There tends to be times when things are as difficult as can be. You know how when things come in threes? Or when that one fricking spot don’t come out as in some stain? Or perhaps it is the interpretation of what you said that isn’t comprehended by the other that you are speaking to?


Yeah that’s what I mean.

You know there are days that come in droves; those days when the influx of crap is undeniably un-defendable. There is no way you will defeat the crap attack. There is no way the defender of the goal will keep the offending offense from scoring at will; cause “It aint gonna happen, Jules.”

Yeah that’s the ticket; you can just sense the downward spiral of intoxicating fluids coursing through your veins, adept at avoiding the sanity indicators. Every stop light you come to is red. Fucking 8 minimum grocery line has the new cashier, the one with 3 fingers and smells.

Fucking karma.

Oh but it isn’t karma, dude. It is not, cause you be living right, eh?

No it aint. It is just the fucking way shit happens. Shit happens. People fucking die. And your loans don’t get approved, and fucking shit happens, man.

You get responsibility placed at your dining room table; and you ache at the chance to prove to yourself; ANYONE, that fucking shit don’t happen this way. That by doing right, by trying, by giving it that good old fucking college try; that shit wont happen that way.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

It jives to the left, you jump to the right, and you man the fuck up. Well, yeah maybe.

Quit the fucking whining, and see the fact of the matter as you are fucking lucky, you are fucking blessed, you are fucking breathing, living, loving, existing in this “Lipstick on pit bull” fucking world.

(What the fuck is with that? They garrans ballbearings don’t have a fucking Pit Bull)

Quit the fucking crying ass shit.

Because I was in charge today.

Yeah and it was OT.
And during that OT we had building fire, a overturned Kayak, a HAZMAT incident, a inaccessible brush fire, and assorted dramas. Before it was 12:30 in the afternoon; when I was to get off.

We also had the 911 call from a firefighters wife that he had hung himself in the bathroom; listened to her cries and pleas for help and assistance; her begging for the neighbor to help cut him down, and his heartless “I have a bad back”. We had to notify the chiefs, and assorted critical incident stress de-briefers. He coded; and died.

And now I am at the fucking Hotel; listening to the bitching of people over 13 dollar burgers.


Hug someone.


Hay is for horses, grass is for cows.


For all that it is worth; (which in these gosh darn, funnin' econonic times) ainta tad much over zip, for the life of meself cant rescue my ass from a hole in the ground.


Like I know.

Grandkiddo Kaleo walked in the bedroom the other morning ( which, since it has been muggy as hell) had the AC on (thereby depleting the ozone layer, my bank account and the federal reserve all in one fell swoop) and stated -

"It is cold in here"

Of course not being one to argue with a 2 year old who is obviously smarter than I, I immediately realized the ironic statement he had made.

Smart kid, that 1.

Economix conflagurations notwithstanding, the tourist industry in aloha - land has been damned to eternal hell by the Jerry Falwell of the tourist trade - high friggin' air fares

But - The Moana is head above the rest in being that the clientle are coming in droves from Europe, Aussie land and points where the $ VS. (whatever the damn currency that aint dinars) is.


The Pink hell re-opens in all its grandiose on January 20, 2009.

I'll be turning fifty.

I have not surfed in many days.

Thats it.

Aloha, stay warm.

Stay well.