Bruddahs in arms

Sooooo good. Lucky me 2 days of righteous enough surf. Even tho' there is a multitude of merde going down all around meself, I can be sanctified by the wash of the ocean.

Yep, it was that good.

Back to our regularly scheduled doofusing.



Sunshine back in the house

Maile's sunshine the cat is back, no worse for the wear, my wallet a bit lighter...and thankful for the efforts of a certain Honey.



Sinfest Sunday

I am.

Why people suck.

We have this really cool cat. Sunshine, the orange tabby(?) who crusies out doors. She used to be indoors, but one day she decided that she wanted out. 7 years later, she owns our block. She basically never leaves the loop, always in our driveway, or roaming to some of the neighbors digs for some free chow. Sunshine even would start out going on walks w/ me and the Champy, along with Sadie the dog. She always got distracted before too long by a leaf or lizard or a fart in the breeze. In the mornings, and when I arrive home at night from job2, she will be at the front door, asking for some (more) food. She has a dish and water bowl at our house, and a few of the neighbors, as well. Sunshine wrestles w/ Sadie the dog, and will atagonize Lucy, the pygmi pig. She always gets just 'tough' enough with Sadie, and never with Champy or any other little ones, no matter what extremity they may pull on.

Sunshine has her own little world. She seems smart enough to be able to lie in our front gutter, and when you drive up, will not move; until the last minute, walking ever so slowly out of harms way. She also loves to sleep on top of my recently washed and waxed truck. Leaving many wonderful paw prints and hair for the winds and rain to wash off. Many gifts of her hunts are left in the yard. She leaves just enough food in her dish to attract the pigeons, and when the mood strikes her, the hunt is on. Needless to say the rat problem of out doors, is nil. Mice know better than to hang around. Lizards; arent too bright.

So I am on duty last night. Fridays are always busy, and a semi-full moon brings out the lunatics, (yours truly included) so a busy entertaining day was had. I fell alsleep for my turn at 4 hours around 1100PM (thats 2300 for you miltary folks keeping track; inside joke, sorry)

At 125AM Lady C calls, and is hysterical; almost.

Some fucker shot Sunshine w/ a BB gun and entered through her neck and is lodged near her lungs and heart. A pneumo-thorax injury the vet tells me. A thousand dollars deposit asked for and gotten to see if she can survive the night and into today. A crying, grief filled daughter. A complete and total breakdown of my faith in mankind (or youthkind) on my part. No one on our block would do something this horrid. No one. And we exsist on a Loop. No reason to go in our out, unless you are going home, or visiting. No one delivers after 900PM, and Maile saw her at the door at 9-930, she heard some noise around 10, and the desperate cries from Sunshine at 1030. Lady C came home from her job, to rush her to the only 24 hour vet open.

Some skater-punk types were in the area the night before Lady C tells me. Sunshine crusies out in the street gutter. Related?

I'll be finding out.

I guarantee it.

The cutest thing about all of it was Maile writing on the calendar that sits fronting the computer -

"Sunshine will get better"

In that little teen girl stylee of handwriting, you know all young, believing, and full of innocence?

Honey P. Sunshine - say a prayer for your kin, OK?

'Cause mankind is fucked.



Murphy, # 2.

I went for a surf today, so that cancels out all BS for a moment.

Ok, thats long enough.

During the last couple of shifts, the brushfires have been cranking. On Sundays 24 hours, we had one that ended up going for a week, and it started on our shift. It burned a total of 7,000 acres, and was a bitch to control. When I am working, multi-tasking is the name of the game. Lots of it. I get off on doing more than one thing at a time; so I slide right along transmitting, sending alarms, doing the public service thing, and in general trying to be a productive contributing member of our crew.

I played a lot of football, and Dadhawaiianmark is still a longtime coach for all my life, so ....thats kinda where it lurks from.

Anyhow, during this huge ass brushfire, we get another one, going on at the other side of the island, along with a missing set of teenagers visiting from the mainland, and numerous medical calls.

There is terminology that is used for transmitting over the radios and shit, but for the most part, you understand it; then its all good.

That is except for one very anal-retentive Chief. In the midst of all this shit going down, and having 10 or 12 channels working with crews at the fires, the rescue, the medicals, along with companies going to and from others areas since they have to provide coverage when situations like these occur, this loon calls up to complain that -

"Stop using "standing by" It is suppose to be "This is Control"....It has been in the procedures for 7 years and you need to stop this now"

Well, fuck you too.

It may not make sense, but this was the highpoint of assholery; we were doing a bang-up job with all the shit going down, and this Maroooooon has nothing better to do than critcize something as lame as this. I was fucking pissed as ever I have been in the department. My captain was pissed, and he is 10 times more mellow than me. I am a high strung lunatic, he is human valium.

