Friday, February 14, 2003

ok. Here’s the situation. Your parents are away for a week’s vacation. They left town and your blog’s fucked up. Your internet homey’s are like what the jack’s up? And your like jacko and the gremlin crew are eatin’ up my shit!! Fuck!

Yes that didn’t really rhyme and fresh prince is about as hip these days as fred durst but fuk it if my page is not fuCKED up. I mean I know I’m not the belle of the fukn ball, but I DO usually get more than like 8 hits a day or whatever people manage to fukn get in here lately.

Netscape seems to be able to slide right in. same with mozilla, I THINK. But if you’re on IE then get a nice cup of cocoa and a good book cuz you’re gonna be waiting a few hours if you wanna read this shit.

Soooo, I have come to the point where I must express myself while under the knowledge that the people that require it can be blessed with my all-knowing wisdom. Thus I will be camped out temporarily at a dog named clipper. It loads up so nice and fast, like a good dog bringing you the morning paper without taking its turn in the john to read the sports page and bringing it to you all torn and ripped up.

I am not REPEAT I am NOT abandoning ultrablognetic. FUCK THAT. This fukn thing is my baby which I nursed from a baby lamb and I’ve put blood sweat & tears as well as countless quantities of chi into this beyatch, so all you infinitely cool people that have linked my ass or visit here please don’t drop me like an old salad tong, this problem will be fixed, it’s just that I know about as much about fixing internet crap as fukn Barry Manilow knows about Compton.

It would be REALLY cool if anyone out there that knows half an ounce of dogma about blogger template code or crap like that could maybe look over my shit but ya know whut? I don’t think it has anything to do with my template. I think there’s a secret conspiracy against me and my blog was set from the start with an expiration date and this is all a ploy to sell blogger pro. Which is fine by me, ya know, if I knew that buying blogger pro would fix this shit, my check would be in the mofoin mail, but ya know whut? I don’t know that. Because, you see, if you only have blogger, not blogger pro, they won’t help you, cuz you’re a fuckin freeloader, so you gotta pay up and then they’ll help you, but who knows if they will or will be able to or actually will give a fuck cuz ya know, they gots yo money, dig? You’s a captive audience as they call it in the “trade.”

Sheeeeit. Catch 22 style and not the good kind.

Anyway, until further notice, as mentioned, I’ll be chilling over at a dog named clipper, so check me out. Yesterday was the super secret limited screening but everything is everything so cop that good shit! And this shit ain’t over muthafucka, I ain’t goin’ out without a fight you goatless bastards.

Wednesday, February 12, 2003

The Clippers started off the second half of the season right with a win in Phoenix last night. That makes us happy here in Kaneohe. Well, it makes me, and my 83 personalities, and old man Withers down at the Chemical Spray factory, happy. And I’m pretty sure those skater kids that hang out by the fire hydrant outside the liquor store are Clips fans too, so it’s cool. Maybe LA’s bastard stepchild of a basketball team will make an insane run and nab that last playoff spot. Yeah and maybe Donald Sterling will steer clear of the Everclear jell-o shots at the party tonight. Yeah, Don is out here visiting one of his Aunt’s who happens to be on her deathbed. Word is she’s got a few bucks and he’s coming to get in line with the rest of the buzzards. I would’ve asked him what the fuck, I mean, he’s got bookoo cash as it is, but if you know Don, you don’t ask, the scrilla is about as important as an 800 pound gorilla to that feller, and there’s no if and but in his vocab when it comes to paper collection methods. He'd sick a pack of doberman's on his grandma's butler if the bricks was salty enough. I once saw homey deliver a package of incense to an arabian fork company under the guise of a UPS delivery guy, sneak into the stockroom, and jack em for they styrofoam popcorn just so he wouldn't have to pack his van gogh collection with his own stash. This was when he sold his personal collection of fine otherknowledgely renditions to this crazy oil tycoon in Houston. There was a Clipper road trip through Texas and he was unloading old masters and clockin large chronicled quantities of diamonds, which he then had shipped to Canada for redistribution. A tricky old bird that Donal Sterling, don't sleep on him, do not sleep, he will bite you in your hand and then feed you graham crackers.

