Paddle boards - 1930's unrefinished
24.7.05
23.7.05
Lawyers / CabDrivers - evolution hasnt gone far - has it?
Ah beer. the great equalizer. Making you think you are Arnold, Peter North, and Jehovah all at once.
Why I hate lawyers.
My 6 best classmates from college are all lawyers. Good guys. Salt o' da earth like that. Help you at the drop of a hat.
But I dealt with Barry. Barry D. Barry D. Edwards. Barry D. Edwards, esquiremyass.
Bit of anger, no?
Long story - short. Barry is a lawyer. Well, Barry thinks he is a lawyer. He even has a license. I got one too, but mine just says i can drive. It seems his enables him to fuck with people for the hell of it. The meat and potatoes of the tale is Barry has a son, and he went to school with my son, problem child #1, not hoodlum, not angel, stuck in purgatory of real world challenge. Anyhow, K ( my son) and his friends partied up with Barry's kid and friends. Herb and beers, whatever, stories true line is yet to be known. It seems that Barry's kid, and some young wahine (woman) were suppose to get together. ( da da da daa dum) but, alas, Barry' kid was cock-blocked by a friend of my sons. Barry's kid didnt get laid. (hey, tough shit)
I guess Barry's kid wasnt too happy, and let the revelers of the night know that. So as it turns out. many hands gathered to ruin Barry's kids evening, along with Barry's X wifes car, which Barry's kid was driving.
Yeah, I know, cut to the chase.
So this Hawaiian finds out about this scene one sunny day. Barry actually calls me up, and says ( in the most influential "i am a big man" voice) Uh, Mr. M, Your son, K, seems to have ruined my wifes car, and assaulted my son, Keegan.
Ok, my day is fucked, let me know more Mr O- so- important- sounding-on- the- phone.
I figure the best way to handle this is like men, we talk it out figure out what the fuck happened, and make amends. In old Hawaii, this was called hooponopono, or, "sit and talk it out like sane people."
But Barry is older school than that. He is like missonary old school. Fuckers came to do good, and did very well, thankyouverymuchyoudumbhawaiians.
So Barry the lawyer, sues HM the fire/surfer ignorant fuck.
HM goes nuts.
Spent a year learning law shit. Seriously. Read everything I could. Nolo Press. saved my ass. Taught me that a lawyer, (sorry all you legals) is nothing. At first, I was intimidated with the task, then, fucking eh, it was a CHALLENGE.
The best is knowing that Barry thought, "ignorant firefighter/hawaiian"...
Oh yeah.
Bring it on, Mr E$q.
Well he did. And I learned the hard way, that fighting a battle when the rules are written by the opponent, is tough.
But Barry did not get my piece of paradise, matter of fact, all said, I lost only my sanity for a year, time, and about $200 bucks. He wanted $5000. Fucker.
The two bills was filing fees and shit I had to do.
Another thing I learned, was lawyers get paid wether they win or lose.
But Barry did not get shit from me.
When the judge read his spiel, and closed it all down, the most satisfying part was him saying TO Barry - " I think if you prepared as well as Mr. M did in his defense, things would have gone differently.
Moral victory was better than no victory at all, I guess.
Still cant stand that fucker, 'tho.
Aloha.
Why I hate lawyers.
My 6 best classmates from college are all lawyers. Good guys. Salt o' da earth like that. Help you at the drop of a hat.
But I dealt with Barry. Barry D. Barry D. Edwards. Barry D. Edwards, esquiremyass.
Bit of anger, no?
Long story - short. Barry is a lawyer. Well, Barry thinks he is a lawyer. He even has a license. I got one too, but mine just says i can drive. It seems his enables him to fuck with people for the hell of it. The meat and potatoes of the tale is Barry has a son, and he went to school with my son, problem child #1, not hoodlum, not angel, stuck in purgatory of real world challenge. Anyhow, K ( my son) and his friends partied up with Barry's kid and friends. Herb and beers, whatever, stories true line is yet to be known. It seems that Barry's kid, and some young wahine (woman) were suppose to get together. ( da da da daa dum) but, alas, Barry' kid was cock-blocked by a friend of my sons. Barry's kid didnt get laid. (hey, tough shit)
I guess Barry's kid wasnt too happy, and let the revelers of the night know that. So as it turns out. many hands gathered to ruin Barry's kids evening, along with Barry's X wifes car, which Barry's kid was driving.
Yeah, I know, cut to the chase.
So this Hawaiian finds out about this scene one sunny day. Barry actually calls me up, and says ( in the most influential "i am a big man" voice) Uh, Mr. M, Your son, K, seems to have ruined my wifes car, and assaulted my son, Keegan.
Ok, my day is fucked, let me know more Mr O- so- important- sounding-on- the- phone.
I figure the best way to handle this is like men, we talk it out figure out what the fuck happened, and make amends. In old Hawaii, this was called hooponopono, or, "sit and talk it out like sane people."
But Barry is older school than that. He is like missonary old school. Fuckers came to do good, and did very well, thankyouverymuchyoudumbhawaiians.
So Barry the lawyer, sues HM the fire/surfer ignorant fuck.
HM goes nuts.
Spent a year learning law shit. Seriously. Read everything I could. Nolo Press. saved my ass. Taught me that a lawyer, (sorry all you legals) is nothing. At first, I was intimidated with the task, then, fucking eh, it was a CHALLENGE.
The best is knowing that Barry thought, "ignorant firefighter/hawaiian"...
Oh yeah.
Bring it on, Mr E$q.
Well he did. And I learned the hard way, that fighting a battle when the rules are written by the opponent, is tough.
But Barry did not get my piece of paradise, matter of fact, all said, I lost only my sanity for a year, time, and about $200 bucks. He wanted $5000. Fucker.
The two bills was filing fees and shit I had to do.
Another thing I learned, was lawyers get paid wether they win or lose.
But Barry did not get shit from me.
When the judge read his spiel, and closed it all down, the most satisfying part was him saying TO Barry - " I think if you prepared as well as Mr. M did in his defense, things would have gone differently.
Moral victory was better than no victory at all, I guess.
Still cant stand that fucker, 'tho.
Aloha.
Primo promo, or how to take multiple choice tests and have cold beers waiting
Surf auction was killer. Great shapes, boards, and assorted misscelania. net up with LG, with that NY accent and pure stoke, it was great. you gotta be commited to move Xthousand miles just to surf. Met neosponge and his crew. Nice folk. Pix, later. Ah - Kona brewing company - cold beers await. I have earned it. Lady C not happy. Oh well. 900 AM had the promo test for FF2/3 fuck if i know why I gotta take the 2 again, being that I just got promoted to a 2. WTF? ---I know Hawaiian style. 1 day off, I am outta here for adult beverages - many - AM surf tomorrow. Jebbediah, i hope there is waves.
22.7.05
Self-Absorbed Prick
Admitting the fact that my attitude can be abrasive as a brillo pad on a pink bottom, is a real hard thing to do.
Now that is over, ruminations, my dear man, ruminations.
Ruminate this, Motherfucker.
There was at one time, a visitor to our island who always stayed at "Hotel Hell". Mr White. He is (was) a interior desinger from San Fran. A genuine, dyed in wool, 3 dollar bill. Queer doesnt begin to describe him. In the words of Freddie Mercury... "bring me another boy, this ones broke!" His adventures in gay debachuery were legendary. His stays were marked by expensive changes to his room, altered menus for his dining pleasures, constant, constant verbal abuse of waithelp, staff, and management. But, (and he found all he could) he spent huge wads of cash. (As well as huge wads of jizz, from the housekeepers tales.) Once, his highness had come in over the holidays (Xmas) and his "personal assistant" - a middle aged, portly lady, had placed the christmas tree in the room for the royals enjoyment. For god knows what reason, he went ape-shit that it was in the wrong location. Fire the lady on the spot. Took her return ticket. (asshole of the year, we have a winner)
As it would go, the staff heard of this lady and her plight. A bunch of do-ggoders and the like collected some coinage and got her a fare home to the mainland. She was stoked, thankful.
Best part to come.
All I could think about was how much a fucker this guy was. I mean, you got $, you got your boy-toy harem. Do what floats your boat, but hacking people up verbally and just for entertainment, WTF? Fantasy of having to deal with this cretin on the fire-side of my life was often thought of - (die motherfucker, die!!!) - Not. but it did cross my mind.
Our station responds to my "hotel hell", so chances are it could happen. Years of this shit went on.
Then, on a sunlit, gorgeous afternoon, the alarm came in - "unresponsive person, Ladder X, 2259 XXXXXX ave" Hotell hell. Off we go. Victim is in the presidential suite. Up, in, gear at the ready.
There, in the fading light of the afternoon was Mr. White, AIDS/HIV victim, breathing his last breaths of this world. His complexion was pock marked with sores, scabs, and pus. He looked, and smelt, like shit.
I couldnt think of how much pain this guy put people through, in his life.
I couldnt feel anger anymore.
After watching him die, I felt a great deal of pity.
Sometimes, you wish for shit, and you really dont want to have it granted.
Aloha.
Now that is over, ruminations, my dear man, ruminations.
Ruminate this, Motherfucker.
There was at one time, a visitor to our island who always stayed at "Hotel Hell". Mr White. He is (was) a interior desinger from San Fran. A genuine, dyed in wool, 3 dollar bill. Queer doesnt begin to describe him. In the words of Freddie Mercury... "bring me another boy, this ones broke!" His adventures in gay debachuery were legendary. His stays were marked by expensive changes to his room, altered menus for his dining pleasures, constant, constant verbal abuse of waithelp, staff, and management. But, (and he found all he could) he spent huge wads of cash. (As well as huge wads of jizz, from the housekeepers tales.) Once, his highness had come in over the holidays (Xmas) and his "personal assistant" - a middle aged, portly lady, had placed the christmas tree in the room for the royals enjoyment. For god knows what reason, he went ape-shit that it was in the wrong location. Fire the lady on the spot. Took her return ticket. (asshole of the year, we have a winner)
As it would go, the staff heard of this lady and her plight. A bunch of do-ggoders and the like collected some coinage and got her a fare home to the mainland. She was stoked, thankful.
Best part to come.
All I could think about was how much a fucker this guy was. I mean, you got $, you got your boy-toy harem. Do what floats your boat, but hacking people up verbally and just for entertainment, WTF? Fantasy of having to deal with this cretin on the fire-side of my life was often thought of - (die motherfucker, die!!!) - Not. but it did cross my mind.
Our station responds to my "hotel hell", so chances are it could happen. Years of this shit went on.
Then, on a sunlit, gorgeous afternoon, the alarm came in - "unresponsive person, Ladder X, 2259 XXXXXX ave" Hotell hell. Off we go. Victim is in the presidential suite. Up, in, gear at the ready.
There, in the fading light of the afternoon was Mr. White, AIDS/HIV victim, breathing his last breaths of this world. His complexion was pock marked with sores, scabs, and pus. He looked, and smelt, like shit.
I couldnt think of how much pain this guy put people through, in his life.
I couldnt feel anger anymore.
After watching him die, I felt a great deal of pity.
Sometimes, you wish for shit, and you really dont want to have it granted.
Aloha.
21.7.05
Green Eyes / Sedated / 1 is Good, 2 is Better / Placidyl 750
My green eyes have caused me more trouble than they are worth. Not only do they not see 20/20, but what others see in them can be, well, distracting. Irrelevant.
What I can see through those eyes can be as amazing as creation, as delicate as flowers. As terrible as your worst imagination. Fine sunrise. The end of a persons exsistence. Copious amounts of blood, gyser like, from wounds given from another. A newborn, whose first touch was mine. Ghosts in the firehouse; walking in, milling about, craving return to either the living, or peace with the dead. Sunsets, moonrise (killer one last night), rains marching down from the Koolau's.
Seeing laughter. Being jealous.
"Whats the green one?"
"You'll like that"
(pops large pill into mouth, swallows with beer)
"You didnt drink more than that beer, did you?"
"6, why?"
"Uh, you probably dont want to know"
"What the fuck do you mean by that?"
"Good night, Mark"
Never ever take a Placidyl (?sp?) 750. Never, well, unless you want to sleep for a day,....or 2.
Green.
The water can be a lucious color of green, sometimes in the early AM, she gets all funky with hues of green, mixing all up with the blue. Evening time, just before sunset, she takes the last light of day, refracts the hell outta it, and puts on a show.
Damn, today has been a long, long, day.
Aloha.
What I can see through those eyes can be as amazing as creation, as delicate as flowers. As terrible as your worst imagination. Fine sunrise. The end of a persons exsistence. Copious amounts of blood, gyser like, from wounds given from another. A newborn, whose first touch was mine. Ghosts in the firehouse; walking in, milling about, craving return to either the living, or peace with the dead. Sunsets, moonrise (killer one last night), rains marching down from the Koolau's.
Seeing laughter. Being jealous.
"Whats the green one?"
"You'll like that"
(pops large pill into mouth, swallows with beer)
"You didnt drink more than that beer, did you?"
"6, why?"
"Uh, you probably dont want to know"
"What the fuck do you mean by that?"
"Good night, Mark"
Never ever take a Placidyl (?sp?) 750. Never, well, unless you want to sleep for a day,....or 2.
Green.
The water can be a lucious color of green, sometimes in the early AM, she gets all funky with hues of green, mixing all up with the blue. Evening time, just before sunset, she takes the last light of day, refracts the hell outta it, and puts on a show.
Damn, today has been a long, long, day.
Aloha.
20.7.05
http://www.hawaiiansurfauction.com/
July 23, 2005 .
Right after the promotional (again) test, for FF2/3, this is where to be.
Well, if you like old boards, old futs, and retards like me that drool over this crap.
Aloha.
July 23, 2005 .
Right after the promotional (again) test, for FF2/3, this is where to be.
Well, if you like old boards, old futs, and retards like me that drool over this crap.
Aloha.
Brushfire Fairytale newspaper pix
What morons do for fun that dont fucking surf.
12 hours, countless tired men, and one pissed off Hawaiian!
Brushfire Fairytales / H2O morning
Thanks to the asshole(s) that decided it would be fun to burn 50 acres on the East Side. now that the meth-heads have burnt up all the brush on the West Side, -----"go east young moron, go east" 12 hours after the start, cool bed, and moi-moi (sleep) time. No one hurt, main thing.
Pix whenever I get around to it.
Surfed dawn patrol at China Walls, 3 to 5 ft hawaiian scale, offshores, stiff 10 to 15 MPH. Calmness once in awhile, mostly fun, rippable lefts. Had some good waves. Surfed surprisingly well after working to friggin hard w/ Lady C at the house. (Oh, the trials and tribulations of interpersonal realtionships) Ships that often pass in the night, but ships whose captains are not on the same damn frequency of late.