Next shift, he e-mails our Chief and complains more.

Well fuck you two times more.

In a moment of child-like behavior, I was gonna call in sick just because - Because of this doofus. But that would harm our crew, and that i wont do.

He is still a fuck-tard.

But the surf was pretty good today, so be it.




Usually I am a pretty patient person. Usually. Thing is, of late it seems that the majority of humanity has been aiming various slings and barbs (pointy kine, not boobs kine) at me. Because of this inconsiderate attention being paid to my niceness, I have revolted. Yeah, no more Mr. Nice Kanaka.

Oh but, what prey tell, has led you down this evil infested road of woe, beachdog?
Ya just had to ask, eh?

In a effort to lessen the depletion of the ozone, I bought a Moped a month or so back. That and I was tired as fuck of paying 3 something and a left nut for gas; it was a good intended plan. Of course this was met with visions of insurance policy cash-ins by ol’ whats her name, but … Ha! I never paid the premiums, so there! Not really, but WTF, I can act tough over the type written bravado here, I guess. It goes pretty well, and for all intensive purposes, saves some coin for Vegas, maybe. No, not Baby, …Maybe. Anyways, I ride and get from job1 to job2 without any problems or major nuclear disasters….until the other night going home from job2. It rains here in paradise; for real. It does. At night once in awhile. Like the other night. I am minding my own business, riding along at my 45 MPH (a billion KPH for you metrically challenged) - and the rain is pelting me in a unforgiving way. Now, just a island primer for those who haven’t had the pleasure of visiting my little space of happiness over here; raining doesn’t mean rain all the time. Matter of fact, rain is passing like in seconds. It can come down pretty hard, and then voila!, sunshine. Or in this case, the dark of night. Anywhooose, piloting this death ship, I am just about 1 mile from the warmth of well, something, when some unseen evilness grabs the damn moped, and throws my already tired ass to the ground.

Being that I am pretty experienced in falling; I fall with all the grace of a wounded mullet. And splay out all over the wet and increasingly hard asphalt. I am just glad it was 1130 at night (that’s 2330 for you psycho-military types) and no much traffic was on the highway. Bounding back up from my latest encounter with mother earth, I check that no spurts are coming from places that usually don’t, and hop on the mechanical nightmare, and restart and off to home. Being too tired to check the moped for injury, I enter to a sleeping home. Shower off the various items of road attached to small dings in my leg and foot, and off to bed.

In the morning, I find that the death metal is fine, and ready to take me to good old job1. Job1 being the good old Firehouse. Good old, fire. Yep. And its raining, again. So off I goes, at 0530 AM. (that’s 530 AM…Dick, ain’t I?) I end up at a intersection, waiting like you are suppose to, when the bloody light is red. Crackheads seem to follow me around in life, BTW. Crackhead Bob was behind me, apparently. Crackhead Bob did not see the light, I guess. When Crackhead Bob started the pressing of brakes, Crackhead Bob was pretty fucking close to ….good old dumb ass, me. Crackhead Bobs squealing wheels created a forceful explosion of…..well almost shit. That’s cause Bob slid out, and slammed into the guardrail. Being the good guy, I called 911 for him. Fucktard. Once my heart started beating a rate less than Pi R Squared, (cause Pies R round) – I went off to work. Firehouse was the calmest part of my day 24 hours of fun, fun, fun. The thing is, after 24 hours, I gotta ride back home. Only had one almost this time. I mean WTF? Jesus Christmas, who the hell did I piss the hell off? After a month a riding this thing, I thought most of the ‘tards would avoid me.

Of course, that is just 2 of 3 days in this adventure.




Got up to the sound of majito's tweeter-ing out side the window. No one was up yet. Came home after work yesterday at the pink acrerage about half-past the monkeys ass. Some asshole in a old beater car almost ran old moped-boy off the road 'cause they were not paying attention. If looks could kill. (well, it was dark, so that doesnt really apply, do it?)

Fed up with the usual amounts of horseshit that has been occurring, I went to the ocean.

Sprinting for my surf shorts, wax, and board; I made it out in record time. Almost record, sorta kinda fast - like. Of course the wind is howling this morning. But the sun is out, winking and teasing around the clouds and such. Blasting some blood curdling music to get my ass awake, I plowed down a coffee, and headed to the old oceanic realm for MY senses.

Senseless. Thats me. Pulling into the parking lot, afetr being tail gated by some moron, the waves were not all that bad. Sure it was not stellar, but it beat listening to eternal drivel from the leader of the obstinate ones. (???) Ha. Anyways, after doing the rounds of picking up litter, and grabbing a few recyclables, its wax on, and out to the water.

