Going to Oh-Seven

Small surf, and Maile is back.

Not job, Just adventure

Wishing everyone happy Oh-Seven. 2 zero- zero- 7. I'll be awake and on the radio for 24 hours tomorrow, so I am having a beer (or 6) and going to bed early w/ no pink hell at my feet. Of course, it all goes bonkers come da first. But thats OK. Gotta work and save moooola so can go Vegas in March.

Oh BTW, you are all invited, oh continent dwellers. Me, her, The Bear, the little her, and Aunty Rosie will be in Las Wages in March. From the 26 to April 1st.

I'll buy the first round.


.....and yes, Dear Zilla, I shall procure recipes-a-mondo. Fancy language and all dat!

More Aloha!


Chrissymas Foto's

Now that is over on to ohseven.

Kiddo in bucket

Dont throw da keiki out with da bathwater, Papa!!

Hawaiian Style Numbzit

Hawaiian style teething ring. Kaleo is gnawing on a piece of dried aku. Sundried/airdried fish, soaked in chili pepper water/shoyu. Little bit of sugar. And he loves his Poi!


Ever since Calvin & Hobbes, I call the kids presents "LOOT"

Xmas eve crew in da house

Tom (Kaimi's bro-in-law), Fob, (Akonis friend) Fob's chickadee, Michelle, Kiana, and assorted munchkins.

Maile went to the Big Island (kamuela) to see my Mom & Dad, and drive them nuts for 4 days. Hyper kid along with hyper grandma, not a good combination for my Dad.

OK now its off to work, and 24 tomorrow at Firecom.

Surf is on the horizon; but when is the only question.

'K den...

Aloha No!


Christmas Birthday Tale

When I was growing up, and no, I havent completed that journey yet, Momhawaiianmark did one year, have a birthday cake for Jesus.

Being that I was like 14 at the time, and a total self-centered asshole, I thought it was well, stupid.

Momhawaiianmark made a cake, and she can cook like no ones business. It was small, gorgeous, and chock-full-o love. Because thats how my Mom is. Shes like 4 foot tweleve, full of nitro, and goes like being nuclear powered. Mom believes very strongly in the very real belief that out there in never-never land lies things and ways that we dont quite catch on to. And all those things are generated from love. Love being what ever you want, Buddah, Elvis, Mohammed, or what floats your boat, going forward with the current.

Of course, being an asshole, I broke her heart when it came to sing the happy birthday tune with the cake she created to put tangible her belief in goodness.

I really, broke her heart.

In being stubborn; in being self centered; in being blinded by youths stupidity and rancor.

I broke the most loving lady in the worlds heart.

And to this day, I regret it. I regret not removing my selfishness, from being only me-oriented for that small miniscule warp of time.

It only took her tears, and one glance from my Dad, to realize that no apology, no act of contrition would un-do the hurt I did to her that day.

The thing it did do, was to make one asshole teen realize, albeit too late, that the world has beauty that you cant recognize in it.

That a love so great, so dear, so awesome; is attainable when we give away our Self.

And Mom, I love you so much.

Today I baked a cake.

Wishing you all out there on Christmas Eve a safe, warm, joyous day.


Hauoli La Hanau.


Kalikimaka howzits, and other assorted stuffs

'zero-six is almost pau. (finished) 'zero-seven is waiting to be rung in with a 24 hour shift (just like tomorrow) - and her highness the pinkish is packed to the pinkest rafters with merry makers and other assorted gremlins of merriment.

(its busy)

And The Lady C has finished shopping. As have I - cause I got her and Maimai *******, and ******, along with *******'S for both of them. Womens. What the hell would I do without them? Have a lot more ***** in my ******. Thats for sure. Then we got all the kids, and grandkids pau as well. Then My Mom and Dad, her Mom. And the guy next door.

I dont have a idea in heck where the whole friggin month has gone as well. But I did surf this morning again, left before dawn, saw a awesome sunrise from the water, and basically am jell-o now. Wheee. 6 hours of abuse at pink, and 0630 tomorrow! Whee!

So its all good.

Goodness abounds in the least sought moments in time.

Holding doors open.

Twinkling eyes.