Spectacular morning in the water. Dawn creeped in over Koko Head, light up the sky all pinks and blues. Clouds scattered about. Glanced by 2 sting rays, a turtle, and seabird. Wonders of mother ocean. Caught a pair of lined up screamers - all the way to the inside. Long paddle back out to the line up, but worth it, able to nab a couple inside gems that were hollow enuf to give a nice refracted look of the morning from inside the womb.
Aloha.
Pix whenever I get around to it.
Surfed dawn patrol at China Walls, 3 to 5 ft hawaiian scale, offshores, stiff 10 to 15 MPH. Calmness once in awhile, mostly fun, rippable lefts. Had some good waves. Surfed surprisingly well after working to friggin hard w/ Lady C at the house. (Oh, the trials and tribulations of interpersonal realtionships) Ships that often pass in the night, but ships whose captains are not on the same damn frequency of late.
Spectacular morning in the water. Dawn creeped in over Koko Head, light up the sky all pinks and blues. Clouds scattered about. Glanced by 2 sting rays, a turtle, and seabird. Wonders of mother ocean. Caught a pair of lined up screamers - all the way to the inside. Long paddle back out to the line up, but worth it, able to nab a couple inside gems that were hollow enuf to give a nice refracted look of the morning from inside the womb.
Aloha.
17.7.05
Waves Of Consequence / 3 o'clock in the morning courage
Surf. Courage. Consequence.
"3 o'clock in the morning courage" - Stolen from a Dave Parmenter article in Surfer Magazine. Dave is a great shaper, (meaning for non-surf types, he builds works of art that are called surfboards) an amazing writer, and was married to Rell Sunn, one of the most full of aloha women these islands have ever known. Rell was one of the best surfers, ever. Want to know more? Google 'em.
The quote is from the start of a piece on what flows through a surfers mind before the challenge of a new day begins. You already know there will be surf. You know it will be big. You are faced with the reality check of are the balls brassy, big enough? It stays with me to remind me of the need I have in surfing, and in the firehouse to stay strong, be not afraid, go out, conquer.
It simply means something takes alot of balls. Not just man kind balls, but guts. Wahine (women) have it. Ever tried to give birth? Why is it men take on stunts like car racing, sky-diving, surfing, death teasing challenges? We do those things becuse we are not the chosen ones. We will NEVER bring life into this world. We get the fun part, but not the work. Nothing is, or will have the challenge of the birth process. No man has balls big enough. So we go and prove ourselves, that we are equal to this challenge, by taking risks (see we are not afraid, meek woman!) , working to the bone, tempting the fates. All just to try to raise our status to that of the life-givers.
Waves of consequence. You see, surfing is a patient sport. Not everyday is great, perfect, off-shore breeze conditions. True believers stick around for the long run. The shit days. The cold days. The flat days. My good friend SK, he surfs. He is paranoid/hypocondriac. He is a good Joe. He is a bit on the cautious side. For me, I surf with abandon. It is my freedom, my place. I always like to take SK out for something that is a bit out of the comfort zone. Reason? you gotta live. You cant hide on the shoulder, waiting for the easier waves. You just gotta charge. How would you know wether or not you will make a macker wave unless you try?
And you know when they are coming. Years in the water of Mother Ocean preps you. Read the signs, that horizon that seemed 13 miles away, is now looking to be a bit less than around the block. Its coming. Right to you. A blue cobalt badland, millions of gallons of salt water, primed, tired from miles of travel, waiting to explode down the line of the reef your waiting at, timing to explode its energy on or with, you.
Put that fear away boy, 'cause your ass is grass if you dont go. Not only will you get pounded if you are not ready, you wont get shit from the others in the line-up. You better have some guts to put it on the line. Chicken-shits wont be allowed on this playground. If you cant handle the worst thing possible happening to you out there, get on the beach. Surf line-ups can be vicious. Everyone wants to be the top dog in this kennel. Whining pups will be eaten, alive. I have seen local bruddahs physically grab guys, take them out if the water, and tell them "you will not go back out". Localisim? You bet. Safety, thats the important part. Some clown out there in the way is more dangerous to others as well as themselves.
Waves come, you go, you survive the limits pushed. You take from that a bit more of life. The sun shines a bit brighter, the day crisper, the water a tad more refreshing.
Going to the brink. Anyone who surfs, who surfs long enough, has this tale.
Haleiwa. Winter. 10 feet hawaiian style (20 ft+ faces of the waves) Probably the biggest day, gnarliest conditions I have been out in. Dawn on the North Shore. (Not the fucking movie, OK?) The real, living breathing, gonna kick your ass, North Shore. It is an hour drive from my home. Not long by mainland standards, but island style, it is a eternity. 'specially when you know its macking. Get there and it is huge. Haleiwa has an angry, angry current it pulls continually. If you are outta place, so long, adios. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. I know this is the upper end of my ability. It doesnt help that I ride 9 ft longboards to begin with. But she is sooooo inviting. The rights (my backside) are just cranking, feathering, and hollow tubes of water are spitting with abandon. ( OK - note- surfers are either regular foot - Left foot forward, OR Goofy foot - Right foot forward - I, of course, am a Goofy foot, thereby explainig WTF i mean by backside) So on the coming morning, out to the water I paddle. My fucking chest is bouncing on the deck. I try to breathe, relax, play a tune over and over in my head. The arena is littered with few this morning. Maybe 6 guys out. Small, compact crowd for this perfect of a morning. Converse with the crew out - "sets about 10 minutes apart, bro", "get like, 8 waves in a set, but da last one, whooooo, cuz, she boardering on 'bout 12 feet". Whoooo, is right. That is some frequent, big, killer surf.
Catch a few, pushing 8+. rhythm starts to set in. Comfort zone has been breached, and a new level attained. Strange calmness has invaded the heart - the pounding has subsided to a lite ...pulse. The pulse of my life. The day. The timing of the waves. I pass a few early waves to the bros lines up better, more inside, more on the peak, sharing never felt so good. Hoots around the line-up. I can see the horizon closing. No one else near. This beast, this animal coming, is mine. And it had my name on it. And it was written in Las Vegas neon. The specfics were about 11, 12 feet. Thick. Standing up way outside, inviting me to go. I went. The drop down the face went smooth, lined up 20 feet in fromt of me, nothing but a 2 story building, ready to unfold a crystalline dream of a tube. God, I thought, this is perfect. Perfection, tho' nice, is unattainable.
As soon as I caught my rail trying to draw my line, I knew I was toast. Buttered. This wall of water that 1 second before was calling a oceans siren for me to enter, was now about to take me, my precious board, and all my organs, and give them a taliking to. Really, really, loud.
Down to the bottom, up back over the falls, down again. Time stopped. Calm. Remember - always remain calm. If you panic, you will use your air, and then, ....youre fucked. Capital "F" The leash of my board, I could feel, was stretching to the max. I hoped it held. Eternity raced on. This bastard was not releasing me. Why? Currents, torrents of water, pushed and pulled. Fuck. Dragged. Now, I was being dragged. Fuck. My board has got to be tombstoning now. (meaning - my leash is attached to my ankle, but I am under water, the board stright up on the surface, hence - like a tombstone) Fuckity. Fuck. Fuck. Where the fuck is the surface? grab my leash. follow it. Fuck. I am outta air. Fuck. Dont panic. Fuck. Leash. Surface. Air. Blue. Everywhere at once. Oh shit. Fuck.
I panicked.
I gave up.
Truly, I thought I was dead. I pulled for the surface, I pulled again. I let go of the leash. I pulled to the surface. And again. I gave up. Nothing raced in my mind. Beaten. Beaten, beaten. Foam. Seafoam. Surface. Air. Calm. No waves. Churning water. I was over in the area known as the toilet bowl, a graveyard. I had survived. I did not deserve to.
I panicked.
Audacity. Never will panic again. Waves. Waves of consequence. They give you something that no one, no man, no being can ever take away from you.
Aloha. Peace.
"3 o'clock in the morning courage" - Stolen from a Dave Parmenter article in Surfer Magazine. Dave is a great shaper, (meaning for non-surf types, he builds works of art that are called surfboards) an amazing writer, and was married to Rell Sunn, one of the most full of aloha women these islands have ever known. Rell was one of the best surfers, ever. Want to know more? Google 'em.
The quote is from the start of a piece on what flows through a surfers mind before the challenge of a new day begins. You already know there will be surf. You know it will be big. You are faced with the reality check of are the balls brassy, big enough? It stays with me to remind me of the need I have in surfing, and in the firehouse to stay strong, be not afraid, go out, conquer.
It simply means something takes alot of balls. Not just man kind balls, but guts. Wahine (women) have it. Ever tried to give birth? Why is it men take on stunts like car racing, sky-diving, surfing, death teasing challenges? We do those things becuse we are not the chosen ones. We will NEVER bring life into this world. We get the fun part, but not the work. Nothing is, or will have the challenge of the birth process. No man has balls big enough. So we go and prove ourselves, that we are equal to this challenge, by taking risks (see we are not afraid, meek woman!) , working to the bone, tempting the fates. All just to try to raise our status to that of the life-givers.
Waves of consequence. You see, surfing is a patient sport. Not everyday is great, perfect, off-shore breeze conditions. True believers stick around for the long run. The shit days. The cold days. The flat days. My good friend SK, he surfs. He is paranoid/hypocondriac. He is a good Joe. He is a bit on the cautious side. For me, I surf with abandon. It is my freedom, my place. I always like to take SK out for something that is a bit out of the comfort zone. Reason? you gotta live. You cant hide on the shoulder, waiting for the easier waves. You just gotta charge. How would you know wether or not you will make a macker wave unless you try?
And you know when they are coming. Years in the water of Mother Ocean preps you. Read the signs, that horizon that seemed 13 miles away, is now looking to be a bit less than around the block. Its coming. Right to you. A blue cobalt badland, millions of gallons of salt water, primed, tired from miles of travel, waiting to explode down the line of the reef your waiting at, timing to explode its energy on or with, you.
Put that fear away boy, 'cause your ass is grass if you dont go. Not only will you get pounded if you are not ready, you wont get shit from the others in the line-up. You better have some guts to put it on the line. Chicken-shits wont be allowed on this playground. If you cant handle the worst thing possible happening to you out there, get on the beach. Surf line-ups can be vicious. Everyone wants to be the top dog in this kennel. Whining pups will be eaten, alive. I have seen local bruddahs physically grab guys, take them out if the water, and tell them "you will not go back out". Localisim? You bet. Safety, thats the important part. Some clown out there in the way is more dangerous to others as well as themselves.
Waves come, you go, you survive the limits pushed. You take from that a bit more of life. The sun shines a bit brighter, the day crisper, the water a tad more refreshing.
Going to the brink. Anyone who surfs, who surfs long enough, has this tale.
Haleiwa. Winter. 10 feet hawaiian style (20 ft+ faces of the waves) Probably the biggest day, gnarliest conditions I have been out in. Dawn on the North Shore. (Not the fucking movie, OK?) The real, living breathing, gonna kick your ass, North Shore. It is an hour drive from my home. Not long by mainland standards, but island style, it is a eternity. 'specially when you know its macking. Get there and it is huge. Haleiwa has an angry, angry current it pulls continually. If you are outta place, so long, adios. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. I know this is the upper end of my ability. It doesnt help that I ride 9 ft longboards to begin with. But she is sooooo inviting. The rights (my backside) are just cranking, feathering, and hollow tubes of water are spitting with abandon. ( OK - note- surfers are either regular foot - Left foot forward, OR Goofy foot - Right foot forward - I, of course, am a Goofy foot, thereby explainig WTF i mean by backside) So on the coming morning, out to the water I paddle. My fucking chest is bouncing on the deck. I try to breathe, relax, play a tune over and over in my head. The arena is littered with few this morning. Maybe 6 guys out. Small, compact crowd for this perfect of a morning. Converse with the crew out - "sets about 10 minutes apart, bro", "get like, 8 waves in a set, but da last one, whooooo, cuz, she boardering on 'bout 12 feet". Whoooo, is right. That is some frequent, big, killer surf.
Catch a few, pushing 8+. rhythm starts to set in. Comfort zone has been breached, and a new level attained. Strange calmness has invaded the heart - the pounding has subsided to a lite ...pulse. The pulse of my life. The day. The timing of the waves. I pass a few early waves to the bros lines up better, more inside, more on the peak, sharing never felt so good. Hoots around the line-up. I can see the horizon closing. No one else near. This beast, this animal coming, is mine. And it had my name on it. And it was written in Las Vegas neon. The specfics were about 11, 12 feet. Thick. Standing up way outside, inviting me to go. I went. The drop down the face went smooth, lined up 20 feet in fromt of me, nothing but a 2 story building, ready to unfold a crystalline dream of a tube. God, I thought, this is perfect. Perfection, tho' nice, is unattainable.
As soon as I caught my rail trying to draw my line, I knew I was toast. Buttered. This wall of water that 1 second before was calling a oceans siren for me to enter, was now about to take me, my precious board, and all my organs, and give them a taliking to. Really, really, loud.
Down to the bottom, up back over the falls, down again. Time stopped. Calm. Remember - always remain calm. If you panic, you will use your air, and then, ....youre fucked. Capital "F" The leash of my board, I could feel, was stretching to the max. I hoped it held. Eternity raced on. This bastard was not releasing me. Why? Currents, torrents of water, pushed and pulled. Fuck. Dragged. Now, I was being dragged. Fuck. My board has got to be tombstoning now. (meaning - my leash is attached to my ankle, but I am under water, the board stright up on the surface, hence - like a tombstone) Fuckity. Fuck. Fuck. Where the fuck is the surface? grab my leash. follow it. Fuck. I am outta air. Fuck. Dont panic. Fuck. Leash. Surface. Air. Blue. Everywhere at once. Oh shit. Fuck.
I panicked.
I gave up.
Truly, I thought I was dead. I pulled for the surface, I pulled again. I let go of the leash. I pulled to the surface. And again. I gave up. Nothing raced in my mind. Beaten. Beaten, beaten. Foam. Seafoam. Surface. Air. Calm. No waves. Churning water. I was over in the area known as the toilet bowl, a graveyard. I had survived. I did not deserve to.
I panicked.
Audacity. Never will panic again. Waves. Waves of consequence. They give you something that no one, no man, no being can ever take away from you.
Aloha. Peace.
16.7.05
Peanutbutter waffles
Used to really dig peanut butter waffles with Maple syrup. Ono (delicious), Sorry if my occasional drop of regular english gets in anyones way of reading the tired drivel here. Try to always put the english equivilent of what the fuck I am trying to say...Sorry if it irritates- like sand in your shorts, per se. (better than sand in the vasaline)
Waffles - who invented that shit? Werent happy with pancakes, were we? Lets put some texture to that food, why not? Kinda wanta know the history on that one. Irrelevant, yeah?
Its late in Aloha land. Quiet at the station so far, and yet along way too go. Back to Hotel Hell on the 'morrow.
There is a bumpage on the buoy readings from the South, gimme some swell mother ocean, been a good bro. Nothing would be finer than some "waves of consequence"... Will delve into the status of that, soon. Much meaning, and 3'oclock in the morning courage will be expressed.
