Vote for Pedro and Other Subversive Ideas

Oh I've been to Indiana with a banjo on my knee...

2008-12-31T23:53:00.008Z

Cast (in order of appearance):
Girlfriend - Botany Babe
Mom - Milly
Botany Babe's little sister - Air
Social Studies Teacher - Scuba Steve
Botany Babe's younger sister - Southern Drawl
Brother in law - One Step
Neice - The Offspring

My girlfriend, Botany Babe, always goes back home to Indiana for Christmas and this year I decided to follow her.

So it started with this:

An early Christmas present. It was thermal underwear and wool socks. Sweet!

The day finally arrived for me to leave Hawaii. BB was already in Indiana for a week, and I was Jonesing to see her.

This was Lihue Airport, Kauai. Note the green tropical plants.

Then this was Honolulu International.

The stupid Pizza Hut Express ran out of pepperonis. How the hell can a pizza place run out of pepperoni in the middle of the afternoon?

My flight would take me from HNL to Chicago Ohare non-stop. That's one long trip, and I wasn't really looking forward to it. To make things even better, when I got to my seat on the plane, I found an old man in my spot. Meh. I figured I'd leave him the window seat since I may end up getting up to use the bathroom a few times. I should have known better.

Across the aisle sat the old guy's wife. She insisted on calling out to her husband several times during the flight. It wouldn't have been too bad if she had a pleasant voice, but no. My luck isn't that good. She had a nasally, whiny, old Chicago-lady voice.

"Fre--------------d," she would whine in an extremely annoying voice. I took it upon myself to do as much as I could to convey messages to Fred in order to shut the old lady up.

I landed in Chicago with only an hour of sleep. Fricking old people. Fred kept snuggling up to me. Ugh! But Chicago Ohare looked very festive.

Then I looked out the window.

Fuck me! You see all that white stuff around the aircraft? That's snow. That's what happens when God says, "fuckit," and decided not to turn on the furnace in your neck of the woods. It was -7 degrees F.

To make matters worse, my flight to Indianapolis was on a small regional plane. The plane was so small that the jetway couldn't go all the way to the door. There was a 6 foot span from the jetway to the plane that used a plank. We had to cross this plank... in -7 degree weather... with 25mph gusts... brrrrr. the only protection I had against the elements was a hooded sweatshirt. It failed as soon as I stepped on the jetway.

At the end of the jetway, I found another guy, equally cool, huddled in a corner. "I'm waiting for the entrance to clear. I'm not gonna stand out in this weather." So we waited until the entrance cleared then did a scramble to get inside the aircraft.

Once inside, I found my seat. It was a small plane with 1X2 seating. I was seated by myself, without any Freds around. Life was good. The other passengers boarded and we were set to go. I sent a txt message to BB that we boarded on time and it looks like everything would go as scheduled.

Then the ground crew decided it was a good time to change the oil in the engines. Oh, they also mixed up the baggage so they had to waste time fixing that. Oh, and they had to deice the plane. I didn't notice any of the delays since I fell asleep, at peace, without Fred.

Forty-five minutes after our arrival time, we landed in Indiana.

My first views of Indianapolis.

Botany Babe's family home.

What's a furnace?

In an earlier blog entry about my trip to Minnesota, I had Machu Pichu's graduation photo. Yes, the one with her punk hair. This time, I found BB's grad photo. Screams "Hot Nerd" if you ask me. I love it.

BB introduced me to her mom. "Mom, he wants to know what to call you," BB asked.

"Well. Let's start with Milly for now until you tie the knot."

Heh. No pressure, eh?

Later that evening, BB and I were cuddling on the couch. Milly came out and took a picture of us. She reviewed the picture on her camera view finder. "Hmmm. It looked like she closed her eyes, but with him, I can't tell."

Steak N Shake, for you fans.

The next day we went out to Grandma's. Luckily it was no longer single-digit degree weather. It was 20 degrees. This is a fire. It's used to make things warm.

BB's little sister, Air, was the resident pyromaniac.

A local boy from Hawaii hiking in 20 degree weather.

Scuba Steve always wanted to be a Mallard Duck when he grew up.