Bastard tourists.

Warm hugs.

Soft breeze thru open windows (not availble in the mainland during winter months, SORRY!)


Aloha and best holidays!

Can I go home now?




"Make Aloha, Not War"

On a bumper sticker today. ^

Click the title for how my day at firecom ended this morning.

"Lost" cast members house burned down

Two kids

So i havent been wandering too far from the paycheck producers, and lack of internet wanderings and perusals has been near nil. I will try to stop on in an sit a spell if the damn pinkness doesnt cut my line again.

Its been whorish days of working, if not OT w/ firecom, or OT class w/ firecom. Then its just plain old hell at the pinkness. Its busy, but not bonkers kine busy. Just stickers in the feet kine irritating. My zenzen of zen calmness is not on all the time, so that makes mark a virtual veggie burger most of the waking hours. Then again, I aint much good asleep, either.

But I have gotten in good surf, and today marked as usual, a bring it back to center revelation; again. As with any sort of missed love, the abscence makes the water all that much more moist. And moist is always good.


OK, nuff double entendre for one day. Or double fudge. Whatevers. Of course its Christmas time, and all that yule tide greetings that started back in August are getting old. No get me wrong, I enjoy the hell outta da holidaze, but it always brings with it crowds, short patience, and mega-spending for things and material crappola that in the end, has nothing to do with the joy of spending time with those closest to you. And being that I hardly get to see her, it drags long nights on longer.

I thought this was about surf?

Oh, yeah, back on track. It is usual for this mind to divert somewhere way off track, and thats what happens. So the surf brought me back to center, let me see that if I didnt get it, I should be glad for what I did get. (meaning: even if the surf was mediocre, it was better than a kick in the 'nads)

But the surf was pretty good. And it refreshed my soul, and thats as good as it gets in the realm that is my life.

Ok then.

Aloha once more.

Today was similar

Try for more info later.

Aloha for now.



Good wishes from all of us in the middle of the sea.

Working OT, surfing, and Hotel Hell is hellish.



Dweeble; me.

After insisting on -"we are not getting a new bed". I of course, gave in.

Such the dweeb.


I dont even have time to sleep.



Xmas Choral Concert

Maile had a choral concert last night. There was a Kindergardener who was a riot.

Choral concert
This guy was a clown

Winds are howling, and gots to go work.

Good weekends out to you all.



Tanning, yeah, thats the ticket!

You can spin anything.

I thought this was hilarious, your opinion may vary.



Da Puka (the hole)

Lady C wants a new bed. Mind you, ours isnt much more than a couple miles old. And no, it aint like the thing gets wore out, ya perv's.

Now the reason for this is 'the hole'. See, it seems that her highness feels there is an indention in the mattress. Apparently, it is only visable to her, and only noticed by her. It seems that the hole bothers her. It gathers up everything in the vortex that it has become, and swooshes it down its blackness. Where exactly this hole is taking whatever it is that it is taking, (cause, hell I dont feel the damn thing)is known only by he regal-ness.

Just waking up
Urg. Go away!

Just a bunch of pix laying around for no apparent reason, that didnt get sucked in to the blackhole on my bed.

Ok. Back to 'the hole'.

Now, I havent actually seen, nor felt the hole. But by votes cast in my compound, it is there. I think it is actually a female conspiracy to get a new bed. 'Cause my idea of just rotating the mattress was met with wide eyed ... 'NO'. Which in a sense was good, because the design of the damn mattress makes it go only one way. Brilliant idea, oh sealy post-ur-pedic. Or whateva company made the damn thing. Really, I could sleep on a bloody rock for all I care. If I am tired, it is lights out. But where was my brain when i bought a damn mattress that only goes one way? DOH! I mean the crappy thing rotates, but cant flip it, which is what most normal beds can do when you want to even out the wear on them, right?

But not mine.

So in the end, I will have to go bed hunting. Which of course at this time of year really sucks, because it aint like I have enough free time anyway.

I came up with an alternative, 'tho.

My brillant plan was to take some sand, add some water, and make like a little lagoon in the said 'hole area'.

If looks could kill, I'd be pushing up daisies. Needless to say she didnt think that was to great a plan.