How bad do you want it? What will you give?
Most of all, what to you gain from it?
Aloha, it is a fragrant, humid, starfilled cloudless night.
Peace.
Waffles - who invented that shit? Werent happy with pancakes, were we? Lets put some texture to that food, why not? Kinda wanta know the history on that one. Irrelevant, yeah?
Its late in Aloha land. Quiet at the station so far, and yet along way too go. Back to Hotel Hell on the 'morrow.
There is a bumpage on the buoy readings from the South, gimme some swell mother ocean, been a good bro. Nothing would be finer than some "waves of consequence"... Will delve into the status of that, soon. Much meaning, and 3'oclock in the morning courage will be expressed.
How bad do you want it? What will you give?
Most of all, what to you gain from it?
Aloha, it is a fragrant, humid, starfilled cloudless night.
Peace.
15.7.05
Spare Change / Sensible Shoes
Got in the water for a fast one. Too short, small waves, windy.
Firehouse was all too quiet, bets are on that tomorrow will be cranking - Saturday. Get those running shoes on. Speaking of shoes, time for me t'get some new treads fo' sure. 5 years of running, hiking, volleyball, have the present pair crying for retirement. Sensible shoes, that wear well will be acquired. Which brings up- WTF do I need shoes for anyway? I friggin' hate 'em. First 5 years of grade school, I never ever wore ANY. Beat the shit outta my paws, yeah. but what good Hawaiian doesnt? (insert racicist comment on mental ability of natives here) Good feet double as swim fins, IMHO. The wider the better, the flatter the more kick you get. How the hell do keiki (children) survive now-a-days? Sweet plumeria blossoms, they all have 100 dollar treads on the feet, for what? You dont get to feel the crisp grass on your heels, the hot asphalt burn your phalanges, the fun of going to emergency for a tetnus shot. What fun are they having? And who the hell told tourists to wear shoes at the beach? WTF is up with that? What the hell? You paid to feel the sand, moron!! Auwe! (disgust, amazement) Ok, rant over.
Ran into the local Macy's to pay Dear C's Credit card bill on the way to Hotel Hell this afternoon. Had a intersting exchange 2X in 'bout 2 minutes. First, the line at the checkout was backed up. Oh well. I got extra time and patience available, no big deal. This little Filipino lady/sales clerk calls me over to her section to pay. "Cum ober here yung boy", ( making my cockles warm) "Ewe wanto pay your billll?" "Mai deeeepatment is Polo, ober here, you cum, you pay ober here", "No wait, cum now"... Little old Filipina ladies. How the hell cant you "lub dem"? She was rattling on 1/2 Ilocano 1/2 English. At Hotel Hell, I work with many, MANY filipino workers. Almost all are pretty cool, albeit a skoshi (small) bit on the "not my job" stance. But this sweety made my day. "I werk ober here in POLO, I sell POLO, ewe ask me, I know POLO." ( I didnt have the heart to explain to her that seeing me buy POLO would be the last thing that this earth would see) So I say "Aunty, (term of endearment to any female older than you not related) How you figger, I gonna buy POLO?, No mo' surf shorts, Tshirts, I not going wear 'em!" " Just gotta pay mama's credit card"
So Aunty smiles and with the 3 missing teeth, it was a sight, she did the payment, and as I was leaving she says again - " Eye no Polo, ebreeting, well, maybeeee not ebreeting, but I no Polo!!"
"You go, aunty, you go."
So I am leaving all warm and fuzzy, this Mama Sita making me laugh when I was feeling fairly irritated. Thanks Aunty. So I go out the door, and from behind this young girl says (kind of loud) "Dont be offended, but can I ask you something?"
I mean WTF was going on IN that store?
She proceeds to ask me what my shirt size is, how tall I am, how much I weigh, (183, thankyouverymuch, 185, when wet) 'cause she need to buy a b-day gift for her friend who is about my size. Cute younger girl, but I almost couldnt help but laugh out loud over her thinking I would be offended, I thought she was going to be pissed or something, or mistook me for some asswipe who hurt/abused/dumped/whatever her.
Then for some god-knows-why reason, she tells me her friend has diabetes, is overweight, might be going to Iraq, nineyards and a whole lotta what-the-fuck???? look from me.
Nice 'tho, and my journey into the weekend bizarreness has begun.
Aloha from paradise, where who knows what the hell is coming up next.
Peace. ( and sheeeee nose POLO!)
Firehouse was all too quiet, bets are on that tomorrow will be cranking - Saturday. Get those running shoes on. Speaking of shoes, time for me t'get some new treads fo' sure. 5 years of running, hiking, volleyball, have the present pair crying for retirement. Sensible shoes, that wear well will be acquired. Which brings up- WTF do I need shoes for anyway? I friggin' hate 'em. First 5 years of grade school, I never ever wore ANY. Beat the shit outta my paws, yeah. but what good Hawaiian doesnt? (insert racicist comment on mental ability of natives here) Good feet double as swim fins, IMHO. The wider the better, the flatter the more kick you get. How the hell do keiki (children) survive now-a-days? Sweet plumeria blossoms, they all have 100 dollar treads on the feet, for what? You dont get to feel the crisp grass on your heels, the hot asphalt burn your phalanges, the fun of going to emergency for a tetnus shot. What fun are they having? And who the hell told tourists to wear shoes at the beach? WTF is up with that? What the hell? You paid to feel the sand, moron!! Auwe! (disgust, amazement) Ok, rant over.
Ran into the local Macy's to pay Dear C's Credit card bill on the way to Hotel Hell this afternoon. Had a intersting exchange 2X in 'bout 2 minutes. First, the line at the checkout was backed up. Oh well. I got extra time and patience available, no big deal. This little Filipino lady/sales clerk calls me over to her section to pay. "Cum ober here yung boy", ( making my cockles warm) "Ewe wanto pay your billll?" "Mai deeeepatment is Polo, ober here, you cum, you pay ober here", "No wait, cum now"... Little old Filipina ladies. How the hell cant you "lub dem"? She was rattling on 1/2 Ilocano 1/2 English. At Hotel Hell, I work with many, MANY filipino workers. Almost all are pretty cool, albeit a skoshi (small) bit on the "not my job" stance. But this sweety made my day. "I werk ober here in POLO, I sell POLO, ewe ask me, I know POLO." ( I didnt have the heart to explain to her that seeing me buy POLO would be the last thing that this earth would see) So I say "Aunty, (term of endearment to any female older than you not related) How you figger, I gonna buy POLO?, No mo' surf shorts, Tshirts, I not going wear 'em!" " Just gotta pay mama's credit card"
So Aunty smiles and with the 3 missing teeth, it was a sight, she did the payment, and as I was leaving she says again - " Eye no Polo, ebreeting, well, maybeeee not ebreeting, but I no Polo!!"
"You go, aunty, you go."
So I am leaving all warm and fuzzy, this Mama Sita making me laugh when I was feeling fairly irritated. Thanks Aunty. So I go out the door, and from behind this young girl says (kind of loud) "Dont be offended, but can I ask you something?"
I mean WTF was going on IN that store?
She proceeds to ask me what my shirt size is, how tall I am, how much I weigh, (183, thankyouverymuch, 185, when wet) 'cause she need to buy a b-day gift for her friend who is about my size. Cute younger girl, but I almost couldnt help but laugh out loud over her thinking I would be offended, I thought she was going to be pissed or something, or mistook me for some asswipe who hurt/abused/dumped/whatever her.
Then for some god-knows-why reason, she tells me her friend has diabetes, is overweight, might be going to Iraq, nineyards and a whole lotta what-the-fuck???? look from me.
Nice 'tho, and my journey into the weekend bizarreness has begun.
Aloha from paradise, where who knows what the hell is coming up next.
Peace. ( and sheeeee nose POLO!)
13.7.05
5 Star Hotel.....2 Star guests
So I come to work as usual, every day I have off from the firehouse, to this sanitorium of human decay that is Waikiki. Beautiful, sundrenched, warm and lovely. Coated with the body oils and oilings of millions of mid-western bovines that crawled outta the John Deere, just in time to see the sunset, and quaff a Mai-Tai.
Not.
A 5 star esort such as the pink lady is, regales a clientle that is, say, continental. As in - breakfast. 2 croissants, a cup a Joe, and splash the OJ in ya face, baby.
IE- Cheap rich fucks.
I always forget to genuflect before the almightys that show their fine, impeccable, lack of taste, class, or style. Example - bitch about 13 dollar burgers. WTF? I'd be bitching about the $500 a-night room, meself. But, hey, Fuck 'Em.
Some are great, yes. Nice folks, considerate, thankful. Easy to show Aloha to.
And then there are the demons. Oh dear God, where on earth do these retards come from? What rocky form did they crawl out from under?
More fun.
Not.
A 5 star esort such as the pink lady is, regales a clientle that is, say, continental. As in - breakfast. 2 croissants, a cup a Joe, and splash the OJ in ya face, baby.
IE- Cheap rich fucks.
I always forget to genuflect before the almightys that show their fine, impeccable, lack of taste, class, or style. Example - bitch about 13 dollar burgers. WTF? I'd be bitching about the $500 a-night room, meself. But, hey, Fuck 'Em.
Some are great, yes. Nice folks, considerate, thankful. Easy to show Aloha to.
And then there are the demons. Oh dear God, where on earth do these retards come from? What rocky form did they crawl out from under?
More fun.
Promotional Call
Got the good news this morning, F2 called while I was registering Mai-Mai for 8th grade. Perfect timing. In the cafe, with 200 pre-teens and new teens hollering and gabbing. Usually F2 is the hatchet man. So at first, a deep dark cloud was forming over my head. Most of the time he is the guy that calls to tell you you DIDNT get promoted. I could literally feel my sweat glands open up. As soon as the phone rang, I looked at the caller ID, and did not recognize the #. The he said his spiel, I went from who the hell? to Oh shit its F2, to him saying "I've got good news" in about two thirds of a second. Talk about your rollercoaster. No assignments yet, so wait some more is all I can do.
Back to the station tomorrow, start the cycle again. Worked in the yard all day today , and at Hotel Hell now. Have had 1 day off this month, that being the interview day, and 1 day last month. That was June 3. Surfed a total of about 10 days all the past 2 months. Total bullshit.
Ah, patience. The rewards will come,.........I sure fricking hope so.
Back to the station tomorrow, start the cycle again. Worked in the yard all day today , and at Hotel Hell now. Have had 1 day off this month, that being the interview day, and 1 day last month. That was June 3. Surfed a total of about 10 days all the past 2 months. Total bullshit.
Ah, patience. The rewards will come,.........I sure fricking hope so.
12.7.05
http://www.streetdoc.net/index.php/trackback/1796/NT1VAn14/
Any comments? EMS folk? What do you feel on Fire based EMS care/EMS care take over by Fire? Anyone care? I disagree that we (fire) dont want to do EMS/PTX care. Maybe because of our island "style" its isolation, that I am proud to run w/ EMS - they teach me, i help/assist them. With over 40 stations, we do get there faster than the Ambi's - C & C ambi' s are numbered less than 10 in town....
Any comments? EMS folk? What do you feel on Fire based EMS care/EMS care take over by Fire? Anyone care? I disagree that we (fire) dont want to do EMS/PTX care. Maybe because of our island "style" its isolation, that I am proud to run w/ EMS - they teach me, i help/assist them. With over 40 stations, we do get there faster than the Ambi's - C & C ambi' s are numbered less than 10 in town....
Waterbaby - True Aquarius
Since there has been no time to surf of late, and demands of time are at premium prices, all I can do is write about the stoke of surfing. When Yours truly was a small fish, I was scared shitless of the water. Dont really know why, just was, I guess. Prolly 'cause Grandpa & Dad used to toss my scared ass into the deep water back in small kid time. Nothing abusive, they didnt know I was shittin' bricks.
Used to go to bodysurf alot when small, as well. Sean Paige and I would ride our Scwinns to Sandy Beach at dawn (5 miles 1 way) And check out the sunrise and slam some waves. The change from fear to awe came when Sean & I were out on a rather big day. ( When you're small, I guess anything is a big day) Shittin' bricks on the shore, Sean was pumped to go out. We were all of like 12 y/o. Being my best friend, I told him how scared I was. True friend, he did not belittle me, but rather took it upon himself to make sense of it- The whole thing, the surf, the fear, the stoke, the challenge, the rewards.
He made it clear that fear was good. Only and idiot didnt have fear somewhere buried in a deep seated ganglion in them. That fear was respect. Respect for the ocean, nature, life in the waters, others. The stoke- how good it felt to harness the power of the waves, the whole ocean unfolding on you. The challenge - how success would come only after many failures, but to learn from them, and grow. The rewards - taking from your surf session fleeting glimpses of Gods perfection - his/her way of showing us the beauty in simple, natural highs.
He did all that around 5 in the morning. From that day on - I have been an addict. Certified addict. Nothing - (next to seeing my children come into the world) comes close. Companies use trite comments like "only a surfer knows the feeling" True as it is, is not true. You can not put into words what the experience is like to someone who doesnt participate, so how would you know to speak it? Surfers can talk about it, the sessions the waves, the conditions. But you can never really give it accurate.
It is only you and the wave. No team sport. There are waves and sights and sounds that I can begin to describe. I can try, but wont do it justice. Smells of the ocean in the morning fresh limu (seaweed) salty air, wind, shells, fish...It all just becomes a blur 'cause the focus is waves. Gifts from storms hundreds, thousands of miles away. Waves that began a march to our shores miles ago, now release the travel on our reef, our time, our session of surf. Lucky shit I am to be there.
Altho' recently, aint had time to shit worth a dollar, nor get out into ol' Mother Ocean.
She will wait tho', and take me back into her arms, warm cobalt blue waters, and I will rejoice at the return.
Corny, sorry.
Aloha.
Used to go to bodysurf alot when small, as well. Sean Paige and I would ride our Scwinns to Sandy Beach at dawn (5 miles 1 way) And check out the sunrise and slam some waves. The change from fear to awe came when Sean & I were out on a rather big day. ( When you're small, I guess anything is a big day) Shittin' bricks on the shore, Sean was pumped to go out. We were all of like 12 y/o. Being my best friend, I told him how scared I was. True friend, he did not belittle me, but rather took it upon himself to make sense of it- The whole thing, the surf, the fear, the stoke, the challenge, the rewards.
He made it clear that fear was good. Only and idiot didnt have fear somewhere buried in a deep seated ganglion in them. That fear was respect. Respect for the ocean, nature, life in the waters, others. The stoke- how good it felt to harness the power of the waves, the whole ocean unfolding on you. The challenge - how success would come only after many failures, but to learn from them, and grow. The rewards - taking from your surf session fleeting glimpses of Gods perfection - his/her way of showing us the beauty in simple, natural highs.
