90,000 pack of TP. Go figure. Anywho, the place is actually very quiet, (Mr. I-forgot-its-a-Tuesday) and I meander around. Down one of the paths is Gramma. She has grandkids in tow, and a cart full of stuff. Now I spy her going to pick up a double carton of clorox, weighing in at about twice her own weight. I just go over and put it in for her, as she was distracted by one of the little ones shreiks. "why, Thank You". #2 karma good time done.

I am feeling pretty good about meself, right about now, Thank You.....

La do da do dey, meander over to Longs Drugs to pick up some stuffs that are on sale. Expressline for items 9 or less. lady in front of the line asks to use a phone, the cashiers says no. OK, I tell her "Aunty, who you like call?" "Here, use my cell"... After small conversation of HOW to use the thing, she makes her call, and the cashier screws up the other person in line charge card, backing up the line more, irritating the others in line.

Hey my job here is done, what other mischief can I create?

Picked up some trash, cleaned Lady C's Aunties car.

I will be looking for that silver lining soon.

All in all, people were pretty receptive to being nice to 'em. Now if I can just get that through my head when I am at work, life will be all good.

Gotta kill time somehow, when I cant surf.

Be good to each other.



Couple times a day...

" A hundred times a day I remind myself that my inner and outer life depend on the labours of other men, living and dead, and that I must exert myself in order to give in the same measure as I have received" - - Albert Einstein

I just thought that was a really truism type spot of thought. From a fairly smart fellow.

Driving around the 'aina (land, island) today, doing the usual niele (nosy) peekings at the other drivers, I noticed some comedy. There in my rear view mirror, were 2 gents, maybe about 40 or 50 - ish, talking real animated. Stuck-ola at the stop light, not moving soon, I kept watching them. Hands flying, mouths yapping. The driver grabs a newspaper, and starts glancing through it. The passenger, oblivious to his reading, keeps on yakking away, facing away from him. Light changes, and off we go. They come up on my side, and pass. The driver is still reading, the passenger, still yakking. Except the passenger is driving. This brutal arrangement goes on for the next 2 miles or so, with me just waiting to see the result of this circus act. There is this one long, lazy curve on my way to jobbo #2, and it was coming up. Visions of a head-on were in my mind. I half thought of calling 911, but knowing how long HPD takes to respond to a cell callers complaint, I figured, no bother. Apparently, the driver found something interesting for the passenger to see, and decides to point it out. Now both of them are looking at some ad or article.

And the car is in the lane of on-coming traffic.

Nobody is headed towards them, (god protects fools, and drunks) so i blast the tinny horn on my carwheela, (my term for my truck) Mutt and Jeff yank the wheel, one from one side, and the other, fron the other side. Net result - wobble, but maintain straight ahead, canceling out each others moves to swerve. Over the curb, into a bush. They figured out the brakes.

So I stop, and go over as both tweedle dee & dumb are exiting. Just asked if they were alright, which they seemed to be; no blood, no foul. So driver says, --"did you honk?, cause thats why we crashed if you didnt honk, we wouldnt have had this happen" Followed by passenger from the black lagoons chirp of - "yeah, you caused it cause we were fine until you honked, i need to get a police officer....so..."

Now I tend to be a pretty 'elevated' personality when confronted by complete dooooofi. But a little old Mama-san was peeking around the corner from her house, so going completely bonkers on 2 of the most clueless humans born was a option I avoided. I guess mama-san had called the HPD, cause they were there in a moments notice.

In the words of Martha Stewart,... 'and thats a good thing'

'cause after the next few comments, I wasn't feeling the love, so to speak.

So moron 1 & moron 2 are yelping and squealing like the dweebs they are, to Officer Magarret. And I get to talk to Danno. So Danno is asking me what the heck happened, and I explain the scenario. So Magarret and Danno confrence, and come to the amazing conclusion that the facts are what they are, that team dooofi is fulla shit.

Not wishing 'em bad luck, but....

I hope the article was worth it.

Sometimes I swear THEY are out to get me.

I am going surfin, tomorrow sooner, if I could.



1 Guess where I am at now.....Pepto!...Bismol!!!

Water everywhere, none to surf....Doesn't that suck?

So,.....Wait.....lemme get....this....water...outta my ears. And this.....towel...unwrapped...from my head.....along with...waking up would be nice.....what the?......where on earth?......Oh damn, never mind......$*%@#....

Ok, now that that is over, maybe the empty space inside my noggin will fill with something besides 'air'....Back at the pinkness that is the Hotel De hostel de demantia. That fun notwithstanding, I got a whole hour of moi-moi (sleep) time in the Alarm Bureau last shift. Call the whine wagon, I know, shut the trap on the whining already, HM.

And that door is closed. We had a ton'o rain on the islands last night. Which means, for this surf-rat turned old fart, that the 911 lines decided to go lalapalooza on cue. Bizarness (is that even a friggin word?) ensues. Did all the dispatching on the radio from 630AM till Midnight-and-a half. That is always fun. I always try to throw a pidgin english slang in once in a while. Ah Yes! Professionalism at its finest! Slyly enter the pharse so the prying ears of the higher-ups dont have MORE to put in the ol' HM "permanent record". No one seemed to notice, so until the order to prostrate myself in front of the lords of enforcement, I, dear reader, reign.

So I get my hand slapped for "not treating the public in a professional manner" from the previous posts fun.

"FF2 M - you are found in violation of subsection B, of the code of conduct section #3.25746, of the HFFA memo of argeement, title 2.3, in conjunction with"......(you probably get the picture, yeah?) ....Which of course ends with - ......."on your permanent record, on file"

For crying out loud, I am 46 thousand years old, and that damn RECORD has been being held over my head for EVER! Isnt there a statue of limitations on that shit? How about an Ombudsman that I can file a complaint with?

"Uh, yes, I'd like to file a complaint,... seems like this dark entity of judgement...has been holding my free-swinging soul hosatge for like, FOREVER, with this psudeo-guilt trip called 'the permanent record' " "And I would like to take a hard-on, ...oops, long hard look at this file, myself"...."What do you mean it is classified?" .... "No, I dont have a warrant, ...no I dont have legal counsel,....I JUST WANT THE DAMN THING TO READ, so i can see what a screw-up the legions of those in control think i am!!!!!!"........

I can just see me in front of God & Saint Peter now.

G & SP - " well now, looks like you lived a good life, some minor infractions here and there"

HM - " why thank you, lord, and my St. Pete, you do look great in those Armani wings, I might add"

G & SP - " there is this ONE thing we noticed..."

HM - " anything, please, I would like to explain, if could..."

G & SP - " it seems this permanent record thing...."

HM - " .... Oh, THAT...., you know, they still dont have anyone down on earth that we can ask about that, you know...."

G & SP - " we have been meaning to look into that glitch, for like, forever, seems the facilities maintenance guys wont touch it..."

HM - "maybe I should just borrow and air-conditioner now..."

Nightmares, thats what I have. Nightmares.

Still smiling, tho'