My ass fits nicely in 'the hole'.

Good night.




Kinda means 'fool' or foolish. Slang. As in : "Hey! You stay making like one babooze!"

So you kinda know where this is gonna go.


I had OT at Firecom, and regular 24 hour shift, plus the pinkishness hell that is jobbo #2. So after 36 hours at Firecom, and pink flamingos on my brain, my highness wants a new bed.


Why? And a well placed "What the fuck?" Got yours truly in that steamy bath that is hot water.

No biggee, but when push comes to shove, I get laid....out. Some point in time, I will garner a backbone. For now, its just WTF?

Progressing backwards, it has become my forte to be the taker of the calls to Firecom from the....less sane members of society. Why on earth they get me, who knows? Call it instant karma, or oatmeal, whatevers, I get the winners. Like the latest one -

Good afternoon, Firecom, Firefighter M*******, how may I help you?

- Well, I have a situation here, and it is not a emergency, but I have a question.

(I should have known right away, since she was already calling on the non-emergency number, that I was in deep shit.)

Yes Mam, what is your question?

- I am allergic and sensitive to everything, and I dont use the soap you use, I make my own sunscreen, and I have this tennant, and there is a flourescent light bulb that I found broken behind a couch, that has a powder out of it, and I need to know what that powder is, and is it Hazmat? and who will clean it up? It is radioactive, you know.

(dear god, why me?)

Um, Mam, the bulb is broken? The powder is not dangerous, but if you are sensitive to everything....( i get interrupted)

- I didnt say I was sensitive to everything, what is that powder?

Mam, off the top of my head, I am not sure. But I know that it isnt dangerous, but if you are as sensitive as you say you are, I would have someone else clean it up, and...(interrupted again)

- So you dont know what it is? I think I need to speak to Hazmat. It is radioactive stuff in there. It is 25 years old, that bulb.

(I mean What The Fuck? You date the damn thing?! - then I put 2 + 2 together, and realize she wants someone to clean the crap up for her, and doesnt want to hire someone to do it, if she is truly sooooooo sensitive)

If indeed you are so sensitive to chemicals, I would hire someone to clean it and...(again, interrupted)

- Look, lets get back to reality...

(Now I am irritated. So I interrupt her.)

Yes, Mam, how bout we do that? Lets return to reality.

- You dont know what that powder is? And it is radioactive. I want to speak to Hazmat.

Mam, there is nothing in that bulb that is radioactive, There is nothing in it to cause you harm. I wouldnt go snorting the powder, or licking the floor where it is. But in your case, I would hire someone to clean the situation up, and be done with it. Also Mam, the department does not clean up Hazardous Material incidents, we just mitigate them. A outside agency cleans up any and all Hazmat alarms.

( I now know she isnt paying one moments attention to me)

- I cant get someone to clean it up. Its radioactive powder. I want to speak to Hazmat. Connect me.

We dont connect you to them, but I will give you the number to the Captain.....It is 5**-****.

- Wait! I ...paper..is blowing. Dont....wait. (various noises of scrambling and paper shuffling)....Ok. 5 ....?

Is it windy?

- Yes, and I dont want the radioactive powder blowing around, that is why it needs to be cleaned up!

Did you think of - closing the window!!!???

- No. What is that number?


- And thats Hazmat?


- They will clean it up?


- Why not?


Because, Mam, it is not hazardous, and we dont do clean up.

- It is radioactive, you know.

Mam, is there anything else?

- I am allergic to radioactive stuff.

Yes, Mam.

- Make my own soap, you know. and my own sunscreen.

(are you drinking that shit????)


- So who is coming?

NO ONE. We dont do clean up of broken light bulbs that are not dangerous.

- It is radioactive.


When I get back on Thursday, I imagine the Hazmat Captain she talked to will want to know....WTF!

You all be good.

I am trying.

Radioactive; I am, ya know.





I hate to gloat.

And USC fans, sorry. But in general you are arrogant fucks. Your fans proved it immensely when you came here last time around.

Calling you arrogant fucks is being nice.

You whipped Hawaii's ass, yes indeed.

And yours got handed to you today.