He did all that around 5 in the morning. From that day on - I have been an addict. Certified addict. Nothing - (next to seeing my children come into the world) comes close. Companies use trite comments like "only a surfer knows the feeling" True as it is, is not true. You can not put into words what the experience is like to someone who doesnt participate, so how would you know to speak it? Surfers can talk about it, the sessions the waves, the conditions. But you can never really give it accurate.
It is only you and the wave. No team sport. There are waves and sights and sounds that I can begin to describe. I can try, but wont do it justice. Smells of the ocean in the morning fresh limu (seaweed) salty air, wind, shells, fish...It all just becomes a blur 'cause the focus is waves. Gifts from storms hundreds, thousands of miles away. Waves that began a march to our shores miles ago, now release the travel on our reef, our time, our session of surf. Lucky shit I am to be there.
Altho' recently, aint had time to shit worth a dollar, nor get out into ol' Mother Ocean.
She will wait tho', and take me back into her arms, warm cobalt blue waters, and I will rejoice at the return.
Corny, sorry.
Aloha.
Drowning articles
http://www.honoluluadvertiser.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20050712/NEWS/507120332/1001/NEWS
http://starbulletin.com/2005/07/12/news/index7.html
http://starbulletin.com/2005/07/12/news/index7.html
11.7.05
Gotta Surf.
Damn i got to get in the water, brain rot, ya know. Sets in on these long-ass dry spells of mine ( mind).
Damn it is muggy as shit tonight, hope for a more informative post tomorrow, thanks for the comment, Tookong.
Damn.
Damn.
Damn.
(Last negative - I friggin hate ants.)
Positive - My middle son gave the greatest comment a keiki (child) could give a kupuna (elder) -
He said - "My Mom & Dad would never get divorced - they are each others best friend"
Thought that was pretty cool, being that some moronic family asshole was insinuating me & Lady C were splitting.
Yeah, right. I am 46, I have been dating her since 13....... WTF?.....I may be stupid, but I isnt dumb.
Bwahahaha.
Fricking surf.
Damn it is muggy as shit tonight, hope for a more informative post tomorrow, thanks for the comment, Tookong.
Damn.
Damn.
Damn.
(Last negative - I friggin hate ants.)
Positive - My middle son gave the greatest comment a keiki (child) could give a kupuna (elder) -
He said - "My Mom & Dad would never get divorced - they are each others best friend"
Thought that was pretty cool, being that some moronic family asshole was insinuating me & Lady C were splitting.
Yeah, right. I am 46, I have been dating her since 13....... WTF?.....I may be stupid, but I isnt dumb.
Bwahahaha.
Fricking surf.
10.7.05
+++ If this isnt humor I dont know what is +++
http://entertainment.msn.com/music/article.aspx?news=196248
My eclectic taste in music is done 1 better...
I can picture it now redneck-reggae festivals sprouting up all over the God forsaken midwest.
My eclectic taste in music is done 1 better...
I can picture it now redneck-reggae festivals sprouting up all over the God forsaken midwest.
I Do Believe I Need A Surf...My Gills Are Dry
Exhausted. Probably the only word I can use with confidence today. Mentally drained from quite the busy cycle at the firehouse. 2 drownings, promotional interview, home improvement shitski to do, Mai-mai on vacation, K no job, no brain, getting stoned, ....Hrumph! Dear heart C and spaz-o-meter hormones/MENopause testing the intestinal fortitude of this Hawaiian.
Death. Needless death. I cant think of anything more testing on my psychi than the calls we go on where death is needless. In the past decade, I see the images in my minds eye probably too often. The first cardiac call, the Tutu (grandparent) lying on the floor, trying to recall my training, be professional, carry out the task at hand (gee, save a life?) sweating buckets, performing compressions on her frail body, prepping for the AED. Hearing the wails of family. Focusing on my duty. Breaking her ribs with the compressions. Clearing the vomit so the MICT's can intubate her. Shocking her. The jerk of her small frame coming to rest aside my knees. Loading her, assisting the ambulance crew with packaging her into the Ambi.
Then reading the obituary 2 days later.
Decade. Neil Young, greatest hits compilation. All these calls, certain ones, all of them, none of them. Dig a small hole in the grey matter, and plant the images forever. Rise again when you really dont want it. Middle of the night. Driving down the road. Black humor. Darkest black. Purple, it is soooo fucking black. Fire victims. Crispy critters. Cold shit, yeah? Not pretty, not human looking. Vacant, blank stares right into your living soul, blaming you, cursing you, from somewhere you will someday be. Suicide off the bridge of the freeway. 19 years old. Your image is stuck, plastered in the area right behind my right eye. The same eye that your swan dive off onto the hard cold morning concrete had to see. Looking at and caring for your twisted frame, your crushed head, your brain- the reason you jumped- shattered all to bits in the Hawaiian morning. Crimson red of the blood you lost.
Death. Senseless, avoidable, careless death.
Guess I really, really need to go surfing.
Hug your loved ones.
Death. Needless death. I cant think of anything more testing on my psychi than the calls we go on where death is needless. In the past decade, I see the images in my minds eye probably too often. The first cardiac call, the Tutu (grandparent) lying on the floor, trying to recall my training, be professional, carry out the task at hand (gee, save a life?) sweating buckets, performing compressions on her frail body, prepping for the AED. Hearing the wails of family. Focusing on my duty. Breaking her ribs with the compressions. Clearing the vomit so the MICT's can intubate her. Shocking her. The jerk of her small frame coming to rest aside my knees. Loading her, assisting the ambulance crew with packaging her into the Ambi.
Then reading the obituary 2 days later.
Decade. Neil Young, greatest hits compilation. All these calls, certain ones, all of them, none of them. Dig a small hole in the grey matter, and plant the images forever. Rise again when you really dont want it. Middle of the night. Driving down the road. Black humor. Darkest black. Purple, it is soooo fucking black. Fire victims. Crispy critters. Cold shit, yeah? Not pretty, not human looking. Vacant, blank stares right into your living soul, blaming you, cursing you, from somewhere you will someday be. Suicide off the bridge of the freeway. 19 years old. Your image is stuck, plastered in the area right behind my right eye. The same eye that your swan dive off onto the hard cold morning concrete had to see. Looking at and caring for your twisted frame, your crushed head, your brain- the reason you jumped- shattered all to bits in the Hawaiian morning. Crimson red of the blood you lost.
Death. Senseless, avoidable, careless death.
Guess I really, really need to go surfing.
Hug your loved ones.
Interview / 2 drownings out of 3 shifts worked
Interview went well. Seems as tho' everyone felt their interview went well. We sit, and we wait. Phone will ring soon enuf to say yay or nay to a promotion. Did what I could, so nothing else but wait for awhile.
Another drowning yesterday, right around the corner from "spitting caves". This time at the "point" right next to China Walls one of my favorite surf spots. Right at dusk, so light was precious in the beggining. Victim had been down in the water (under) for 10 min. by the time we got there. The crew from HK station got there 5 min before us. So there was a chance, but none of the witness' could give a accurate spot as to where she was last seen.
17 y/o girl from Colorado. Visiting relatives. With friends at the jump off area by the wall at Portlock point. The surf was running about 3-4 ft Hawaiian Scale, ('bout 6-8 foot faces) The jump area she seems to have gone in at is too far in for anyone with knowledge of the spot to have gone in at. The right area would be about 20 yards further out towards the ocean. The wave breaks, and refracts in toward the wall inside that 20 yd area. So if you are trying to scramble up the cliff, (10 ft high) and a wave comes, you are toast. Anyone who has been there before would know this, so all I can guess is that the people she was with were not aware, and that cost her her life.
Part of the rescue problem was the witness' inability to give a consistent location as to where she was last seen. This wasted valuable time spent searching a larger area than absolutely necessary. Traumatic, yes, but assitance could have made a difference, after 10 minutes, this was body recovery only. The helicopter & rescue guys spotted her about 30 yds inside of where she was last seen. 5 ft deep of water, her hair had wrapped around a coral head, and trapped her body on the bottom, causing her more injury after death.
Any loss hurts. The worst is what if, and just maybe. I cant what if myself to death about it. I would go nuts. It is tragic that this happened, the worst is, common sense, and thinking before you act, could have prevented it.
Said it before, and I will say it again -
If you cant handle the worst possible thing that could happen to you out in the ocean, and you doubt your abilities in the conditions that the ocean shows, DONT GO OUT.
Yes, a tragic loss of life, but there was also about 15 others risking their lives to make a hopeful rescue.
Another drowning yesterday, right around the corner from "spitting caves". This time at the "point" right next to China Walls one of my favorite surf spots. Right at dusk, so light was precious in the beggining. Victim had been down in the water (under) for 10 min. by the time we got there. The crew from HK station got there 5 min before us. So there was a chance, but none of the witness' could give a accurate spot as to where she was last seen.
17 y/o girl from Colorado. Visiting relatives. With friends at the jump off area by the wall at Portlock point. The surf was running about 3-4 ft Hawaiian Scale, ('bout 6-8 foot faces) The jump area she seems to have gone in at is too far in for anyone with knowledge of the spot to have gone in at. The right area would be about 20 yards further out towards the ocean. The wave breaks, and refracts in toward the wall inside that 20 yd area. So if you are trying to scramble up the cliff, (10 ft high) and a wave comes, you are toast. Anyone who has been there before would know this, so all I can guess is that the people she was with were not aware, and that cost her her life.
Part of the rescue problem was the witness' inability to give a consistent location as to where she was last seen. This wasted valuable time spent searching a larger area than absolutely necessary. Traumatic, yes, but assitance could have made a difference, after 10 minutes, this was body recovery only. The helicopter & rescue guys spotted her about 30 yds inside of where she was last seen. 5 ft deep of water, her hair had wrapped around a coral head, and trapped her body on the bottom, causing her more injury after death.
Any loss hurts. The worst is what if, and just maybe. I cant what if myself to death about it. I would go nuts. It is tragic that this happened, the worst is, common sense, and thinking before you act, could have prevented it.
Said it before, and I will say it again -
If you cant handle the worst possible thing that could happen to you out in the ocean, and you doubt your abilities in the conditions that the ocean shows, DONT GO OUT.
Yes, a tragic loss of life, but there was also about 15 others risking their lives to make a hopeful rescue.
9.7.05
Interview Finished
I can breathe again. Promo interview pau, (finished) went fairly well not too much rough questions, but stress personified. Time to study again for the next test on July 23. Same day as the surfboard auction. Will post link to surf auction soon.
Thankx again Mom & Dad & crew for the prayers.
Thankx again Mom & Dad & crew for the prayers.
8.7.05
2 hour countdown
2 hours till ineterview.....nervous hawaiian here.
'till after - Peace.
Hope it goes well as i can do.
Thanks for the prayers, Mom!
'till after - Peace.
Hope it goes well as i can do.
Thanks for the prayers, Mom!
6.7.05
Writer Not On Crack...Photographer, ..maybe.
Long shift yesterday. Hiker rescue by Koko Crater, no problems. Couple hours earlier, swimmer in distress off million + homes off HKai & MBay, 29 y/o along with numerous friends jumping into the water off spitting caves. "Spitting Caves" is an area not to be fool hearty with. Large open cavern near deep water drop off into the deep blue Pacific. Lotsa deaths there. Grew up right by the spot. Cliff-jumped when young and stupid. Always on winter time calm water days. Note- its summer, it was rough ocean conditions, and the victim was a visitor from the mainland. This is called a recipe for disaster. The victim jumped into the water from the cliffs, 50ft + drop. If you hit the water wrong, you will get injured. Needless to say he didnt survive the day. His friend tried to jump in to assist him, but could not keep him afloat. He was rescued, about 300 yds down current from where we recovered the friends body.
The young ladies with them, it was sad to hear them wailing and crying. A resident of the homes near-by ( who see this happen way too often) came and graciuosly took the girls to the docks at the Bay. EMS and our guys were standing by in hopes of reviving him. Not to be, he was under for 20 plus minutes by the time we located him and got him to the rescue sled. Water safety guys, (Ryan, & crew) did an awesome job with our water guys to locate and bring him up. 50ft down, 100 plus yards off the cliffs. The guys free dived down to retrieve him, tag teamed him to the surface in some rough open ocean conditions, and took the Jet-Ski to motor him into the docks at the Bay. Chief & I took the rescued friend with our guys to the docks to reunite him with the girls. The sadness continued there, so sad to have victims so young.
Be careful in this paradise ocean, it will bite. If you have ANY doubt, Dont go out.
The pix are a hodge-podge of the golf tourney, Job2 crap (except the Ox Tail soup....whooo yeah!!!) ... Early AM grossness of yourstruly, assorted crap from the hiker rescue.
2 days till promotional interview, study Hawaiian, study!!!!!
4AM structure fire ...no fire, but saw beautiful sunrise sooo positive start to the day....
The young ladies with them, it was sad to hear them wailing and crying. A resident of the homes near-by ( who see this happen way too often) came and graciuosly took the girls to the docks at the Bay. EMS and our guys were standing by in hopes of reviving him. Not to be, he was under for 20 plus minutes by the time we located him and got him to the rescue sled. Water safety guys, (Ryan, & crew) did an awesome job with our water guys to locate and bring him up. 50ft down, 100 plus yards off the cliffs. The guys free dived down to retrieve him, tag teamed him to the surface in some rough open ocean conditions, and took the Jet-Ski to motor him into the docks at the Bay. Chief & I took the rescued friend with our guys to the docks to reunite him with the girls. The sadness continued there, so sad to have victims so young.
Be careful in this paradise ocean, it will bite. If you have ANY doubt, Dont go out.
The pix are a hodge-podge of the golf tourney, Job2 crap (except the Ox Tail soup....whooo yeah!!!) ... Early AM grossness of yourstruly, assorted crap from the hiker rescue.
2 days till promotional interview, study Hawaiian, study!!!!!
4AM structure fire ...no fire, but saw beautiful sunrise sooo positive start to the day....
4.7.05
3.7.05
End of the roll of toiletpaper
Negative slant in posting has got to come to an end. Will try to have something of a more positive note somewhere stuffed lengthwise into this drivel I call a blog. But for one last time -
If I didnt have bad luck, I wouldnt have no luck at all
OR - " Why the hell am I the one stuck with the end of the toiletpaper roll?"
Another comment on the situation life throws us, (me, for some God-unkown reason) holding the prime spot of sitting on the crapper, with 2 or 3 sheets of TP left?? Now, sure, once in a while, fine, chalk it up to odds or math staistics, or the blue friggin moon. Not me. I get it all the time. Now at home, Ok, once in awhile I can understand. But nooooooooooo. Every friggin day? What the hell are the odds of that? I love dice, craps, and vegas. This is surreal. Bet on me getting into the shitter, and looking forelorn at the TP dispenser only to find it - END OF ROLL, 2 or 3 SHEETS LEFT, per as usual. You could win a million, cause it is a guarnartee. No kidding. this always happens. Almost every day. I guess I could look at the bright side and feel "hey! my asshole and my plumbing work just fine, thank you!!!" , "I shit well every day!!!", "No colo-rectal-anal problems for me!!" - It is cleaning up that becomes a challenge.