A bunch of grommets (small kine kid surf rats) had come by way of Moms vehicle. It just made my brain fart rubber nickles and all. There is no stoke as fresh and true as a little grommets. You got about 50 pounds soaking wet all revved up and ready to whack lips and carve rails on a board that weighs less than the Sunday paper. Shorts are about a size zippo. The rats fished out into the sea, and proceeded to tear it up. I got a ring side seat, while stretching the old body out a bit.

Surfed for a good couple hours and had a real good session.

And now its back to the grinder, life revolves on, and around, but never through.

Shoots; Aloha.


Zap, and you are all good to go.

Dadhawaiianmark had his heart stuffs done. 2 hours, through the artery and to the heart, zap the offending connection that was causing the mis-firings, and bang, kick you out and get back to Honoka'a. No shit. In and Out burger got nothin' on Dr. Shen.

He comes back tomorrow to Coach his team in a scrimmage in Waialua.

My Dad kicks ass.

(of course, this doesnt sit well with all members, but T.S.!!)

Mahalo's for the good wishes, and positives thoughtin's.



Storms, earthquakes, and Dad to O'ahu for heart stuffs

Like the plate aint full enough...Dad and Momhawaiianmark are on the aeroplane for O'ahu right now for heart stuffs for Dad tomorrow AM.

Kisses and Honihoni me
Kaleo & Kiana

At least the troops will be here for the Big Kahuna......


No Worries...4 now.

Up and at 'em. Its all good, but always alert, Iniki had some surprises.

1992 Path Of Iniki

Out the door to look for something surfable.


It's on to the future....

My parents have moved past the late 70's and officialy are now in the modern times. Momhawaiianmark used the term 'googled' today. Of course, she didn't mean it in the way you or I, or the 20 gadzillion other computer users of the world do.

They printed a schedule for Dadhawaiianmark's football team up.

And that means 'googled' I guess.

Momhawaiianmark is the same techno savvy lady that called me up crying that she had broken her new cell phone that we got for her...from a pay phone. Just press the little phone icon, Mom. Its just turned off.

Mom's still trying to use her calling card; even tho' the cell to cell costs nothing. God bless her. Mom and Dad still has a rotary dialed phone, last time we went to Kamuela. They are in the process of building their new home in Honoka'a, all brand spanking modern and stuff. Dad got himself a Plasma TV, all new appliances, gorgeous design of the home, vaulted ceilings and stuff.

Wanna bet they still have that rotary phone?

Mom can bake a cake outta water and bread, and my Dad taught me how to build an extension to our home with a bent saw and a broken hammer. Once, we were given a basketball backboard and poles for the school. All I had to do was knock off the 500 lbs cement that was formerly holding the thing in the ground.

With a hammer and chisel.

Then it was only needed to load it onto a flat bed truck, haul it to the school, dig the post-holes in the rock-hard, stone infested, ground.

Builds a character.

Aloha, and welcome to the modern world.


Kekoa, Day 1

Mr. KJ
"Keeeks" & Grammy



...Kekoa Kahananui showed up right on time. At 7 lbs, fiftyzillion ounces and more inches and weight than the older bro, KJ.....

All healthy, and .......

Big, huge, quietly smoky.......

Brown eyes.

and ....

Wisps of .....

Brown Hair.

Just like my 2. Complete opposites.

Not a peep, either. 1 cry. Took a shot. 1 more cry.

Latched right on; right away.

Here we go again.

I'll post some pix when I actually have more than fifteen minutes of freetime (dom)

Thanks for the positives, We appreciate it.



Aloha, E Komo Mai


Tomorrow, Monday August 6, wil b the C-section date for our newest grandson.

Too tired, exhausted, and all-around miserafuckable to be stoked. That'll change, but right now its solar eclipse time.


Schedule, 7/31 - 8/8

Yesterday - 24 hours Firecom.

Today - 10 hours OT @ Firecom ; 6 hours Hotel.

8/2 - 6 Hours Hotel.

8/3 - 8.5 Hours Hotel.

8/4 - 24 Hours Firecom.

8/5 - 8.5 Hours Hotel.

8/6 - 8.5 Hours Hotel.

8/7 - 8.5 hours Hotel.

8/8 - 24 Hours Firecom.

There is a convetion in town. All the Hotel hours will probably go longer, depending.

I'll try like hell to sneak AM surfs in before the hotel.

What the hell is that?, like 125 hours?

Me = Z O M B I E.

Eh. Oh well.

Shoots, aloha.