This is the Cracker Barrel. Awesome pancakes. Huge breakfast menu. Smokey restaurant. They had a fireplace, and the smoke was coming into the restaurant instead of going up the chimney. Hickory smoked Nonwheezer.

The next day it was about 30 degrees. We encountered freezing rain when we had to bring BB's cousin to the airport.

Of course, freezing rain isn't too much of a problem if your car has a good defroster. Unfortunately, the defroster wasn't working right. No matter how much I tried to move the slider, the defroster wouldn't come on. So we had to stop a few times to scrape the ice off the windshield.

Then about 5 minutes from home, we started getting really hot inside the car. BB asked, "isn't there some other setting you could use to get the heat off our feet?"

I took a look. Wow! What do you know? The vent controls were buttons, not sliders. I was playing with the wrong thing the whole time we were out driving. One push of a button and the defroster came on. The windshield cleared in a few seconds. Our feet cooled down. BB gave me a look, but said nothing. She's great at not calling me an idiot even though it's implied.

My first encounter with butter nut squash.

Back at Grandma's for Christmas Eve. This time BB's maternal side of the family would be there, including her sister, Southern Drawl. Southern Drawl also brought along her husband, One Step, and their daughter, The Offspring. BB loved playing with The Offspring.

Great hiding spot.

Big dinner. Grandma makes a kick ass ham. I think she slow cooks it for four days.

After dinner, we headed for Midnight Mass. Here's BB with her brother. The whole family kept teasing him about his hair.

Last month, BB warned me that we would be attending mass. I joked that it would be easy to find me since I would be the only Asian in the church. Heh. Turned out I was right. As soon as I walked through the door, all eyes were on me. I think they knew who the heathen was.

They keep Baby Jesus locked behind bars in jail. Religion is a dangerous thing.

The next day we visited BB's paternal side of the family. Can you believe they could squeeze 200 people into this house?

"Mom. Dad. This is Larry Kroeger, the boy who molested me last month. We HAVE to get married."

Most evenings we would stay up late and chat with Air. One night while chatting, I leaned over and gave BB a big kiss. BB laughed and turned to Air. "I'm sorry Air. I know you don't like affection."

"But you do it ALL the time! You're soooo weird," Air exclaimed.

That became our catchphrase the rest of the trip.

Here's a parking structure at Purdue. This is where One Step proposed to Southern Drawl.

Purdue. If you clap in this circle, you'll hear a chirp for an echo.

We went out to eat with One Step and Southern Drawl at the Applebee's in this mall.

At the end of dinner, the waiter brought the tab. He took it upon himself to split the tabs. One Step looked them over and noticed they weren't correct. After a short discussion, we figured it out. "I know how he split it," I said. "All the non-whites are on one tab. (singing) One of these people are not like the others. One of these people doesn't belong..."

One Step called the waiter over and pointed out the mistake. The waiter apologized and went to fix the error. He returned and the new tabs were exactly like the old ones. We gave up and just sorted out the money amongst ourselves.

Right after dinner, BB and I walked to a nearby jewelry store. The salesgirl politely asked, "is there anything I can help you with?"

I held BB and said, "yes. We HAVE to get married in 7 months..."

The salesgirl looked speechless. BB spoke up. "He's kidding." They both laughed, and we started to look at the diamond jewelry.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the time is now 9:00 and the mall will be closing," said the disembodied voice on the PA.

"What? The mall is closing," I asked a saleslady. She replied in the affirmative. I took BB by the arm and said, "well tough luck, Babe. I guess you don't get anything." And we headed out the door.

"No no. We can stay open a bit longer. You have a brochure? Come back tomorrow, OK?" The saleslady tripped all over herself trying to make a sale. We had a nice chuckle as we left the mall.

Oh, the Adventure Follies people were hoping it would be cold and snowy while I was in Indiana to make up for all the times I spent the winter warm in Hawaii. Too bad for them it just got warmer and warmer the longer I stayed. It eventually hit 67 degrees.

We watched a movie about gay vampires.

BB's Purdue friend had a huge home. Her basement was larger than most people's houses. This is her closet.

And her bathroom. I love the shower.

BB's favorite relative and the maker of the best ham in the world.

Air found a knitting machine then spent the next 47 hours playing with it.