Oh, the party? yes I almost forgot. Well, Donald can’t go anywhere without bringing some groupies and hangers-on, and they wanna party, so me and Mrs. P are gonna take the crew clubbing through Waikiki tonite. I’ve gotta admit I’m a little rusty on the scene, but I really believe that if this motley crew sees a few aloha shirts they’ll catch the experience good enough, and ya know, I still got some minor hook-ups that should get the heeziness factor to about 12. There's about 23 in his crew, he's very Jordan centrified for a perennial non-concerned loser, and I know they'll want to hit the beach for some skinny-dipping first. That's where I'll stay back on the beach and play parcheesi with the beach boys, the unknown great grandson of Pops Magee, the ultimate haole old schooler. I figure it’s on me to pop and lock and get the pistol jocked so whutcanyado? Once Don’s half in the can you could take him to the Elk’s lodge and he’d think it was the most underground secret rave party this side of “Who’s the Boss” the lost episode. So it’s all gee.

What else? That’s really about it. I’m trying my best not to hear to much about the Daredevil movie, which I’m looking forward too despite the Affleck factor. ‘Na mean? I gotta represent the marvel comic book Glendale RTD posse film at 11 style. And if I don’t, then Long Beach WILL call, and explanations, some I may not be prepared to offer, will be demanded, and I can’t have that, as my realness is unquestioned in this industry.

Oh, and despite all the high hopes I’ve got for the Clippers this season, the Lake-show is gonna make it four in a row. You heard it here, well, probably not first, but maybe 8th or 9th. Despite that factor, let it be known, the championship goes through LA and Kobe & Shaq, and Sacramento ain’t nothin’ but a bunch of queens and the mavs ain’t nothing but a bunch of good European shooters with a quirky coach until they knock off the Lakes. Kobe’s got those new daddy vibes and he’s like, “jr. got to see daddy takin’ it to the rack and bombin’ tres and keeping it rilly in the philly or squilly whatever is the dillie.” I know he’s usually more well-spoken than that, but trust me. Direct quote. And yes I’m a bandwagon ass LA glommer. Live with it. But seriously, the only team that has a chance of beating the lakers in a 7-game series is the Clippers as long as Donald Sterling’s severed head is displayed on a stick in the Clips’ locker room prior to the game and they learn that Bill Gates is their new owner. Despite Bill Gates’ status as the devil incarnate this is the one true path, and I won’t back down from this statement. I’ll bet my near-mint copy of Avengers #1 on that shite.

Tuesday, February 11, 2003

When you get to be old is the fact that you can’t shut the fuck up and listen to anybody a product of your fear of imminent death and the need to spout all your rambling ass bullshit before the moment of croakage? Fuck! There’s this old fart that breezes through this place like a fukn tumbleweed that just has to talk talk talk and not let you get in a fukn word edgewise and then when he’s done it’s like “oh well, um, well, gotta get goin’ ya know,” and if you say jack shit on a different subject he immediately either walks away with a parting remark or finds a way to transition the subject over to some other pointless cock ass crap that concerns only the people whose colons are withering away due to father time taking a Maplewood cane to them on an hourly basis.

Ok I’m just being mean now. In fact, um, this is just a made up story. This made up old feller, he’s really a nice guy at heart, just cranky and cantankerous and in serious need of a muzzle. But he’s got spunk. Theoretically his head is in fact not up his ass and senility has not set in. but in all actuality, is it too much to ask for some (emphasize some, this is not a blanket accusation - there are many kind understanding and down-with-it aged personas in this hemisphere that should in no way feel offended by my diatribe herein) old time style people to have some patience and respect for the younger generation despite the obviousness that we are slaves to the “herky jerky” and we “put all kinds of crap in our face” and listen to the “boom boom boom” and all that? I mean maybe we are not fukn idiots after all. But nooooo you are always right and the fact that you lived through the depression gives you permanent right to bitch for eternity, as well as tell us exactly whut the fuck is wrong with the world and why it's our fault. well yeah maybe it is my fault but ya know whut? um, I don't know, but it was meaningful and deep dammit!