Now before anyone feels the need to say - "asshole! check it before you sit!" I do. That is why I dont have to perform mad yoga moves to get the NEXT ROLL, (which I will inevitably be at the end of) , It is there mocking me, by my side, ( or rear, for that matter) laughing little TP laughs, knowing full well that the end of his TP shelf life will be in my hands. ( bastard!) ...
You say "hey, HM, doesnt your family have common sense enough to refill it when at the end?"
NO.
Sorry, they do not. They feel I believe, as head(!) of the house hold, it is my job, duty, slavewage, to replenish the shitwipes. Got me what sin I commited that got me into this living war with TP.
Mercy, throw me some mercy, please. ' Cause it is about to get worse.
You would think that situation is bad enough, but no again. The crapper gods, in the infinte wisdom they have, decided in some real bizarre-o meeting they must have, to curse me at all times to this dillema. Firehouse - The firehouse ALWAYS has 2 rolls full. Yeah, right. Not me. I could randomly pick any stall in the whole department, and I would find the one that is on the end of its life. W T F ?? Stations that have more than 1 or 2 stalls, you'd figure shit, 1 chance in 6, at best, I will find and sit at , the one with the end in mind.
So, there cant be more to this, can there? Oh no, O meek ones, the best is yet to come. Public restrooms. Gotta love 'em, huh? Who knows what mucus infested ass has sat on the rim or seat you are going to but your posh ass bottom on. So wipe, clean paper, whatever you do to prevent soiling your precious deriere. Why the fuck should I bother? Again, the roll will mock me. Of course, on this wonderful paradise I call home, we have the pleasure of industrail size TP rolls. Like spare tire size rolls. Take that last dime out, 'cause you want to bet that if I gotta shit, every stall will have the end. Every single one. I mean, like 9,000 people can shit wipe off a one roll. How the hell do I always end up with the last 3 slivers of wipeage work?
I bet if i shit in the woods, the trees would all be bare.
Didnt get to surf today either.
Peace.
If I didnt have bad luck, I wouldnt have no luck at all
OR - " Why the hell am I the one stuck with the end of the toiletpaper roll?"
Another comment on the situation life throws us, (me, for some God-unkown reason) holding the prime spot of sitting on the crapper, with 2 or 3 sheets of TP left?? Now, sure, once in a while, fine, chalk it up to odds or math staistics, or the blue friggin moon. Not me. I get it all the time. Now at home, Ok, once in awhile I can understand. But nooooooooooo. Every friggin day? What the hell are the odds of that? I love dice, craps, and vegas. This is surreal. Bet on me getting into the shitter, and looking forelorn at the TP dispenser only to find it - END OF ROLL, 2 or 3 SHEETS LEFT, per as usual. You could win a million, cause it is a guarnartee. No kidding. this always happens. Almost every day. I guess I could look at the bright side and feel "hey! my asshole and my plumbing work just fine, thank you!!!" , "I shit well every day!!!", "No colo-rectal-anal problems for me!!" - It is cleaning up that becomes a challenge.
Now before anyone feels the need to say - "asshole! check it before you sit!" I do. That is why I dont have to perform mad yoga moves to get the NEXT ROLL, (which I will inevitably be at the end of) , It is there mocking me, by my side, ( or rear, for that matter) laughing little TP laughs, knowing full well that the end of his TP shelf life will be in my hands. ( bastard!) ...
You say "hey, HM, doesnt your family have common sense enough to refill it when at the end?"
NO.
Sorry, they do not. They feel I believe, as head(!) of the house hold, it is my job, duty, slavewage, to replenish the shitwipes. Got me what sin I commited that got me into this living war with TP.
Mercy, throw me some mercy, please. ' Cause it is about to get worse.
You would think that situation is bad enough, but no again. The crapper gods, in the infinte wisdom they have, decided in some real bizarre-o meeting they must have, to curse me at all times to this dillema. Firehouse - The firehouse ALWAYS has 2 rolls full. Yeah, right. Not me. I could randomly pick any stall in the whole department, and I would find the one that is on the end of its life. W T F ?? Stations that have more than 1 or 2 stalls, you'd figure shit, 1 chance in 6, at best, I will find and sit at , the one with the end in mind.
So, there cant be more to this, can there? Oh no, O meek ones, the best is yet to come. Public restrooms. Gotta love 'em, huh? Who knows what mucus infested ass has sat on the rim or seat you are going to but your posh ass bottom on. So wipe, clean paper, whatever you do to prevent soiling your precious deriere. Why the fuck should I bother? Again, the roll will mock me. Of course, on this wonderful paradise I call home, we have the pleasure of industrail size TP rolls. Like spare tire size rolls. Take that last dime out, 'cause you want to bet that if I gotta shit, every stall will have the end. Every single one. I mean, like 9,000 people can shit wipe off a one roll. How the hell do I always end up with the last 3 slivers of wipeage work?
I bet if i shit in the woods, the trees would all be bare.
Didnt get to surf today either.
Peace.
Fourth Of July
http://photos1.blogger.com/img/296/2612/1024/sooner.jpg
From post secret. Sure,you read it too. Vouyerism at its best psycho-babble added for taste.
4th brings back good small kid time memories of hanging w/ Sean blowing shit up all day long. No worries, no deadlines,no pressure.
No days like them anynore.
Posted the post secret for my own reasons - minutes seem like hours at times, and when you question what you coulda shoulda mighta done, you're useless, to yourself, to others, so do your best, get over it.
Peace. Happy, Safe 4th. Dont blow shit up.
From post secret. Sure,you read it too. Vouyerism at its best psycho-babble added for taste.
4th brings back good small kid time memories of hanging w/ Sean blowing shit up all day long. No worries, no deadlines,no pressure.
No days like them anynore.
Posted the post secret for my own reasons - minutes seem like hours at times, and when you question what you coulda shoulda mighta done, you're useless, to yourself, to others, so do your best, get over it.
Peace. Happy, Safe 4th. Dont blow shit up.
2.7.05
Golf Fundraiser / He who drinks with fishes / Photos coming soon / Study, Hawaiian, Study!!!!!!!!
Better to have let golf stay the hell away from me. Drinking breaks out on course & Killas home. HM beds early from heat & adukt beverages....
Pictures later.
...................................................................
Pictures later.
...................................................................
29.6.05
No Sharp Objects, Please! / Or how transexuals can play volleyball on the court next to you and be entertaining...
Finished work this AM. Lots on the plate w/ HFD. At the hotel hell now.
Yesterday while the crew was playing volleyball, the court next to our gang ( as it often is) was packed with transexuals, homosexuals, and other assorted gender-benders playing v-ball. I have nothing to say against peoples own choices. Whatever floats your boat, good for you. I am straight ( crooked in the brain) but you like what yo like, and it doesnt bother me a bit. Just dont stare at my ass, Thank you.
Only reason I say anything at all is the juxtaposition of 8 firemen playing a roughhouse game of v-ball (builds teamwork), and the 10-12 "girls/guys/?" next court, and the difference. Me, I find humor anywhere I can. I need it. So hearing the girls,etc...comment and sashay to and fro' is humor to me. it seems so bizarre to have such a opposite group playing right there. And the conversation that differs 'tween the two. Sure most of our crew have the homophobic view, snide comments and such. But in context of the situation, it is pretty funny. Especially when I have a brother in law who is gay as Liberace. So hearing the "girls" comments, and knowing what they are commenting about is funny shit.
A couple of the transgendered types are actually pretty good looking. They could pass for women easily, and do. We wont go into the military guys that fall for the ugly ones here. That is more hilarity than I have time for.
The comments are so opposite, from gender specifics, to sexual inuendos, the range of this shit would fill a book. Most of it was not directed at anyone, so no offense either side. But you know the girls were checking out the guys. And it is hard not to notice the squeals of the girls when they are playing. Funny shit.
There are some straight looking charecters that play with them, so the thought that pops into my head, is WTF is their picadillos? Are they transgendered humpers? Gay? Realted? A wide variety, too, "locals" "haoles" - a.k.a. white folk, african-american ("popolo" - not derogatory)
and others. Fat, skinny, medium. Interesting too is that they always herb out after, and we are drug tested, so who knows if we would test positive from second hand. Hawaiian Buds are potent, and the smell is super sweet.
Nuff of that shit.
Work is work, and that is that. Busting arse for HFD & Chief with all kinda responsibilites. Golf tourney on Friday. More drunk photos soon!
Surf = ZERO
That sucks the most.
Laters.
Yesterday while the crew was playing volleyball, the court next to our gang ( as it often is) was packed with transexuals, homosexuals, and other assorted gender-benders playing v-ball. I have nothing to say against peoples own choices. Whatever floats your boat, good for you. I am straight ( crooked in the brain) but you like what yo like, and it doesnt bother me a bit. Just dont stare at my ass, Thank you.
Only reason I say anything at all is the juxtaposition of 8 firemen playing a roughhouse game of v-ball (builds teamwork), and the 10-12 "girls/guys/?" next court, and the difference. Me, I find humor anywhere I can. I need it. So hearing the girls,etc...comment and sashay to and fro' is humor to me. it seems so bizarre to have such a opposite group playing right there. And the conversation that differs 'tween the two. Sure most of our crew have the homophobic view, snide comments and such. But in context of the situation, it is pretty funny. Especially when I have a brother in law who is gay as Liberace. So hearing the "girls" comments, and knowing what they are commenting about is funny shit.
A couple of the transgendered types are actually pretty good looking. They could pass for women easily, and do. We wont go into the military guys that fall for the ugly ones here. That is more hilarity than I have time for.
The comments are so opposite, from gender specifics, to sexual inuendos, the range of this shit would fill a book. Most of it was not directed at anyone, so no offense either side. But you know the girls were checking out the guys. And it is hard not to notice the squeals of the girls when they are playing. Funny shit.
There are some straight looking charecters that play with them, so the thought that pops into my head, is WTF is their picadillos? Are they transgendered humpers? Gay? Realted? A wide variety, too, "locals" "haoles" - a.k.a. white folk, african-american ("popolo" - not derogatory)
and others. Fat, skinny, medium. Interesting too is that they always herb out after, and we are drug tested, so who knows if we would test positive from second hand. Hawaiian Buds are potent, and the smell is super sweet.
Nuff of that shit.
Work is work, and that is that. Busting arse for HFD & Chief with all kinda responsibilites. Golf tourney on Friday. More drunk photos soon!
Surf = ZERO
That sucks the most.
Laters.
25.6.05
**7 inch extended single / 33RPM / Gimme back my black T-Shirt**
Not a moment goes by when thinking is irrelevant. Ow. That hurts to even think about. Deep, baby, deep as deep can get- thoughts.
The recent spew of BS from C & assorted memebers of the crew have 1 pissed off man living on a island amongst 800,000 others. Psychotic episodes aside, thunder clouds loom over head, aint no breeze, never had a chance to surf, ...Frickin' pissed. Nuf on that.
Someone, somewhere, explain the need for a $200 cell phone. The thing rings, you answer the fucker, and talk into the damn thing. WTF?
Most dark clouds are apart of that - along with assorted dumbass moves. All brought to you via the power of bitching, whining, woman. WTF x2 ?
Back to station 'morrow. Thank God. 24 hours plus away from retardeness...not a word, yeah, but says more than a real word would.
Flower leis in the hotel smell really fricking nice. 1 bright spot to today. At least I am aware enuf to notice 'em. All on the older Kupuna ( elders ) here for a ladies convention. Classy. Nice and classy.
Laters.
The recent spew of BS from C & assorted memebers of the crew have 1 pissed off man living on a island amongst 800,000 others. Psychotic episodes aside, thunder clouds loom over head, aint no breeze, never had a chance to surf, ...Frickin' pissed. Nuf on that.
Someone, somewhere, explain the need for a $200 cell phone. The thing rings, you answer the fucker, and talk into the damn thing. WTF?
Most dark clouds are apart of that - along with assorted dumbass moves. All brought to you via the power of bitching, whining, woman. WTF x2 ?
Back to station 'morrow. Thank God. 24 hours plus away from retardeness...not a word, yeah, but says more than a real word would.
Flower leis in the hotel smell really fricking nice. 1 bright spot to today. At least I am aware enuf to notice 'em. All on the older Kupuna ( elders ) here for a ladies convention. Classy. Nice and classy.
Laters.
24.6.05
Absolute Frustration / Stop Making Sense
Psychotic episode 1 - Get me out of this place.
Psychotic episode 2 - Are you for real? You cant be serious, you did what?
Psychotic episode 3 - Drive 25 miles, dont see a thing, drive back, dont see a thing, how the hell did you not kill yourself/someone else?
Psychotic episode 4 - "Go on, take the money and run"
Psychotic episode 5 - Derogatory term, useless except to piss females off.
Psychotic episode 6 - thefuckingstoveisthesizeitisandthatisthewayitisbecauseicantbe
heretofigureatouteverythingyoumanipulativesnideassedbitch
Psychotic episdoe 1,946.5 - Just waiting, waiting, to go fucking ape-shit crazy. Just. Wait.
Psychotherapy.
Psychotic episode 2 - Are you for real? You cant be serious, you did what?
Psychotic episode 3 - Drive 25 miles, dont see a thing, drive back, dont see a thing, how the hell did you not kill yourself/someone else?
Psychotic episode 4 - "Go on, take the money and run"
Psychotic episode 5 - Derogatory term, useless except to piss females off.
Psychotic episode 6 - thefuckingstoveisthesizeitisandthatisthewayitisbecauseicantbe
heretofigureatouteverythingyoumanipulativesnideassedbitch
Psychotic episdoe 1,946.5 - Just waiting, waiting, to go fucking ape-shit crazy. Just. Wait.
Psychotherapy.
23.6.05
Listed.
The interview list for FF2 came out today.
July 8.
Finally maybe more good than bad for a change.
2 weeks to study and worry, prolly blow a friggin gasket - My own M.O.
July 8.
Finally maybe more good than bad for a change.
2 weeks to study and worry, prolly blow a friggin gasket - My own M.O.
02 Tank blow out, Thoughts on what coulda been
The 02 Tank that blew... And if the occupant did not die behind the entry door, there would have been 3 or 4 of us dead.
When we got there, this apartment was a inferno. The wife was on the floor in the lobby, with a security guard an others doing CPR. Elevator to 2 floors below, and up the stairwell to the firefloor. The 4 of us - Bg*, Youngguy*, J*, Me. Bust the door, cant open it all the way. Victim was behind, blocking movement of the door. Find him, remove him, check, DOA. The worst part was feeling his burnt flesh on his wrists slide under my gloves. Attack w/ hose line. Start to open the door, which had a automatic door closing device on it. Just before we would be opening the door the tank blew. The whole building shook. Threw J* to the floor, and all of us looked and said "what the fuck was that?"Made entry, into what was one of the hottest places i have been in 10 years doing this. Weird, we put a whole shitload of water on it, and there was 20+ O2 bottles in this apartment. Residents were chronic alcoholics, COPD, and chain smokers. Can you say WTF? Sad that a person died, but it runs over and over in my head what woulda been, coulda been if things had been just a minute bit of difference. Oh well.