Abigail! The first day I arrived, this dog wouldn't come near me. Later, this dog wouldn't stay away. This dog would rather play with me than with BB. And she got these huge, soulful eyes. Cute dog. I wish we could take her home.

On the last day, BB passed out on the couch after lunch and slept for three hours. I think two weeks of Christmas activities caught up with her.

Indiana International. A new airport.

With a great view of the rising sun.

LAX.

We had a two hour layover in LAX, so my childhood rascal friend and his girlfriend came out to meet us. They were actually in Hawaii while I was in Indiana. He came over to visit me and was surprised I was in the mainland. Luckily he returned to LA the morning we were passing through, so we could all meet.

His girlfriend is a living saint. She must have infinite patience to cope with his wild and crazy antics. I heard she won his heart by buying him garbage bags for his apartment.

Our adventure ended on New Year's Eve. Botany Babe is no longer my girlfriend.

Political Fun Raiser

2008-10-09T01:27:00.002Z

Nonwheezer's Mom: I volunteered Botany Babe and Machu Pichu for Kouchi's fund raiser.

Nonwheezer: uh... OK.

Botany Babe: No problem. I can help out.

Nonwheezer's Mom: Call Machu Pichu later and let her know.

That was a month ago.

This past Sunday, the three of us (BB, MP, and I) headed over to Kilohana to help out at Councilman Ron Kouchi's fundraiser. It wasn't a bad deal. We got free dinner and t-shirts for the effort. That, plus it was pretty fun.

Well, it may not look it, but MP really did enjoy herself. As long as there are lots of people around, she can enjoy anything. Even a prostate exam... and she's female.

If you're new to Hawaii, you may have heard of the traditional luau. I'm not sure if this night qualified since I've never been to a touristy luau before. But if you're ever invited to a local-style party luau, this is what you'll get...

Mac Salad. This can come in various varieties. The top end versions have onions, potatoes, carrots, peas, relish, and eggs mixed in. I think our version just had peas.

Lomi Lomi Salmon. This was the real stuff. Many times you'll go to a luau and only get lomi lomi tomato. The cheap stuff leave out the salmon.

White Rice. Get used to it. No one eats Hawaiian food with mashed taters.

Chicken Long Rice. Rice noodles with chicken, onion, and a bit of green leafy stuff.

And the main dish: Kalua Pig. Traditional kalua pig was slow cooked in an underground oven. I'm not sure how this one was made, but it was good.

MP was on mac salad.

I was on lomi lomi salmon.

BB was on rice.

Someone-whose-name-I-do-not-know was on the chicken long rice.

Nonwheezer's Mom was on the kalua pig.

After an hour of serving, we were relieved and allowed to eat. We served ourselves, so we made sure we got nice, big portions. After eating, I almost convinced BB to dance with me on stage with the live band. (I'm kidding.)

Fantasy Island... for cheap.

2008-09-06T04:08:00.003Z

Welcome to Fantasy Island.

How was your Labor Day weekend?

It's not like I really care to know. I'm just asking so that I can talk about my weekend and gloat.

Yup, I had a great time. Pretty close to a Fantasy Island type mini-vacation. In fact, when it was over, I felt almost like Edward Anderton and Jocelyn Kirsch. If you don't know who they are, they are the young, attractive couple that ran an identity-fraud scheme. They stole the identities of their friends and neighbors, and used stolen funds to vacation in Hawaii, London, and Paris. But unlike them, I actually paid a little bit using my own money.

So what did my Fantasy Island weekend look like?

How about three nights in a million-dollar home. This house was located on a really lush hillside. My favorite part of the house was a former patio. It had been enclosed and made into an extension of the living/dining room. The walls were nearly all glass windows, and the room was surrounded by beautiful, large, green trees. It was like you could step out of the dining room and into a tropical rainforest. The rain at night added to the ambiance. That, and the house had great lighting with dimmer switches located everywhere to provide romantic mood lighting.

After spending the first night there, Botany Babe and I had brunch at a well established local restaurant that served good food with quick service and low prices. We had Quarter Pounder Meals.

Later that day, I went mountain biking. BB continued working on decorating an envelop box for a wedding. I may be biased, but I think she has great talent for decorating. She made a shit-ugly fishing box look like a present for the princess of Xanadu.