Dammit again. See it’s this kind of shit that gets written and not posted for obvious reasons. I mean I don’t want to offend all of my over-80 readers. You wouldn’t think it, but I get a shitload of traffic from convalescent hospitals and old folk homes. They come for the meds and stay for the stories. It’s really a give and take you see, I make them remember the days when bunnies talked and drank coqui 900 and they provide me with social security numbers so I can gank their identities and medicare benefits. Cha-ching. You know how much you can get for a visit from dr. funkenstein on the open market? Bankroll my friend.

Ya know in all actuality, I think I'm just jealous. I can't wait until the day I can tell all the younger people how fucked up they are. I can't wait until I can have some skewed view of my own past and the glory of def leppard and tell everyone how "that was real music" and that all this crap your pumping through your speakers ain't shit OR shinola. It's just the useless ramblings of an old decrepit shell of a man that yearns for the days of Silkk the Shocker and Snoop Dogg, I mean NOW they got that homogenized milk, back in my day, you drank your milk straight out of the goat tit, no chaser, dammit. Chaser's for punks. and we gulped down jim beam in fukn gallon jugs, and came back for more. It was an era of real dillios, not like you overhyped out on your whatever the hell the kids will be doing for kicks in the year 2053. Whatever it is I guarantee it'll suck ass compared to Quiet Riot and repeated viewings of Milli-Vanilli's scandalous tape recorded concert. It will not hold a goddamm candle to the magic that was vanilla ice.

This ain’t going up. It’s too controversial. I would feel too guilty after posting it. I couldn’t show my head at the NRA meetings. I mean Chuck Heston made me swear I would tone it down, and here I go. Shit, here I go…

ok. i just erased this profanity filled tirade I had written in this space and instead will say - I am pissed off as I still can't open this page in explorer, only netscape, and it bothers me intensely that the majority of the internet seem unable to view this page right now. maybe it's just my computer, but i don't think so. fuck it's hard enough to get people to come read horseshit like this, but if you make them wait all day for the page to load looking at a blank screen, they're gonna say "shit, um, yeah this is worth it, I can read about dogshit acres or I can go back to the Mr. Ed page. hmmmm." what would you do? that's what I thought. Ok, but PLEASE,can all of you do me a huge favor, and if you do read these words, e-mail me at or leave a comment, and let me know what browser your using and whether you had any problems opening this page? appreciate it. I'll owe you a doggie biscuit and a trip to Arby's for a roast beef sandwich. If you're a vegetarian I'll spring for an asparagus burger. peace. assalamalakum. ok I'm gonna go beat up my dog now.

Monday, February 10, 2003

10 more things you MIGHT not have known about living Hawaii. (See links at left for first 30)

31. When it rains, it’s usually just for a little while and then it clears up again. Just enough to cool you off and then it’s sunny time fun time again. (not always though, sometimes it dumps rain all day). This is one thing that really tripped me out when I first moved out here. In LA if it rains, it’s usually raining all fucking day. After moving to Hawaii, I’d wake up and see it raining and be like, “shit, rainy day” and then like 2 minutes later it would be sunny & beautiful.

32. The most popular place for people to go vacation is Las Vegas. Local people LOVE Vegas. Plus there are phat deals especially for the locals. You can practically vaycay in Vegas for the same price as going to Maui or another outer island. Certain hotels in Vegas have special deals for the Hawaiians, most notably the California in downtown.

33. which leads to my next dillio, the outer island holoholo (vacation). You can hook up phat deals if you’re a local resident that include air, room, & car for going to the neighbor islands, like Maui, Kauai, Big Island, even Molokai & Lanai. Sample pricing for a local: Mrs. P & me went to Maui last year for 5 days 4 nights and air/room/car package cost us about $700, which included a pretty nice hotel, nothing like the fukn Ritz, mind you, but it wasn’t Motel 6 neither. The year before when we went Big Island, I think we only paid like $600. good times.