Came home, I guess that someone, somewhere, was looking out for us. Thanks.
O2 Tank #2 end of entry hallway
More Aloha Drive Fire
This was the one at the end of the hallway, the tiniest mo'fo hallway for the 4 of us to squeeze thru, SCBA's and all the other shit going down.
O2 Tank #2 - Hallway
Aloha Drive Fire
One of the 20 plus O2 tanks that were in the apartment. This was at the end of the entry hall, and when we entered, after the explosion, all you could see was this fucker, silouetted against the flames burning all thru the apartment. Didnt think about it at the time, but WTF prolly would not have been a bad thought. And to think I get paid less than 35K a year to do this. nice to know 2 jobs are needed to survive in paradise, while a ballplayer with a hurt pinky making 300 million cries like a bitch. You can see alot of the other tanks in the fore-back ground. More fun.
22.6.05
Kryptonite Kills Superman, Stocks Rise On The News....
K lost his meager job today. Son #1 lost job. Hawaiianmark tries to remedy with positive re-inforcement. C all over the place emotionally, moody, etc. ( and repeat that etc. for a eternity) No surfing today, surf suppose to build tomorrow. We will see. Buoy reports look so-so. Hard to read 'em, if it is serious swell or just skipping by. Guess we will find out AM 'morrow.
Hard to understand K losing his job. I have been working since 1973, summers, whenever, then for real when we got outta school, and married. Never been fired. Quit a few, but never fired. I cant feel what is going on in his head, so that sucks. Cant be there for him, 'cause I am here at the Hotel, with all the other lemmings. Lemmings, heh.
Guess I am one, too. (Off the cliff with you!!!!)
Firehouse was a killer yesterday, not crisis killer, but killer with work. Going, going, all day. Then basically up all night with the damn full moon, ( never can sleep well with a full moon) & alarms up the yang over the radio. This temporary Chiefs Driver shit is for the birds. Come out list!!!! Frick, long enuf already!
Stillneed to do that photoblog of a day shit. Mai-mai had the digi-cam for a few days, so thats the delay. Gotta work, shit.
Added- Work. Sucks. Big. Fat. Doggy. Dicks.
Computer system (POS terminal) is not taking Credit Cards. Oh Joy. All manually. Wonderful. Numbers up the yin-yang.
Arggg.
Hard to understand K losing his job. I have been working since 1973, summers, whenever, then for real when we got outta school, and married. Never been fired. Quit a few, but never fired. I cant feel what is going on in his head, so that sucks. Cant be there for him, 'cause I am here at the Hotel, with all the other lemmings. Lemmings, heh.
Guess I am one, too. (Off the cliff with you!!!!)
Firehouse was a killer yesterday, not crisis killer, but killer with work. Going, going, all day. Then basically up all night with the damn full moon, ( never can sleep well with a full moon) & alarms up the yang over the radio. This temporary Chiefs Driver shit is for the birds. Come out list!!!! Frick, long enuf already!
Stillneed to do that photoblog of a day shit. Mai-mai had the digi-cam for a few days, so thats the delay. Gotta work, shit.
Added- Work. Sucks. Big. Fat. Doggy. Dicks.
Computer system (POS terminal) is not taking Credit Cards. Oh Joy. All manually. Wonderful. Numbers up the yin-yang.
Arggg.
20.6.05
Post Fathers Day Surf-O-Rama & Monday Deepest Blues Are Black
CW 945AM to 1245AM. -"Sino Walls" got to get into Mother Ocean this 'morning. Ultra low tide when passing the M - Bay after getting off duty. Rewarded by getting skunked the first 15 minutes. Tide filled in, and waves generally decided to show up. Bit on the inconsistent side, but the hammer came when the nail stood up. Mellow time, plenty of moments to think, and be thought of. Couple of real gems, got 2 well lined-up walls, deep take-offs, and proceeded to try and tear the shit outta the wave. Good off-the-tops, followed by (ok) roundhouse cuttys back to the coming foam ball. Inside bowl was not working too often, but managed a cover up barrel at least once. Got a good session in.
Yesterday was mellow at the ol' firehouse. Sick hiker, at the top of Diamond Head. All the troops. Ladder, Rescue, Air1 and us. EMS, all did a fine job to extricate the patient from the bunkers at the top. EMS later told us he denied treatment. More typical tourist BS. Took the free helicopter ride, tho'. Get to put all the resources at risk, thanks to your inability to realize that you are a overweight, outta shape, self-centered, dweeb. Dont mind helping you, but for crying out loud, it is 90 degrees, there is NO water on the 1mile hike, so ...5-P's doofus! Prior Planning Prevents Pisspoor Performance!!! Hydrate! Realize your limits! Stop me from bitching! Job, yes, but uneeded risks at the cause of those with meager brain capacity, No.
Nice part was all the other touristas saying what a fine job all did. Was really quick. Air1 got there in no time flat. Ladderman (Coach construct-o-dude) ran with (Kakiona & 'Oribats) all the way up for there AM work out. got there same time Air 1 showed up w/ us and Rescue. Good job all around, noone hurt, main thing.
C on the rampage, K out to lunch, smoking herbs in my truck, and trashed my Foofighters new CD case, not the Disc, but, WTF, I take care of my shit. Knew he was herbing, cause I found a ash on the stickshift counsel, and herbalicious smell it was! Cant hide what I recognize, K?
Aloha for now, it is showtime at the Pepto-Bismal-rrific colored jobbo #2....
Ah, to be back in the water, instead of here...
Yesterday was mellow at the ol' firehouse. Sick hiker, at the top of Diamond Head. All the troops. Ladder, Rescue, Air1 and us. EMS, all did a fine job to extricate the patient from the bunkers at the top. EMS later told us he denied treatment. More typical tourist BS. Took the free helicopter ride, tho'. Get to put all the resources at risk, thanks to your inability to realize that you are a overweight, outta shape, self-centered, dweeb. Dont mind helping you, but for crying out loud, it is 90 degrees, there is NO water on the 1mile hike, so ...5-P's doofus! Prior Planning Prevents Pisspoor Performance!!! Hydrate! Realize your limits! Stop me from bitching! Job, yes, but uneeded risks at the cause of those with meager brain capacity, No.
Nice part was all the other touristas saying what a fine job all did. Was really quick. Air1 got there in no time flat. Ladderman (Coach construct-o-dude) ran with (Kakiona & 'Oribats) all the way up for there AM work out. got there same time Air 1 showed up w/ us and Rescue. Good job all around, noone hurt, main thing.
C on the rampage, K out to lunch, smoking herbs in my truck, and trashed my Foofighters new CD case, not the Disc, but, WTF, I take care of my shit. Knew he was herbing, cause I found a ash on the stickshift counsel, and herbalicious smell it was! Cant hide what I recognize, K?
Aloha for now, it is showtime at the Pepto-Bismal-rrific colored jobbo #2....
Ah, to be back in the water, instead of here...
18.6.05
D.O.A. = 1, Avulsion's = 1, Surf = Fat friggin zero
Back on shift cycle, forgot to do the photoblogging thing. Fire in the valley, 1 DOA, Avulsions, 1, kid on a bike, split open his calf.
End of day.
More later.
HAPPY BDAY AKONI.
End of day.
More later.
HAPPY BDAY AKONI.
17.6.05
16.6.05
4, count 'em, 4 days off, all 4 bad, all 4 work @ Job#2, all 4 naught...
Schedule of my sanity-sustaining job @ the firehouse allows for 24 hour shifts, (3 of 'em) spaced w/ a day off, follwed by 4 daze off. On these 4 daze, I migarte my sorry ass to the oasis of pink in our island sea of blue.
What a friggin' long winded diatribe.
Job2, at the 1927 built pink lady of Waikiki, for the past 23 years. Joy. Work an average of 29-30 days ( s/b daze ) a month. Hella fun. Surf keeps me sane. ( aruguably ) Hours at hotel predominately night, restaurant. So stress is my co-pilot. He packs a large spot in my truck load of life.
So, that being said, lets get to the litany of problemo's facing Hawaiianmark of recent, prime, vintage. Any wives, women, significant others who have/are going thru the wonderous time after a hysterectomy, please leave your comments for my reading. I would appreciate it. It sure as fuck could help me in this period of change. C had hers done 2 years back, and avoiding meds, ahs been pretty even keeled for the most part. Recently, w/ her job problems, the silent mode, (aka- as come near me, speak to me, or let me know of your exsistence, and I will KILL you) C has been quite the handfull of late. So today I kindly asked for us to speak about the situation, this, instead of going for a surf, so, pretty dire for me.
Bottom line C been lying about a set of debts that are now gonna fuck us, violently, in the ASS.
Oh for the 1 week a month of PMS, so much easier on the male pyschi. Sorry ladies, if that offends, sorry. Honest.
Anywhosafats, back to the challenges of firehouse 'morrow. At least I got a surf in. Maybe more on Saturday. Either that, or MFB, CFD. ..... .... .... ( measure for box, call for dirt )
Planning on doing a photoblog of the day 'morrow. Got the digicam, and Hello thingy, maybe it will spark something in my pre-dementia mind that will be creative. Day starts at 0500, so garrans I wont be a pretty sight for the 1st series. We will see. Should irritate the fuck outta the guys at the station. (insert quite evil laugh track)
Pre-fathers day aloha to fathers, fathers-to-be, step-fathers, etc. Raise strong, smart, dedicate men, for your sons, and determined, strong, and loving women for your daughters. The legacy you leave, you entrust to those you nurture. Strong roots last thru winds of change, winds of destruction, breezes of refreshment. Fucked poetry, yes, but the best I can do on a messed up mind.
Koni-bear: If you still remember this site's web address, and read it. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!
You are a wonderful son, a pride in my eyes, and deserving of all the good that comes your way. We love you a ton.
Me Kealoha Pumehana, Hauoli Lahanau.
I still miss that little Mr T, the fat little blackbear, witht the mohawk 'do.
God Bless You.
Aloha, Peace.
What a friggin' long winded diatribe.
Job2, at the 1927 built pink lady of Waikiki, for the past 23 years. Joy. Work an average of 29-30 days ( s/b daze ) a month. Hella fun. Surf keeps me sane. ( aruguably ) Hours at hotel predominately night, restaurant. So stress is my co-pilot. He packs a large spot in my truck load of life.
So, that being said, lets get to the litany of problemo's facing Hawaiianmark of recent, prime, vintage. Any wives, women, significant others who have/are going thru the wonderous time after a hysterectomy, please leave your comments for my reading. I would appreciate it. It sure as fuck could help me in this period of change. C had hers done 2 years back, and avoiding meds, ahs been pretty even keeled for the most part. Recently, w/ her job problems, the silent mode, (aka- as come near me, speak to me, or let me know of your exsistence, and I will KILL you) C has been quite the handfull of late. So today I kindly asked for us to speak about the situation, this, instead of going for a surf, so, pretty dire for me.
Bottom line C been lying about a set of debts that are now gonna fuck us, violently, in the ASS.
Oh for the 1 week a month of PMS, so much easier on the male pyschi. Sorry ladies, if that offends, sorry. Honest.
Anywhosafats, back to the challenges of firehouse 'morrow. At least I got a surf in. Maybe more on Saturday. Either that, or MFB, CFD. ..... .... .... ( measure for box, call for dirt )
Planning on doing a photoblog of the day 'morrow. Got the digicam, and Hello thingy, maybe it will spark something in my pre-dementia mind that will be creative. Day starts at 0500, so garrans I wont be a pretty sight for the 1st series. We will see. Should irritate the fuck outta the guys at the station. (insert quite evil laugh track)
Pre-fathers day aloha to fathers, fathers-to-be, step-fathers, etc. Raise strong, smart, dedicate men, for your sons, and determined, strong, and loving women for your daughters. The legacy you leave, you entrust to those you nurture. Strong roots last thru winds of change, winds of destruction, breezes of refreshment. Fucked poetry, yes, but the best I can do on a messed up mind.
Koni-bear: If you still remember this site's web address, and read it. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!
You are a wonderful son, a pride in my eyes, and deserving of all the good that comes your way. We love you a ton.
Me Kealoha Pumehana, Hauoli Lahanau.
I still miss that little Mr T, the fat little blackbear, witht the mohawk 'do.
God Bless You.
Aloha, Peace.
15.6.05
What you call blue.
Surfed the "Sino Wall" this AM. Good enuf for me. Fun waves, no waves of consequence (that is for you SK) Couple of worthwhile sets. Canoe paddler guy at first, then couple hours later, he comes by again. Stoked a comment my way. Made me think, and the rest of the day wasnt as bad as it coulda been. Did a bunch of thinking out in the H20 today. "Hows that you say?" "How can a man with no mind, think?" Ah humor at its finest. And you dont pay for it either. Well, maybe in a sense you DO.
All that thought'en worked me up into a real brain freeze. "Nothing left here but the burnt bearings from a previous owner, Ma!" (WTF with the hick accent, I dunno) Found the morning to be just as enjoyable as it always is for me.
But enough about me.
Lets talk about retarded In - Laws.
Oh, a realm you wont likely see again in print, cause these twerps are classic.
Bro-in-law #1 - Older than C, and by God he is heavier, too! ( Like 400 lbs of walking manhood, baby!!) He is in the business. We will leave that at that. No sense ruining his exsistence anymore than it is already. A lying, bullshiting, ( yeah, I know, same difference) money grubbing piece of art. No idea on what the word "reality" means. Went to the same HS as me. 1 year ahead. What a doofus. God, how hard it is when the whole fricking island knows what a moron ( my favorite word) I have as a relative. I ignore him at all costs. Hard to do when you block out the sun.
Bro-in-law #2 - Younger than C. Wears more make-up than her, too. Yes, the proud relative is a Gay, cross-dressing, hairdresser. Combine that wonderous combo with the fact that he is a Meth addict, ...Voila! He can suck dick, and spontaneously ignite your balls at the same time. Great at parties! Has a talent, (no, no, no!) but wastes his time getting high for days only to turn around and become a real asshole after the "crash". You know how hot looking girls love hairdressing gays? We have a winner here folks! He has more either real good looking ones calling him up, or ones with big $$, than Freddie Mercury has cum stains on his bed. (Sorry Queen fans, I know, he is dead.) Probably has made more $ than I in this life time, (have you ever seen how much these guys charge for a bullshit hair-do?, and they tell the client so much frivilous crap, it amazes) but wastes it all on drugs. Lives outta mind, outta sight, down in the "rainbow" section of town. Actually argues with my daughter over ... girl shit. Weird.