Then we met up at the $$$ House for our second night. This time, we spent the evening watching a classic movie on a 60 inch TV. You've never really experienced home theater until you've heard Jay say, "All you motherfuckers are gonna pay. You are the ones who are the ball-lickers. We're gonna fuck your mothers while you watch and cry like little bitches. Once we get to Hollywood and find those Miramax fucks who are making that movie, we're gonna make 'em eat our shit, then shit out our shit, then eat their shit which is made up of our shit that we made 'em eat. Then you're all you motherfucks are next. Love, Jay and Silent Bob," on a stereo surround sound system.

The next day BB went to church and I got to ride my motorcycle. BB got to show off her box (don't be thinking that about my girl) to her aunt, who then showered her with praise.

The third night went well. We got lots of sleep since we didn't have to be anywhere in the morning. We got out of bed at 9:30 instead of the usual 6:00. After washing up, we headed off to the mall.

We had an Asian style lunch. Very exotic. And reasonably priced too. (It was a Korean BBQ place) Then we went shopping. We didn't buy much, but we pretended we were big spenders. We looked at jewelry, and shoes, and pretty dresses. In the end, it's no fun to be in a mall without spending money, so we bought some tape and gum. Unfortunately, we ended up behind two old ladies at the register. It took us 15 minutes to get out of that store.

Once free of that retail establishment, we headed off to a spa located in a plantation-style resort. We got a couples massage... mmmm... It's a great feeling having someone rub your naked body for an hour. After that, we were feeling nice and mellow, so we laid in a hammock by the sea. It was the resort's hammock, and we weren't guests of the resort, but who cares? We enjoyed a nice hour cuddling to the sounds of waves crashing on shore.

Before we got too cozy, we headed off to yet another house we would never be able to afford. This one was located a bit off the beaten path. It was decorated with a classic touristy-adventurer theme. It was like a South Pacific movie poster. The house also had a great view. It overlooked about a mile of coffee fields with a clear view of the ocean.

But the real treat was the outdoor shower. BB and I were still slick with massage lotion on our bodies, so we hopped in the shower. Imagine a beautiful vine covered lava rock walled shower. There was very little wind, blue skies, and lots of hot water. I didn't want to get out.

And to finish off the great weekend, we ate free homestyle cooking courtesy of my mom. Heh.

PS: MPS and BiL, Machu Pichu tried to trick me into working for her at the farm fair. I didn't fall for it.

Beautiful Memory

2008-09-03T09:06:00.002Z

and I said, "I really loved this weekend with you, in the outdoor shower. The warm water splashing on us. The blue sky above us. The gentle breeze. The vine covered lava rock walls. The sweet smelling shampoos. The naked bodies slippery with soap. And you pointing out the pimple on my back."

Dinner X3 with a Movie

2008-08-28T03:48:00.002Z

Last time I tried to cook dinner for Botany Babe, it came out bland... a fact she has never let me forget. So to redeem myself, I vowed to cook her a good meal.

But first, there was a movie to see.

BB: Hey, what do you want to do tonight?

Nonwheezer: I don't know. Maybe we can just hang out and suck face?

BB: The new Jet Li movie came out.

NW: Really? Oh! Hmmm....!

BB: Hehe.

NW: Oh... I told Machu Pichu we would go and visit her this week. Wait. What if we go and see her before we go to the movie?

BB: OK. That sounds good.

NW: Yeah. Let me call her and let her know we're coming. I'll get her to cook us dinner too. She likes to barbecue.

(later...)

NW: Hey MP, what are you doing tomorrow night?

MP: Nothing. Why?

NW: BB and I will come over to your place.

MP: OK. What time?

NW: Oh, I figure about 6. We'll be going to the movies later. I would invite you along, but it's a Jet Li movie, and you hate kung fu.

MP: Yeah. 6? You guys want to have dinner?

NW: I thought you'd never ask.

MP: Haha! Yeah, right. So chicken?

NW: Nah. Steak. I plan on cooking chicken for BB for my second try.

MP: Steak? You gonna buy the steak for me?

NW: No.

MP: Bastard.

(that evening...)

I headed over to BB's place after dinner. We stayed in and watched a movie and sucked face.

The next evening we went over to MP's place and had steaks. After that, we headed to the movies.