By who?



College football is great.

Watching U S C lose; P R I C E L E S S!!!!!

Say Aloha! to your BCS championship!





It is amazing the thoughts that run through your head when entering a burning building. For all the immense candle power burning all around you, you cant see shit. It is in a world of light; dark. Very dark. Thinking of your loved ones isnt first an foremost. It is the person right next to, or beside you.

All around this world, it is the person next to you.

It is in caring about, and for others, that we are seperate from the mud on the ground.

Just thinking.

Keep the positive, (last letter alphabet).




3 days from Firecom, and worked all at the pink. 400 covers yesterday @ the luau.

A rainbow to start the day

It is truly amazing how something as simple as a smile or gesture of kindness can change you mindset. Finding the precise moment to unleash a grin. I often wonder when looking at someone with a permanently etched frown, what caused them so much grief to exact such a high price? Having ones face ground down to the point of your only expression is one of disgust, anger, or at its worst, hate. Not that yours truly is Mother Teresa, but locking in a smile to someone is a great tonic for the soul.

Sometimes it seems that a smile truly can be a rainbow on a overcast day.

Back to work.



Utopian Dreams of a Small Mind.

Me and The KJ

Pre-Vegas, and yes, I wore a damn fedora on the plane. And the whole first morning.

Drove around town fixing a flat tire, which meant finding the car, fixing the flat, only to have the car blow the timing chain, which meant that the car is pretty much gonzers. Dont have time to fix, so I will be loaning Eldest son my truck, so he can work, and get insurance, and help pay some rent. Which led to - missing a hike, but instead going to the beach, and taking KJ, Kiana, and Maimai. Leading to me dunking KJ in the ocean for the first time, spreading lotion all over his fatness' skin, sucking in the aroma of his newness, and pondering the wonder of the ocean, home, life, and the myriad of grains that make up the beach.

OK, run on sentences; rock.

In driving around, I ran into a homeless guy begging for coin at the intersection. I chose to ignore him, as my irritation level was at its peak, and that was being fueled by a certain 15 y/o female in the seat next to me. I muttered to myself, and cursed the fact that a light had to cause me trepidation on tis guys plight. Since the chasm that my brain is, is want of a guard, so that makes shit like this happen. Which in plain sanity laden speech means - 'I felt guilty ignoring him' So why? Well, glad you asked; the guy behind me dropped him a buck. So in the driving around, I ended up back in the left turn lane of the homeless guy again. So I grabbed a buck, and folded it up. And the sign he had before wishing happy holidays and God Bless, was now a sign for 50 cents for the Sunday paper. It costs 1.75 in the stands. Dilemma awaits. Is it a rip off? Did he steal the papers from the stand, and now trying to use it for profit of use towards getting high and or drunk? Or...is it to feed a family with no home, or way to provide shelter? Is he menatlly ill? Hell, Am I? And why is it that I only have 50 seconds to think of all this shit while waiting a a light on a muggy morning? Decisions, decisions. Or is it that he is actually a student, doing a research project, that he isnt even really homeless? Damn. What if he just needs a job? He didnt ask for one in the first sign, and if the second sign is true, he has one, albeit not great, selling papers, but it is a job.

Jesus, the lights turning green.

So I have another 5 seconds to decide.

My windows down, what is it? Why the big fucking deal about this? Why is it weighing so deep in my addled brain, that it is causing me heartburn?

What is the problem? Why the dilemma? Why the concern, either way? Just ignore him. Just ignore the quandry. Not like you aint got enough on your plate, bro! Just think of the snotty attitude that seats next to you, and the situation that arise from that! Fuck worrying about a buck! 15 y/o and female, you better think all thoughts out! You better choose wisely the words you convey by. You better mean the shit you feel.

Fucking light.

He isnt even looking.

There are a ton of homeless more, under the bridge, not far from here, a ton. At least a hundred or more.

Got a extra hundred?

In driving around, I found myself at a stop light,

and a man was asking for money,

he had a sign that said "happy holidays",

and "God Bless",

i ignored him the first pass; even being right next to his stright ahead gaze,

being further away, the second time, i wondered and weighed.