34. Traffic is way worse than you would think for a little island in the middle of the pacific. In fact I read somewhere recently that Honolulu is the most traffic congested city in the US. (I don’t know if I buy THAT, but it is pretty fucked up sometimes). A big part of the problem is that there a lot of the outlying areas only have one route into town, which means they get backed up to hell, and you get people with a 2 hour commute that are only traveling like 30 miles or some shit like that. This leads to drastic differences in real estate pricing around the island depending on how much traffic you have to fight during rush hour to get to & from town (well, also dependent on the quality of the neighborhood).

35. On the windward side of Oahu there’s a huge sandbar, which is basically a shelf of reef covered with sand that kind of “floats” out in the middle of Kaneohe Bay. It’s kind of like a beach out in the middle of the ocean, that only exists from the morning time until around 2 in the afternoon, then it gets covered by the tide. People take their boats, outriggers, canoes, etc. out there & bbq and hang out & party out on this big patch of sand until the ocean washes it away in the afternoon. You can chase around turtles, kick back with a brewski, ya know, duwhatchalike.

36. the public school system here is a fukn travesty. It’s a banner year if Hawaii is any better than 48 on the list of 50 states regarding quality of the school system. Which is all part of the dogshit corrupt local government which up until this year was run by the democrats. (see #13) The state government totally runs the school system through the dept. of education, which is so totally fukn overrun by beuracrats you’d have to go through there with a fukn machete to clear out the riff-raff, which hopefully our new republican governor is making some headway on. For this reason, anyone with money sends their kids to any one of a number of very expensive yet well-regarded private schools. It’s truly ridiculous how much money goes through the DOE and how little of it is used for the schools. Fukn bandits.

37. No squirrels. No snakes either. There are a lot of animals that are disallowed. If you ever come to Hawaii, notice they’ll make you fill out a declaration that you’re not bringing in any foreign biological objects. This is because we have a delicate island ecosystem, so it would be easy to fuck it up. An example is Guam, which ended up getting snakes years and years ago, the snakes killed all the birds, and now you’ve got fukn snakes everywhere. So but yeah, no squirrels, which took me a while to get used to, and I always make it a point when I go back to the mainland to capture one & make it be my temporary pet. I make it wear a little costume with a big “S” on its chest. The “S” is both for “squirrel” and for “scandalous.” Don’t ask.

38. Surf Contests. Every winter there’s lots of surf contests up at North shore, and the population of the area jumps from like 3,000 people to like 40,000 people, or something like that. One of the most prestigious contests is the Eddie Aikau invitiational, which can only be run if the waves at Waimea Bay are bigger than like 25 feet or something like that, so it only runs every few years. Eddie Aikau (pictured, above) was a Hawaiian waterman who died during the Hokulea, which was when they built an old school Hawaiian ship to recreate how the ancient Hawaiians must have traveled between Hawaii and places like Fiji and other far away places. They ran into problems and were lost at sea about 30 miles outside of Hawaii, so Eddie jumped on his surfboard and was going to paddle back for help. Well help showed up a little later, but they never found Eddie, he was lost at sea. This was back in the late 70’s. Anyway, he’s like a big local legendary figure. And any time you see those quicksilver stickers that say “Eddie would go,” that’s what those are about, because Eddie Aikau would always go, be it to surf a huge-ass wave or to paddle out for help.

39. which reminds me, that story gave me “chicken skin,” which is the Hawaiian term for “goosebumps,” ya know, that tingling sensation you get when something is spooky and or trips you out.

40. another little surf thing: when people measure waves here in Hawaii, they measure them from the back, whereas in most places on the mainland they measure them from the front (the face). This means that a 6’ wave in Hawaii is actually much bigger than what they would call a 6’ wave in, say, California.