Jet Li in the Mummy, yeah!

... errr.... no...

The movie sucked. Right off the bat, the movie was already putting me off. First, they said the first emperor of China, Qin Shi Huangdi, buried dead workers in the Great Wall. Um, you can't build a sturdy fortification with organic corpses that can rot away, weakening your structure.

Second, the picture they showed of the Great Wall...

Was really the Ming Wall, built over 1500 years later.

When I pointed out these errors, BB said, "you're so sexy when you talk history." Heh. I love her.

If you get free tickets to watch this movie, scalp them. When the movie was done, all I could think was that it was a waste of Jet Li. BB agreed saying that they really didn't need Jet Li to kick Brendan Fraser's ass. They could have gotten some random person to do that.

The following day, I took BB to the grocery store. It was dinner attempt #2. However, it figured that the store wouldn't have the kind of chicken I was looking for.

Chicken... how hard could it be to find chicken breasts?

I found some chicken patties and suggested dinner ala school lunch. BB just gave me a look. Pass on that idea.

So we ate out. Imu Hut. Good teri-fried chicken. If you're ever in Hanapepe, HI, try this place.

To make up for the lame movie, we watched another kung fu movie. This time with Jackie Chan. And even better, the bullshit in this movie was purely intentional.

BTW, dinner attempt #3 was successful. Baked chicken breast. heh.

Crazy Guy on a Nude Beach

2008-08-17T05:43:00.003Z

House Monger: Hey, I'm free this weekend. Let's go hiking.

Nonwheezer: Okay.

HM: I want to go to that waterfall place.

NW: Okay.

(8:00 AM)

HM: Hey, change of plans. Let's go down to Mahaulepu. I want you to show me the nude beach.

NW: . . .

HM: I want to get rid of my tanlines.

NW: . . . uh.

And that's how I got roped into hiking to a nude beach.

NW: Alright. Pick me up at 10.

HM: Okay. See you then.

House Monger arrived promptly at 10:40, and we drove off to the south side. She had a lousy night with her partner (heh, sounds like she could be a lesbian, eh?) so we had to listen to depressing love songs. Lucky for me though, she kept talking and only stopped to breathe. Her chatter drowned out the sob-songs.

We left Mahaulepu. As you can see, the water looked great.

See?

Along the way, there were cool little spots like this.

30 minutes into the hike. Are we there yet?

Almost...

Sweet! Here it is. I don't know if it really is a nude beach, but it's secluded. You have to hike for about 45 minutes to get here, and there are many nooks and crannies you can hide your naked body in.

Frolic! Frolic! Frolic! Chariots of Fire!

I want to pump you up.

Um... I think this is sufficiently gay without any comment.

I was pooped after all that playing.

Dinner with a View

2008-08-15T04:20:00.002Z

Part of Botany Babe's job is to hike out in the boonies to collect rare plant samples. I figure it's a tough job, but sometimes you get to see some really cool things. On her last hike, BB took pictures of a few incredible views to share with me. I think they look so pretty that I have to share it with more people.

The other night I told BB that I was considering cooking for her again. Sigh... me and my big mouth. She told me how long she would stay with me depends on how well I cook. No pressure, huh?

So I arrived, ingredients in hand, and started cooking. Things seemed to go well. BB was in good spirits, albeit a little hungry. The food smelled decent enough.

And we sat down to eat. BB lit some candles for mood lighting, and played some nice music on her CD player. Things seemed to be going well...

Then she took a bite.

"This is... sort of... bland."

There went the relationship.

But it turned out sort of fun. It was like I was meant to screw up dinner. We had a good time making fun of my cooking, and trying out different spices to season my slop. However, the fact was my cooking sucked, and thus BB would have to end the relationship.

But wait!

I was clever enough to bring along dessert. Knowing BB's weakness for ice cream, I bought some mochi ice cream. It was enough to give me a second chance.

Now I plan on cooking some chicken...

RTFM

2008-08-15T04:06:00.003Z

If you didn't know, RTFM stands for: Read The Fucking Manual.

Bet you didn't know condoms came with manuals, eh? Now the fun part comes with reading the directions while you have a hard-on, with a naked woman by your side. Who the hell would do that?

