Friday, May 02, 2003

how bout that lakeshow, hoes? Don’t even say you didn’t know it, cuz you did. Hay-tas hate and winners win, biones can tell you that, and it’ll only cost you 85 cents. Kicked it with the G and tanked brew-dogs and jumped up and down and did push-ups when kobe started nailing insanity shots. Whut the fuk is up with Danny Ainge? He sucks ass. Such a whiney little beyatch. John Thompson, I know he’s og Georgetown and everything, but when he said “it’s kobe-time” I thought the retarded police were gonna bust in the door to the broadcast booth. Not that they were in a booth, they were on the floor, but you know what I mean, it was a figurative statement to alliterate a point, dickhole.

So fukn x-men 2 comes out today. I know I’ve kinda been dorking out with the x-men covers, but if you wanna see something else, go somewhere else, banditcho, fuck there’s plenny web, lemme do what I wanna do with what little space I have. And yes I’m making up imaginary enemies that are trying to censor me. Yes I’m aware that no one is trying to do that, but if I build them up in my head, then maybe, just maybe, I’ll win a hero sandwich. I’ll be a “freedom fighter” and I’ll thank all the people of Afghanistan that I “freed” cuz now they’re totally free to eat flies and crusty horse-meat sandwiches while the newest warlord bangs his harem. Cuz that’s what freedom means to me. And yes I’m talking out of my ass, deal with it.

All that talk of freedom is givin’ me a hankering for some fondue. So x-men 2 looks like it’ll be pretty “tight” as the kids like to say. Blah de blah I won’t bore you with details, you know I’ll be on it like ac on oj. Or is that down with it like ac’s down with oj? I guess on it would be like a peanut butter jar lid on a jar of peanut butter. Shit, bet no one ever came up with that analogy before. Fuk yeah, I’m the shit. Watched some cops after the lakers ROUT last night, and drunk rednecks drinking fukn tall boys while the cop interviews them is pretty funny, especially when their name is cletus. It’s so refreshing that I can rag on rednecks without fear of reprisal cuz I’m white too. You know, how it’s like Chinese people can make fun of other chinamen, and it’s cool. Oh shit I just said chinamen. Wait, I didn’t mean it like that, I meant it like Chinaman’s Hat, that famous island that looks like one of those circular pyramid hats that all the peeps over there in rice-paddyville like to wear.

Shit now I’m sounding like mr. Racist joe. Whatever. Here in h-town, you gotta understand, it’s pretty mellow on the racial tip, unless you’re talking about Hawaiians. Gotta respect the aina, or kimo will straight rip out your spleen. There’s this local comedian, whose name escapes me now, who’s whole act is ragging on the stereotypes of the different local races. Portugese are called “Podagee” and known for being stupid. Chinese are called “pah-key” and known for being cheap-asses, haoles (whites) are known for wanting to take over everything and thinking they fukn know everything. But that’s so not true, I mean, I’m haole and I don’t know EVERYthing. Just almost everything. There’s so few Hispanics they don’t even have a word for it. Everybody thinks Mrs. P is some kind of Phillipino/Portuguese mix or something. They guess what race she is on like the 85th try. It’s all good, you can talk like that here, just don’t step in my key-lime pie.

So where were we? How many people can I offend? See the thing is once you open the door talking about race, if you even mention that you’re not a racist, people immediately assume you ARE a racist, because, you know, you’re denying it. so I won’t deny anything, you can call me an orb from the planet zooba if it makes you feel better, just don’t be taking my cap’n crunch beyatch. just like in the salem witch trials, they’d be like “bitch, are you a witch?” and if she said yes, well they burned her at the stake, one less witch ya gotta worry about, and then if she said NO well then, what did they do? Oh yeah, they’d put you out into the water and see if you’d drown, cuz you know, witches float, and if you drowned, they’d be like, “well shit, I guess she wasn’t a witch, dang, that sucks, but at least now we’re sure,” and the girl would be dead, but well, peace of mind was something the local townspeople, or the people that had brainwashed the populace in a McCarthyan scheme of totalitarianism, valued higher than individual life.

So what was I saying? Oh yeah, local names for races. And black people are called “popolo,” but there’s not really a particular trait applied to them, you know, like a stereotype. There’s really not that many black people here, most of them are military. The locals are so oblivious to black culture in fact, there was a big scandal a couple years back, where a high school yearbook had a candid shot of some guy in a kkk outfit for Halloween, carrying around like a noose, and it was supposed to be funny. Now that would not fly even for a second on the mainland, but here it slipped under the radar until a black kid at the school, his parents saw it, and were rightly outraged. So sometimes the laizess faire attitude towards race comes back to bite the locals in their ass and shit has to get toned down. Overall, even though fucked up shit like that happens, I think it works, especially in a small island environment, cuz shit, what’s to get so pissed about, everybody’s different right? Let’s celebrate our differences, and if you can’t have a sense of humor about it, well shit then, fuck off.

And yes I know I’m white and I could never understand the persecution that minorities go through and yes I know. But here in Hawaii I’m practically the minority playboy. Actually I guess maybe I’m not, it’s all hapa. Hapa means mixed up, there’s like plenny kine mixed up peeps out here. Mrs. P volunteers at some elementary schools, and all the kids are like any kine shmany kine. They don’t care about race, they know they mama is half haole half podagee and daddy is half Hawaiian half Chinese, so they’re like, um, sign me up for kindergarten please, cuz the melting pot is percolatin’. It’s a pretty word place to live for our future mixed up children. Nobody will point at them and say half-breed. And if they do they’ll have to deal with “the hammer.” But they won’t, cuz everywhere the future is now, and papa hate Johnson is in the back with a bag of whip-its just pretending the shit ain’t happening. Well it is hobag, the hounds are at the gate, no more beaver cleaver and his wife beater, straight up don’t tell me. we can do this. Like brutus.

If the people from marvel comics come by and see this verbal diarrhea seemingly being associated with their comic books my feeling is they will be very happy and probably offer me a job in the front office. Dear Stan Lee: I am for hire, just like Luke Cage, gimme a call, we’ll do lunch.

Peace out and go lakeSHOW.