And I turned left.



Back In Line, Sir.

Annoyances aside, the start of the holidays (read: Holidaze) are a time where things just start out a bit slow, continue to gain old 'mo'; momentum, and blaze head-first, balls out into the new year.

Somehow that is not the most gorgeous of pictures, eh? Yet we forge on. Why? Like hell if i know.

Lady C & the demented one survived a week in Vegas w/ out killing each other, losing my sanity, or going home early to throttle my kiddo's hide. But it came close on that last bit. I guess when you are 15, the world is yours to mess with, and 'specially the Dad that is viewed as the spoiler. To put it mildly, Lady C has a ring tone that plays "Lean On Me"...I never want to hear that damn song again. The Maimai sure pulled every manipulation trick in the big book of "BS, Fairytales and Attitudes" to make this week together a real challenge.

Back in line to work, pink now, 24 tomorrow at Firecom.

Holidaze ahead, school year closing, and me oh my, I am gonna be working and surfing as much as my little brain can deal with.

KJ is prowling with abandon, climbing, sitting up, lurching, and being a general mayhem maker that we cant get enough of.

Now if I can just find my wife.....


Somemore sin foto's

What me worry?


Happy T Day, and Back from Sin

Mandalay Bay
Me & Him

Finally got back after a week in Sin-dom. Spent the first 3 at the Bellagio, and the last 4 at MSS.

Now to the fun.

The wife and I had planned a anniversary surprise for her, wait, I planned it. So that was a mistake right off the bat. She is a saint for loving a doofus like me; and me, well I am me.

Split the isles on the red eye to LV on the 13th. Landed 0630. Got a killer Charger form US rent a car for the week. Decided to try and see if a early C/I would be available at The Bellagio.

And now the theme of our time there; weirdness, starts.

Was set for a Spa Tower room, and planned on a 20 dollar trick, but WTF, I stashed a bunch of Macadamia nuts for bribes along the way. Got to The B at 1100, and waited to see. Got to the front desk and started the spiel. Got a room! Early! Allright! Heres some Macadamias for you , mam! No 20, and off to the races.

So lets check out the room.

Traded the Spa Tower for a main bldg, fountain view. Sweet for the sweet lady of mine. Room 14 something or other. OK. Up the fast as sheet elevators, and key the room ,on inside, and…

There is a fully dressed, passed out man in the King size bed.

Out cold.

And I am a Firefigther/EMT, and this guy was comatosed out cold. He didn’t hear us, sense us, or notice us.

So its back to the front desk.

Explain the situation, and this lady with a great sense of humor goes – “Well, welcome to the Bellagio!” I wondered if I had to pay double for him for The Lady C.

The staff of the B are killer. We were treated like the only people there, I swear. Real impressed. Now this was a treat, so don’t be thought’in that I am some high roller, but I was high, a lot. Back to weirdness. So we traipse around the place, have a meal and settle in to gamble. We cruise over to The Barbary Coast, to see the huge arse WOF. My better half decides to drop some coin, and out of it we end up on the plus for 50 cents. Whooo hooo. Maxed out on fun there; it is a very nice place. Especially the guy in the bathroom handing out towels for a mere tip. Donged him 5 bucks for luck. We wander for a while, intent on the first cocktail of the trip for the ladyship. We mosy on over the bridge heading for Caesars.A homeless guy is kind of half talking to himself and half-yelling, maybe an extra half of pure spite as well. Toss him a buck, and he wants my “king”. Walking on, he still yells that he wants my “king”. More walking, more yelling about my “king”. I can only imagine that somewhere in the not too distant past, he lost his bankroll to someone elses …”king”. Remember, Blackjack kills.

Its off to Caesars for the first, well, for me the third, cocktail. Wife of mine loves a Amaretto. So she gets hers, and I garner a cold Heineken. Wander somemore. Back to the B to get the car and head to Red Rock. Never have been there, so off we go. It is a goregeous property. Take a buncha pix, and head in for some fun. Played craps for a while and lost. Down a hundy. My better half decides that a foray into the high slots area is her tonic. What the hell was in that Amaretto? So she drops a hundy in a 5 buck WOF. That being gone, she kids me that it was my bad mojo from the craps table. I take it as a man, and cry.