Here's the part you can't really see in the pic:

Hold tip while you unroll condom... all the way down to the hair. [You're screwed if you shave or wax.] If condom doesn't unroll, it's on wrong [duh]. Throw it away. Start over with a new one.

The scary part is the pictures. Take a close look. The pictures are drawn in a really cartoony way. It's like Joe Camel... I think they're trying to market these condoms to kids. Perhaps they secretly want kids to start having sex. Maybe that's the reason why the male and female in the pictures have no bush, but instead have peach fuzz.

Ah heck. Maybe it might be a good thing for kids to start having safe sex.

Youth in Asia

2008-08-10T04:50:00.004Z

Just another short posting. This time the theme is Asia. That's right kiddies. Asia.

Asia is the world's largest continent. It is also where we find China. Right now, China is very important in the world. China is hosting the Olympics, banning the eating of dogs... temporarily, subjugating Tibet, and poisoning our pets and children with toxic materials.

But the food is excellent.

Last week Machu Pichu and I headed to the local Bon Dance. Tattoo Girl was supposed to come along, but got tied up. If you don't know, a bon dance (o-bon) is a festival celebrating and remembering the departed. What you would see at a bon dance would be taiko drums, food, games, and Japanese country line dancing.

Before I left for my month long mainland journey, MP, TG, and I had planned to go to a bon dance together. I was supposed to get my mother to teach them how to dance. I, of course, would have conveniently disappeared during that time.

So here we see MP in the ring dancing. Clazy Lound-eye.

Continuing the Asian theme, I had a dinner date with Botany Babe. I picked her up in the evening. Since it was a special event, I dressed to the nines. I had a t-shirt, an oversized pair of basketball shorts, and slippers. I looked HOT!

We headed to a local grocery store and bought frozen saimin. Then we hit a Chinese take-out around the corner. The proprietress was in a good mood apparently since she wasn't yelling at the customers or her husband. We got some beef broccoli and char siu.

Next, we borrowed my mother's (turns out she's integral to this blog entry) pot and saimin bowls.

About 20 minutes later... Voila!

During dinner, I tried to teach BB how to say "shiru" and "gochisousamadeshita". She came close on the first one. A lot better than MP, who not only messed up the word for soup, but also messed up the name of my friend on their first meeting.

When eating saimin/ramen, it is customary to slurp the noodles. BB, God bless her, worked on her slurping until she ran out of noodles.

Burp! 'scuse me.

Introducing: Botany Babe... (and a weird guy dancing)

2008-08-02T04:32:00.003Z

An earthquake hit California. A hurricane hit Texas.

What's going on? Seems like the world might end? It's probably my fault. You see, I met a girl. Her name is Botany Babe. We seem to be hitting it off well. I like her, and I'm pretty sure she likes me.

I mean... she bought me a CAR! How's that for a gift? The only thing I bought her was a scented candle and some ice cream. The way to a man's heart is a really cool mode of conveyance.

It's a Shelby Cobra. Heh.

It all started on out second date. We had time to kill before our movie (Mamma Mia) started, so I took Botany Babe to Walmart. I told her I would buy her a gift. Anything she wanted, as long as it was $1.89 give or take a few cents. She was leaning toward soaps, but then she found the scented candles.

On a later date, she said it was my turn to get a gift. We went into Long's and she set the price at $1.78. I headed for the Sanrio goods, but that was way out of the price range. I thought I would end up with something like sponges and cleaning supplies, when lo and behold, we ran into the toy section. Hot Wheels for $1.79. Sweet!

In other news, I was dancing in the canefield again when I totally remembered this video. Enjoy.

Rave Biker (31 year old English Teacher dances)

How to Succeed at Work

2008-07-26T01:03:00.004Z

How to succeed in the workplace: First, do not fall asleep during a mandatory presentation titled "Duties and Responsibilities of an Effective Teacher."

Second, try not to have the Principal be the one to wake you up.

Third, do whatever you can to stay awake during the presentation on teacher evaluations.

Just a little something

2008-07-21T21:13:00.002Z

The other day we were having lunch after mountain biking. Riley asked J, who recently moved to Oahu, if he still didn't have a car.

"It's shouldn't be too bad if he doesn't. Oahu has an extensive public bus system," I said.