Sis-in-law #1 - Younger again than C. Meth addict, but the fatteset mo'fo meth head you will ever see. Probably more ignorant than a rock. A real rock, that is. Homeless. Sad. But not so friggin sad that I have pity. Tried to, got ripped off. Husband is in jail, lost her kids to CPS, ah the list goes on and on. Waste of time to drag on about it.
And the final entry to this hall of horror - Sis -in-law#2 (actually could be 2 & 3, she is so fucking huge, and so psychotic, there has to be 2 of her) This is the creme brulee of the crew. Pathological, I do mean pathological, liar. Lies about anything and everything. All the time. I mean, stuff You Know she knows you know she is bullshitting. All without batting an eye. A non-stop, yakker. The most revolting tone of voice, kind of a cross between a Cali Valley girl, and chalk-board nails. Her husband, fine doofus that he is, is just as lame as her. He believes her bullshit. More fucking morons.
And these have kids, too. That'll be another gem of a post.
Guess that is enuf of a rant, more positive, maybe, later.
Aloha.
All that thought'en worked me up into a real brain freeze. "Nothing left here but the burnt bearings from a previous owner, Ma!" (WTF with the hick accent, I dunno) Found the morning to be just as enjoyable as it always is for me.
But enough about me.
Lets talk about retarded In - Laws.
Oh, a realm you wont likely see again in print, cause these twerps are classic.
Bro-in-law #1 - Older than C, and by God he is heavier, too! ( Like 400 lbs of walking manhood, baby!!) He is in the business. We will leave that at that. No sense ruining his exsistence anymore than it is already. A lying, bullshiting, ( yeah, I know, same difference) money grubbing piece of art. No idea on what the word "reality" means. Went to the same HS as me. 1 year ahead. What a doofus. God, how hard it is when the whole fricking island knows what a moron ( my favorite word) I have as a relative. I ignore him at all costs. Hard to do when you block out the sun.
Bro-in-law #2 - Younger than C. Wears more make-up than her, too. Yes, the proud relative is a Gay, cross-dressing, hairdresser. Combine that wonderous combo with the fact that he is a Meth addict, ...Voila! He can suck dick, and spontaneously ignite your balls at the same time. Great at parties! Has a talent, (no, no, no!) but wastes his time getting high for days only to turn around and become a real asshole after the "crash". You know how hot looking girls love hairdressing gays? We have a winner here folks! He has more either real good looking ones calling him up, or ones with big $$, than Freddie Mercury has cum stains on his bed. (Sorry Queen fans, I know, he is dead.) Probably has made more $ than I in this life time, (have you ever seen how much these guys charge for a bullshit hair-do?, and they tell the client so much frivilous crap, it amazes) but wastes it all on drugs. Lives outta mind, outta sight, down in the "rainbow" section of town. Actually argues with my daughter over ... girl shit. Weird.
Sis-in-law #1 - Younger again than C. Meth addict, but the fatteset mo'fo meth head you will ever see. Probably more ignorant than a rock. A real rock, that is. Homeless. Sad. But not so friggin sad that I have pity. Tried to, got ripped off. Husband is in jail, lost her kids to CPS, ah the list goes on and on. Waste of time to drag on about it.
And the final entry to this hall of horror - Sis -in-law#2 (actually could be 2 & 3, she is so fucking huge, and so psychotic, there has to be 2 of her) This is the creme brulee of the crew. Pathological, I do mean pathological, liar. Lies about anything and everything. All the time. I mean, stuff You Know she knows you know she is bullshitting. All without batting an eye. A non-stop, yakker. The most revolting tone of voice, kind of a cross between a Cali Valley girl, and chalk-board nails. Her husband, fine doofus that he is, is just as lame as her. He believes her bullshit. More fucking morons.
And these have kids, too. That'll be another gem of a post.
Guess that is enuf of a rant, more positive, maybe, later.
Aloha.
14.6.05
Pheng Shooey
Placing something in a specified area to generate good/bad karma luck ( roughly thereabouts) Sounds good, yeah? I guess that is why dogs shit right where you will next step.
"dog shit luck?"
Anyway .... Not much on the plate for today, unless you count nuclear meltdown with Mai-Mai, ( over not calling me about a problem at home ) and having to go thru the wringer to find out the facts. This after dealing with BS from C, on her mooooooooooooooood over her work/situation crap. So I feel like shit for yelling at her, and demanding to know what happened. It all started because I looked at the caller ID to see if while I was at this friggin hotel, if any important calls came in. (God forbid if I ever get a message from my troops) I noticed one that i thought was from one of the fire stations by my home. Called the #, only to find out it was the HPD (police) area station down the road. Thus began the inqusition. The most upsetting thing about all of it was that Mai didnt call me. So that pissed me off. Already Mai had recently screwed up her cell phone ( due to neglect, and carelessness) So went to Cingular to figger shit out....Bottom line, wasted alot of time and frustration over.....(you guessed it) .... SHIT.
Guilty. Guilty as charged. Of course Mai, in all her innocence, and brightness, has to go and say "at least I was smart to call the police" with the saddest, almost tears face.
Damn if I didnt feel like a heel. A heel that ground in a big pile of dog shit.
On the brighter side, K got CPR certified today. I am proud of that. A small accomplishment sure, but for him it could gude him to be something more in this life. A worthwhile entrant in this human race. Good on ya, Kaimi. Good on ya.
Surf to come up, looks like small increase on the Southshores, Phhfffht!
C - you are really driving me outta my gourd lately, REALLY. (Arrrrrrgggghhh!)
Peace, and Aloha.
"dog shit luck?"
Anyway .... Not much on the plate for today, unless you count nuclear meltdown with Mai-Mai, ( over not calling me about a problem at home ) and having to go thru the wringer to find out the facts. This after dealing with BS from C, on her mooooooooooooooood over her work/situation crap. So I feel like shit for yelling at her, and demanding to know what happened. It all started because I looked at the caller ID to see if while I was at this friggin hotel, if any important calls came in. (God forbid if I ever get a message from my troops) I noticed one that i thought was from one of the fire stations by my home. Called the #, only to find out it was the HPD (police) area station down the road. Thus began the inqusition. The most upsetting thing about all of it was that Mai didnt call me. So that pissed me off. Already Mai had recently screwed up her cell phone ( due to neglect, and carelessness) So went to Cingular to figger shit out....Bottom line, wasted alot of time and frustration over.....(you guessed it) .... SHIT.
Guilty. Guilty as charged. Of course Mai, in all her innocence, and brightness, has to go and say "at least I was smart to call the police" with the saddest, almost tears face.
Damn if I didnt feel like a heel. A heel that ground in a big pile of dog shit.
On the brighter side, K got CPR certified today. I am proud of that. A small accomplishment sure, but for him it could gude him to be something more in this life. A worthwhile entrant in this human race. Good on ya, Kaimi. Good on ya.
Surf to come up, looks like small increase on the Southshores, Phhfffht!
C - you are really driving me outta my gourd lately, REALLY. (Arrrrrrgggghhh!)
Peace, and Aloha.
13.6.05
Special Ed., Tofu, Tattoos, Inane Tourists, & Poi
Got Poi? Had Hawaiian food at the station last night. Wonderful. If you dont like it, More for me. Thanks.
Around 2230, comes these 2 gorgeous women to the station. If you want a reaction from firemen, be a gorgeous woman, come by the station at 2230 (1030) and be friendly. You are guranteed attention. Nice women, friendly, took pix of the firetruck, etc. Came with a firefighter who was off duty. For me, I got no ulterior motives. They were nice people, thats enuf for me. Whatever other adults do with their life, that is there business. But I am a man, and these women were gorgeous. It aint a sin to look.
Surfed the Point this AM. Good enuf go out. Noone out but me. Brain meditation, body cleaning time. Caught a few good waves. 'enuf for a smile on my face.
Working at the Hotel now. Monday night Luau hell. 600+ covers. Unorganized mayhem to seat them, vouchers, credit cards, assholes.
Of course, there always has to be the all-important-I-am-queen-cunt-of-the-world-kiss-my-white-ass bitch that has to let us know how upset she/he/it is.
"This is ridiculous, I pay good money, not to wait in line"
(Yeah, and the other, quiet, patient people in front of you did too)
"YOU need to organize this better"
(Uh, do you see MANAGER written anywhere on my face?)
#2 Twat standing with bitch #1 - " Yeah, why dont YOU do something about this, we pay good money for this, not to stand in line!"
(Now thats original, had to think up a little extra to add to the other twats comment, did we?)
"I want to see a manager now!!!!!!"
(oh yes, dear, believe me you will)
So i direct the snivelling cunt to the director of the event, and he meekly kisses her ass.
(In the mean time, unbeknownest to her highness, yours truly has called her hotel, claimed to be herhusband, and asked the concierge to call my Credit Card company and report the card used to gurantee "our" room to be reported stolen, and to please alert the Manager of the hotel, the front desk, and security. Didnt have time to fuck with weakass #2, but she will understand, I am sure.)
Bottom line? When you act like shit, you get shit on back. You would be surprised at how many ways there are to fuck with idiots like this. The worst part is that I will feel guilty, but not for long, cause these shitheads deserve worse. It gets annoying to have dumbass' look down the crook of their nose at you.
I sometimes wish they woud have a massive heart attack, stroke, or spazz-out, so I could say as they draw their last dying breath, "I know CPR, I can save you, but you treat people like shit, so I dont think I will"
I would not do that, but damn, damn, damn...It sure does cross your mind after 23+ years of these kinds of cretins coming here.
Sometimes, you just gotta do what you gotta do, I guess.
Around 2230, comes these 2 gorgeous women to the station. If you want a reaction from firemen, be a gorgeous woman, come by the station at 2230 (1030) and be friendly. You are guranteed attention. Nice women, friendly, took pix of the firetruck, etc. Came with a firefighter who was off duty. For me, I got no ulterior motives. They were nice people, thats enuf for me. Whatever other adults do with their life, that is there business. But I am a man, and these women were gorgeous. It aint a sin to look.
Surfed the Point this AM. Good enuf go out. Noone out but me. Brain meditation, body cleaning time. Caught a few good waves. 'enuf for a smile on my face.
Working at the Hotel now. Monday night Luau hell. 600+ covers. Unorganized mayhem to seat them, vouchers, credit cards, assholes.
Of course, there always has to be the all-important-I-am-queen-cunt-of-the-world-kiss-my-white-ass bitch that has to let us know how upset she/he/it is.
"This is ridiculous, I pay good money, not to wait in line"
(Yeah, and the other, quiet, patient people in front of you did too)
"YOU need to organize this better"
(Uh, do you see MANAGER written anywhere on my face?)
#2 Twat standing with bitch #1 - " Yeah, why dont YOU do something about this, we pay good money for this, not to stand in line!"
(Now thats original, had to think up a little extra to add to the other twats comment, did we?)
"I want to see a manager now!!!!!!"
(oh yes, dear, believe me you will)
So i direct the snivelling cunt to the director of the event, and he meekly kisses her ass.
(In the mean time, unbeknownest to her highness, yours truly has called her hotel, claimed to be herhusband, and asked the concierge to call my Credit Card company and report the card used to gurantee "our" room to be reported stolen, and to please alert the Manager of the hotel, the front desk, and security. Didnt have time to fuck with weakass #2, but she will understand, I am sure.)
Bottom line? When you act like shit, you get shit on back. You would be surprised at how many ways there are to fuck with idiots like this. The worst part is that I will feel guilty, but not for long, cause these shitheads deserve worse. It gets annoying to have dumbass' look down the crook of their nose at you.
I sometimes wish they woud have a massive heart attack, stroke, or spazz-out, so I could say as they draw their last dying breath, "I know CPR, I can save you, but you treat people like shit, so I dont think I will"
I would not do that, but damn, damn, damn...It sure does cross your mind after 23+ years of these kinds of cretins coming here.
Sometimes, you just gotta do what you gotta do, I guess.
11.6.05
Pissed
So you be pissed. And why not? Dealing with everything in this fucked up cosmos called life, why not?
Just finished reading all kinds a shit
Ah yes SHIT.
Just finished reading all kinds a shit
Ah yes SHIT.
Harmony In My Head
Welcome home. When you feel like shit, you look like shit. Bad hair cut. You look like shit. Bad vibes on the home fire. You feel like shit. Ah, for the joys of surfing. Oh no, you cant do that. You have to much shit to do. So you look to the sky, and say a prayer that the shit will stop.
And the passing bird shits on you.
If it wasnt for bad luck, ....
No i wont complete it with the standard shit,
because for want of a better explanation,
that would be the shits.
Hope everyone else on this great blue marble is doing better than moi.
Shit.
And the passing bird shits on you.
If it wasnt for bad luck, ....
No i wont complete it with the standard shit,
because for want of a better explanation,
that would be the shits.
Hope everyone else on this great blue marble is doing better than moi.
Shit.
9.6.05
Yo- Eleven, Hard 10, & Other Oddities
June heat is now in the house. So much for surfing today. Blah. 24hour shift yesterday @ the firehouse. Nothing exciting, so we get blessed on that account. Tough times at the old homestead lately, with C and her job BS, alas, it doesnt come to end, but continues on its ignorant way. At the Hotel now, and as usual, not looking forward to another night with the fools of the world, out on the vacation syndrome. Oh well. So be it. Cant seem to shake the "cereal depression" lows of late. Overwhelmed.
Trying too hard to accomplish what needs to be done.
1. Finish the remodelling of up-stairs (90% complete)
2. Refi the whole shit.
3. Get C on the road to work again, and keep her smiling for the time being. (Arrgggh!)
4. Get the promotional list out - (week at soonest)
5. Go surf. Bwahhahahahaha!
6. Pay the fricking bills.
6A. - When you got a backpack full of them, WTF?
7. Get promoted - assuming we are on the list...Argggggh, part 2
8. Study for the NEXT promotional test - End of July.
9. Have a beer.
10. Have another 1.
Went to get a haircut - (file this under things not to do when have a day off) at Fantastic Sams. Mistake. Big mistake.
Now I dont particularly figure myself as a primping kind of guy, so haircuts matter nada to me. Cheaper the better. Fricking 12 to 20 bucks for a gay guy to cut your mop is kinda ridiculous, and having a gay-hairdressing brother-in-law, I am no bigot. But explantions aside, he aint cutting my do anymore. Now you go to FS here, it is manned by immigrant Koreans & Vietnamese ladies, who, for the most part, are compotent enuf to cut ones locks. I have gone to this outlet before, and come out, unscathed. I hold no predjudice to the ladies. They do the hair cutting thing, and I pay & tip them, and we all go on our happy way.
Usually.
Ah, the facts - So me and the Mai-mai go to FS for the cutting. No line, step right up sir, your demolition is waiting!
Usually I get the 1 lady who always tells me in wonderful broken "engrish", about her life. I nod, close my eyes, and paitiently wait for the end. Pay, tip, ..Aloha, I am out the door.
But not today. Today I get "Angie". Now I know her name isnt "Angie" and I know she knows I know this, but I guess it is part of the FS experience. You as the customer, put down a bogus name, and they as the "stylist" give you a bogus one to call them. Fair enuf.