Back to the B, and plans to eat. Her highness wants a killer bowl of Ox-tail soup from the Cal. OK! Dtown is just my liking for rolling. Get to the promised land, and right away lose my ass at The Cal, The MSS, and The GN. Yes the triple play. Every where was 7 out, 7 out, 7 out. I mean it was hideous. So that lady I am with decides that WOF is the call. Dollar size. OK. Grab a MSS 777 Ale, and I am good to go. Drop a hundy in the WOF. She hits for 500. She hits for 250. In the meantime, I lose like 150 right next to her. The mocking laughter from her forced me to drink more great beer. I suddenly remembered that I had to get a Cigar. Not 1, but like 70 OK, time to puff like a bigshot. Only I really don’t smoke. So I learned this much – Don’t inhale a cigar. Well, maybe, if you want to get a really good rush. But now it was time for more abuse on the craps table. Only it was time for the Queen to eat. Off we go to eat, but the Ox-Tail isn’t served till 1100, and yours truly Is kinda wobbling now. So Her graciousness, allows us to head back to the B. Lets go. Bad idea number 1- giving me the Video recorder thing. Now I have disc-permanent proof off how buzzed I was at the time. Ugh. But a happy drunk for sure. That might not be the same feeling s the B security guys had when I was filming the crap game, but WTF, I had fun!

So its goodnight, and down a bunch, but hell, we are in Vegas!

That was until I decided to film up and down the hallways in the Bellagio, but that’s for another time. At least I was wearing clothes.

Day 2 dawns, and we are out the door for shopping. Lemme put it kindly, day 2, 3 and most of 4 was shopping. God I love that lady. Well maybe. Sorta. Kinda. Shes …OK.

I gotta get me a drink! Most of the days were wander, shop and get killed in the evening at the strip. I do mean killed. Hammered at the B on the 10 buck craps, hammered at MGM. Wait.

Hammered in a good way on a beautiful morning when we hit the Sigma Derby! We had a bloody blast for 3 hours with one other couple from Michigan. I mean that is fun, pure, unadulterated, fun. And killer cocktail service.

We move to the MSS on the 17th, to continue the slaughter. But not without me making a fool outta myself by yelling for Mr.21 at the top of my lungs near the BJ tables, which caused the whole area to start clapping. I was drunk, so if they were clapping for me or the guy that hit 21 right when I said it, who knows. Being that Mr 21 didn’t hear my call, I decided it was a good time to play some VideoPoker. With Ales from 777. Usually it’s a good thing, but I musta hit 90,000 bloody fullhouses. And three 4OfAKinds’s. Got the scratch thing, and gave it to her holiness. She hit 2 bucks everytime. I blame her. The brain of this operation, (that would be my wife) decides lets hit the strip again. OK! I mean WTF, I cant get any worse, can I ? But first she wants her cigs. Now, she is one of a few smokers that has to have the brand she wants. But of course, with the way this trip has gone luck wise, no one has her brand. They do, but it is at the Paiute reservation smoke shoppe, down in the “fun” side of town. We get there, and she is all happy that there is a Police station right behind the place. Uh, I think there is a reason it is there, dear. For some god forsaken reason, it is like double bonus coupon day in the place and it is crawling with folks. I a mean every kind of character you can imagine. Just try to picture Hipple, his ex, and throw in a few other maybe …”seasoned” crew members, and you get the picture. Of course the computer system goes down, and we strike up conversation with a really nice lady at the check out. She tosses in buncha lighters. And cans of smokeless (for my son) and were outta there without getting killed. Why my better half needed more lighters, I have no idea, but, eh.

Of course being the moron that I am, it seems like a good idea to spend more money at the craps table. Lets put it this way- Ouch. Owweeeeee. More pain.

At some point in time, we headed to South Pointe/Coast, and I thought it was huge box. But hell, I aint Frank Lloyd Wright.

Somewhere along this highway of destruction, I met a bunch of cool folks from Cali, Michigan, and Arizona, as well as a couple of retirees from Hawaii. Unfortunately, I was 3 sheets to the wind at the time, but I know we had fun.

But as every good football fan knows, it is the underdog that comes through in the end. Well maybe that is what we all hope for, but “Rudy” was already done. And for the record, I hate USC on a parlay sheet. Go Irish! Kick the arse of the Trojans!

Last daze – we shop more, well actually only 1 shops, I haul. Anywhose, last night rears its ugly head and it is time to really have fun together. Which means – she goes and plays BJ, and I go nuts on the craps tables.

Maybe, but everything was looking ice cold. So I go and wander to the Binions 3 dollar craps. Now I am down to a buy-in max of 100. So off we go. Get killed down to 65, and back up to 100. Radar, a dealer, was the only reason to go there. He,…. rocks. Tip him from “Da Hawaiian Guy”.

It is back to the Cal, and the MSS for a craps extravaganza, but the tables are so sickly looking that I play VP for a while. 20 in, and up to 100. Give the hundy to that broad I am with for her BJ playing, and back to VP. 20 more in, and up another 100. Give ‘em to Mama.

And then the time came for craps.

I wandered over to the MSS tables. I took stick left. I bought in for 95 bucks. My wonderful wife even played, losing more, but had fun. I was down to 65. It came to my shot at the bones. Now the whole frigging week, I have lost arse, shot like crap, and basically been the whipping boy for the dealers and the “guys who set the dice haters” crew.

Without a doubt, I had a bloody killer roll, OK? My better half came over after her BJ table dealer said WTF is going on at the craps table? Made passes on the the 4, 6(X2), 8(X2), the 9, the 10. Hit the hard ways on them all. Not once, but twice on the 6, and 3 times on the H10. I got the H8 for a winner right when a guy hopped it 4-4 for, no sheet, a 100. actually made tips for the dealers in excess of 500. The boys were happy. I got tossed over 6 25 chips for my roll. You wouldn’t believe the sweat on the pit. I mean sweat I rolled from 8PM til 905PM. Hour and 5. I threw a bunch a sevens when shoulda, and yo’s and craps when then guys had C & E’s. It was a duke of a roll, and my beautiful wife had to deal with it, since they actually stared tipping her. I sheet you not, the guys for some reason, knew she was the one earlier had lost when the table was choppy, and dongged her like a hundred.

It finally ended, and I colored up 1800.

It was a killer week, but the ending, it just rocked me no doubt.

Aloha, Happy Thanksgiving!

It's Back.

Back, tired, and ready to work.

But I got a shit load-a-tales.

Try wait, 'K?

Me, most of the time.

The Face That Greeted Us.



Next up; Sin

Snaggle Puss would say -

"Exit, stage left"

Live Nude Girls!

Me & the 'she' will be on the lee.

Next up will be from Sin City.



2 ticks till Vacation

2 days till I get her all to myself.





E nana 'ia ka pulapula i ka la'a kea i ka la'a uli.

Da Ohana, 1977

Hows da hair?

Kolohe Kid No Shoes

Kaupo Ranch, 50's

Mango juice running down the chin.

You rocked, Gramps.



Something to think about

Pix from Olly at 808Surfer - This is JUST OFF THE BEACH on one of the Northwest Hawaiian Islands (french frigate shoals)

Its their environment.

From 808 Surfer

Little carnage amongst the beauty.

Good Weekends to you all.



Mahalo - Vets.

345 days outta 365 are about winding down. Only 3 more daze of glory until me and the Lady C head outta dodge for a week. Almost didnt come off, but now it is a go.

Tomorrow I'll go by my Tutu Kane's resting place. 11/11. My Gramps. He was raised in Kaupo , Maui. He spoke fluent Hawaiian. He had the patience of a saint. He smoked his pipe in a big old Lazy boy, watching old flicks and football. We ate mayo and shoyu on our veggies. He loved my wife. Rode horseback to Ulupalakua and back for supplies. Drove a '66 Chevy SS Impala. Drove fast. Told me I worked harder than my Dad, and he is the hardest working human I know. Liked a cold beer. Never gave me hard time for being kolohe.

I am proud to have been his Grandson.

Miss ya Grampa.

Hows the Mangoes in heaven?