So "Angie" gets to work. "How shoort you like your cut?" - I should have run.
"not too short, just clean up the curls and length, thanks"
OK.
Hey, I am a simple guy. Surf, work, wear a baseball hat so I dont have to comb the mop.
How bad can you fuck up my hair?
"Angie" busts out the buzzers.
"Angie" cuts with abandon. And cuts. And cuts. "Angie" answers the phone. "Chew cum down in arout fifteen minutes, Okay?"
Note to self- No more "Angie".
"Angie" gets back to the demolition at hand. Buzzzzzz. I close my eyes, and think, I am going to have to pay for this, and tip her, for the God awful results that are assured to come outta this. Ah, FUCK.
I can hear in the "waiting" area, Maile with my cell phone doodling with it. Maile is 13. Maile has a new attitude. I am going to wring her neck. Maile calls C,--- yap, yap, yap. The demo continues, and by my own imagination, (cause I aint looking!!!!) it is not getting better.
Maile comes to the torture chair I am in. "Dad?" "Uh, Can I go over to Jamba Juice?" Yean, Mai, go ahead.
Wonderful daughter of my loins then proceeds to back away, without "Angie" seeing makes the well known universal sign of "finger-in-the-mouth" gag.
Oh, the joy.
"Angie" bust out the big guns.
"Angie" cuts my ear.
"Angie"....well lets put it like this - It didnt get worse. But it sure is not getting better.
End damage- 13 bucks for the hammer job, 3 bucks for tip, 5 dollars Jamba.
Endless ridicule at the Station, wife hates the cut, Maile laughs.
"Angie" smiles, says " ah, gooot, Yew no need hat anymore.."
Yep.
I turn, smile, head toward the door.....
And put on my hat.
Shit.
Trying too hard to accomplish what needs to be done.
1. Finish the remodelling of up-stairs (90% complete)
2. Refi the whole shit.
3. Get C on the road to work again, and keep her smiling for the time being. (Arrgggh!)
4. Get the promotional list out - (week at soonest)
5. Go surf. Bwahhahahahaha!
6. Pay the fricking bills.
6A. - When you got a backpack full of them, WTF?
7. Get promoted - assuming we are on the list...Argggggh, part 2
8. Study for the NEXT promotional test - End of July.
9. Have a beer.
10. Have another 1.
Went to get a haircut - (file this under things not to do when have a day off) at Fantastic Sams. Mistake. Big mistake.
Now I dont particularly figure myself as a primping kind of guy, so haircuts matter nada to me. Cheaper the better. Fricking 12 to 20 bucks for a gay guy to cut your mop is kinda ridiculous, and having a gay-hairdressing brother-in-law, I am no bigot. But explantions aside, he aint cutting my do anymore. Now you go to FS here, it is manned by immigrant Koreans & Vietnamese ladies, who, for the most part, are compotent enuf to cut ones locks. I have gone to this outlet before, and come out, unscathed. I hold no predjudice to the ladies. They do the hair cutting thing, and I pay & tip them, and we all go on our happy way.
Usually.
Ah, the facts - So me and the Mai-mai go to FS for the cutting. No line, step right up sir, your demolition is waiting!
Usually I get the 1 lady who always tells me in wonderful broken "engrish", about her life. I nod, close my eyes, and paitiently wait for the end. Pay, tip, ..Aloha, I am out the door.
But not today. Today I get "Angie". Now I know her name isnt "Angie" and I know she knows I know this, but I guess it is part of the FS experience. You as the customer, put down a bogus name, and they as the "stylist" give you a bogus one to call them. Fair enuf.
So "Angie" gets to work. "How shoort you like your cut?" - I should have run.
"not too short, just clean up the curls and length, thanks"
OK.
Hey, I am a simple guy. Surf, work, wear a baseball hat so I dont have to comb the mop.
How bad can you fuck up my hair?
"Angie" busts out the buzzers.
"Angie" cuts with abandon. And cuts. And cuts. "Angie" answers the phone. "Chew cum down in arout fifteen minutes, Okay?"
Note to self- No more "Angie".
"Angie" gets back to the demolition at hand. Buzzzzzz. I close my eyes, and think, I am going to have to pay for this, and tip her, for the God awful results that are assured to come outta this. Ah, FUCK.
I can hear in the "waiting" area, Maile with my cell phone doodling with it. Maile is 13. Maile has a new attitude. I am going to wring her neck. Maile calls C,--- yap, yap, yap. The demo continues, and by my own imagination, (cause I aint looking!!!!) it is not getting better.
Maile comes to the torture chair I am in. "Dad?" "Uh, Can I go over to Jamba Juice?" Yean, Mai, go ahead.
Wonderful daughter of my loins then proceeds to back away, without "Angie" seeing makes the well known universal sign of "finger-in-the-mouth" gag.
Oh, the joy.
"Angie" bust out the big guns.
"Angie" cuts my ear.
"Angie"....well lets put it like this - It didnt get worse. But it sure is not getting better.
End damage- 13 bucks for the hammer job, 3 bucks for tip, 5 dollars Jamba.
Endless ridicule at the Station, wife hates the cut, Maile laughs.
"Angie" smiles, says " ah, gooot, Yew no need hat anymore.."
Yep.
I turn, smile, head toward the door.....
And put on my hat.
Shit.
4.6.05
Is There Anybody Out There?
Aloha. I know, I know, what the hell tho' I will state the obvious. Does anyone actually READ this drivel? Whatever if the answer is no. I'd like to think so. But so what if not. I guess in the past rants and stokes, I have neglected to perhaps ignore stating a bit o' history for anyone who needs to know more.
Anyhow - Away we go : 46, Firefighter, Dad to 3 - 23 y/o that tries to right really hard, but gets distracted with the pleasure syndrome of partying. Oldest male, he tries to be a hoodlum, but has a beautiful heart. 21 y/o - That is the mellowest soul with the greatest attitude on the planet. Very solid youth. Trustworthy, dependable, mechanically inclined to tear apart every motor known to man. Good kid. Second boy. 13 y/o Daughter. Apple of my eye. Distracted to say the least, proud owner of ADHD, and proves it. Energetic, lover of animals and life. Goes a thousand MPH. All the time. Good crew, albeit a bit on the Dysfunctional side most of the time. Married to my childhood sweetheart for the past 24 years. Have been with her since October 25, 1973. Long fucking time. Would die for her, and she does drive me outta my mind with her own brand of insanity. Makes life miserable, at the same time lets me be her knight in shining armour.
Work at the firehouse 24 hour shifts for 10 to 11 days a month. Pay is OK, but not enough. Being a professional in Hawaii, it sucks, plain and simple. Soooooo, work part time at the "Pink Palace" hotel for the past 23 years. Plainly - I work for morons, deal with morons, and hate, absolutely hate, tourists that are ignorant. Jaded to a "T" with fools here on vacation. Not all, but the percentage is ridicoulous. My attitude on them sucks I know, but when We visit somewhere, we try to show class, and most of the ones that come here are, well, Fools.
Surfer. Surf as much as I humanly can when ever I have the time. Mornings before work, or when the swell hits, calling in sick. Definitely addicted. Not a poser. Although the "lifestyle" aspect of surfing is now a popular mode, true addicts live with threadbare boardshorts, dinged up boards, and less is more views. Would rather surf a lonely break than fight crowds at better spots. Truly the gift of God to be in the ocean. Only thing in this world that I can say makes me feel worthy of God's love. Majesty in the water. Stoked on the fact that I am healthy enough, in shape enough, to particiapte in the sport. Feel like the most blessed soul alive when surfing.
But with that, comes flat spells, time constraints, and demands of responsiblity. Juggling act times 10. Seems to work out most of the time, but lately, not as much as my soul needs.
Tend to be a bit Manic/Depressive. Highs are high, Lows not toooo low, but surly do feel them. I self medicate with Beer, no drugs, but mediation or time alone heals most of the time.
Love to go to Las Vegas. Not the addict gambler, but do love to play craps. Only been there 3 times. But caught on to dice setting and learned it pays to play smart at the tables. Nice break from dealing with the dead, and fires. Possibly the only younger guy at the tables full of oldsters in downtown Vegas. Would rather play with the old crowd than loud borish punks or yuppies. They older they are the more tales they tell.
Enjoy good books, movies and my family. Surfing is # 2 next to them, but closing in fast on the bad days.
End of history.
Anyhow - Away we go : 46, Firefighter, Dad to 3 - 23 y/o that tries to right really hard, but gets distracted with the pleasure syndrome of partying. Oldest male, he tries to be a hoodlum, but has a beautiful heart. 21 y/o - That is the mellowest soul with the greatest attitude on the planet. Very solid youth. Trustworthy, dependable, mechanically inclined to tear apart every motor known to man. Good kid. Second boy. 13 y/o Daughter. Apple of my eye. Distracted to say the least, proud owner of ADHD, and proves it. Energetic, lover of animals and life. Goes a thousand MPH. All the time. Good crew, albeit a bit on the Dysfunctional side most of the time. Married to my childhood sweetheart for the past 24 years. Have been with her since October 25, 1973. Long fucking time. Would die for her, and she does drive me outta my mind with her own brand of insanity. Makes life miserable, at the same time lets me be her knight in shining armour.
Work at the firehouse 24 hour shifts for 10 to 11 days a month. Pay is OK, but not enough. Being a professional in Hawaii, it sucks, plain and simple. Soooooo, work part time at the "Pink Palace" hotel for the past 23 years. Plainly - I work for morons, deal with morons, and hate, absolutely hate, tourists that are ignorant. Jaded to a "T" with fools here on vacation. Not all, but the percentage is ridicoulous. My attitude on them sucks I know, but when We visit somewhere, we try to show class, and most of the ones that come here are, well, Fools.
Surfer. Surf as much as I humanly can when ever I have the time. Mornings before work, or when the swell hits, calling in sick. Definitely addicted. Not a poser. Although the "lifestyle" aspect of surfing is now a popular mode, true addicts live with threadbare boardshorts, dinged up boards, and less is more views. Would rather surf a lonely break than fight crowds at better spots. Truly the gift of God to be in the ocean. Only thing in this world that I can say makes me feel worthy of God's love. Majesty in the water. Stoked on the fact that I am healthy enough, in shape enough, to particiapte in the sport. Feel like the most blessed soul alive when surfing.
But with that, comes flat spells, time constraints, and demands of responsiblity. Juggling act times 10. Seems to work out most of the time, but lately, not as much as my soul needs.
Tend to be a bit Manic/Depressive. Highs are high, Lows not toooo low, but surly do feel them. I self medicate with Beer, no drugs, but mediation or time alone heals most of the time.
Love to go to Las Vegas. Not the addict gambler, but do love to play craps. Only been there 3 times. But caught on to dice setting and learned it pays to play smart at the tables. Nice break from dealing with the dead, and fires. Possibly the only younger guy at the tables full of oldsters in downtown Vegas. Would rather play with the old crowd than loud borish punks or yuppies. They older they are the more tales they tell.
Enjoy good books, movies and my family. Surfing is # 2 next to them, but closing in fast on the bad days.
End of history.
2.6.05
June/Summer/Surf?/Work/.....Spiel
So now it is June. And the kids are out for summer. The hills are dry, and the idiots are ready to race around the "west side" of our island with road flares and golf ball drilled and filled with lighter fluid/gas. What fun. Brush fires,(wildland fires on the mainland) are useless. Nothing like spending hours and hours to douse water (which in the country, you have to work to get) on burning lumps of Kiawe Wood (similar & used for charcol briquits) For no friggin reason. The "west side" is low income. And low IQ. Stupid, ignorant, lazy welfare system "ice" heads with nothing better to do. I guess thrills for them is watching the valleys they live in burn for hours. Not to mention the fact it endangers the homes they live in. More morons.
It stretches the departments manpower, makes the guys (& ladies) take risks that are inherent to brushfire firefighting (uneven terrain, hillsides, exhaustion, etc..) For something of no value. (not counting natures destruction) I'll take a structure fire anyday - faster and easier to extinguish.
Speaking of the firehouse- Anyone want a job with us? Be one of the 6000+ applicants to sign up on line in the span of 4 days June 12-16 at www.honolulu.gov/hr - BTW, last time we had open recruitment was 2003, and 5000 applied, 3000+ took the test, and 1400+ passed.
We hired 120.
Noone quits, so you wait for retirement to fill the empty boots. And we will hire 'bout 120 more this round too. Have fun, good luck. It is not for hero-wannabes, either, Thank you.
Since 9-11 we have ENOUGH young dweebs that think they are FDNY in the flesh. Uh, NO. We have a job to do, you aint a hero, you are another firefighter who I expect to be behind/with me when the shit hits the fan. I will sacrifice my life for you, you better be ready to do the same for the other brothers & sisters out there too. You dont have time to think.
When you step into this world, you will get NO RESPECT, at all, UNTIL YOU EARN IT. And the firehouse there are no secerts. All your life we will know, your GF, you BF, your taxes, your hopes, your kids grades, the drunk you slept with the other night. We know it all. We eat together, live together, and work together. If you are not a team player, please do something else. There are enough indivduals out there already whose main focus is "I, ME, MINE"...
Nuff on that, looks to be surf coming (hope, hope hope) soon.
C goes to Maui tomorrow, Mai off for summer, i willbe driving Chief Killa again.
Aloha for now.
It stretches the departments manpower, makes the guys (& ladies) take risks that are inherent to brushfire firefighting (uneven terrain, hillsides, exhaustion, etc..) For something of no value. (not counting natures destruction) I'll take a structure fire anyday - faster and easier to extinguish.
Speaking of the firehouse- Anyone want a job with us? Be one of the 6000+ applicants to sign up on line in the span of 4 days June 12-16 at www.honolulu.gov/hr - BTW, last time we had open recruitment was 2003, and 5000 applied, 3000+ took the test, and 1400+ passed.
We hired 120.
Noone quits, so you wait for retirement to fill the empty boots. And we will hire 'bout 120 more this round too. Have fun, good luck. It is not for hero-wannabes, either, Thank you.
Since 9-11 we have ENOUGH young dweebs that think they are FDNY in the flesh. Uh, NO. We have a job to do, you aint a hero, you are another firefighter who I expect to be behind/with me when the shit hits the fan. I will sacrifice my life for you, you better be ready to do the same for the other brothers & sisters out there too. You dont have time to think.
When you step into this world, you will get NO RESPECT, at all, UNTIL YOU EARN IT. And the firehouse there are no secerts. All your life we will know, your GF, you BF, your taxes, your hopes, your kids grades, the drunk you slept with the other night. We know it all. We eat together, live together, and work together. If you are not a team player, please do something else. There are enough indivduals out there already whose main focus is "I, ME, MINE"...
Nuff on that, looks to be surf coming (hope, hope hope) soon.
C goes to Maui tomorrow, Mai off for summer, i willbe driving Chief Killa again.
Aloha for now.
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