Riley then stopped eating. "You know, just 'cause you're a world traveler, doesn't mean you're Jacques Cousteau."

*****

Prior to returning to Hawaii, I went into a Best Buy to pick up a portable dvd player. Best Buy in St. Paul has a clever gimmick. They hire cute, blonde, college girls who actually have brains. Now seeing all these girls led me to believe an ad I saw (can't remember where I saw it) was real.

I walked to the check out. It was manned by a young man in his early 20s. He had long nerd hair and wore glasses. Near the check out area was the Geek Squad counter. I queried the register boy about the ad I saw...

"You work here, and there's a Geek Squad right there. Maybe you heard of this..."

"Heard of what, sir," the trader asked.

"Apparently there's a girl who got fired from the Geek Squad. She says she's in college and needs money. So now you can hire her to play World of Warcraft, in your home, nude."

"Play in the nude? Why would anyone want that?"

I looked at who I was talking to and decided to give up. "Nevermind."

True story!

National Tropical Botanical Gardens

2008-07-21T20:37:00.002Z

There isn't going to be too much to write about in this installment. I just toured the NTBG and took a bunch of pictures.

After being in foreign cities for a month, I was kind of bored being back home. I hopped on my motorcycle and went riding. I stopped at the Spouting Horn and took some video on my cellphone. Unfortunately, I still haven't found a good, cheap (free), 3GPP2 video converter.

So after watching the ocean and tourist paying way too much for trinkets, I headed over to the NTBG. Machu Pichu works there.

You would think that at a garden, someone would water the grass.

It's almost as big as the world famous Minnehaha Falls.

These vines are over 150 years old.

Oh look. A monkey.

Going, going, gone!

2008-07-19T04:36:00.002Z

Camp House Grill, Kalaheo is closing down!

Machu Pichu is really sad about this. The burger joint was her favorite first-date spot. Her theory was that worth dating should be able to show up at this place on time. He should not be too good to eat at a run down burger joint. And he should be able to blend in.

There you go. Try blending into this place. Probably be easier if you had 6 legs and antennae.

I'm gonna miss the door that never closes.

I don't want to make it sound like the place was crap. The food was actually very tasty. The waitstaff, while not the fastest, was always friendly. Heck, I, myself, brought a date there once.

We had the last order of onion rings to be served in that restaurant. The owner handed us a pen and said we could write, "onion rings," and the date on the wall... or any other profanity we wanted. MP chose to draw an asshole using one of the onion rings as a template.

Omiyage

2008-07-17T21:06:00.002Z

Omiyage means souvenir. On my trip, I picked up very little souvenirs to give away. In fact, I hardly bought anything. I bought a shotglass, a pair of moccasins, and a poster. That's it.

This is the poster:

I bought it because Riley is gay.

One Week in Minnesota part Deux

2008-07-16T05:43:00.003Z

Yes, after Chicago, I ended up back in Minnesota again. My 1.5 hour flight lasted 2.5 hours due to a thunderstorm. Nibbs, a member of the nerd group... err... Adventure Follies, kept a watch on my flight and picked me up at the MSP when I landed. Later we went out to get some Chinese food.

I wonder who will be the lucky one? I still haven't brought joy to anyone. Hmmm.

The next day we were heading off to Hinckley. Nibbs had to work in the morning first, though. So I decided to walk around South Saint Paul.

The first order of business was getting a set of house keys. Nibbs emailed me directions to her ex-husband's house, and called her daughter to let her know I was coming over. BTW, I had met the daughter the day before. Strange girl. Most girls would put on clothes when strangers come around. This one just held on to a blanket.

Oh, and the directions I got were crap. It would have sent me 3 blocks in the wrong direction.

The sleepy town of South St. Paul.

So I got a set of house keys, and started to explore the town.

Closed. Out backpacking.

Closed. Death in the family. With a very detailed note explaining everything.

Closed. Make an appointment.

Closed. Go somewhere else.

Closed for the season. Haha!

Open! Yes! A little diner where you have old men talking about politics and news. There were Korean War vets complaining about the war in Iraq, the election, politics, etc. Then they started talking about the new iPhone with all it's new features, including high speed internet access. These old farts knew their shit.

Best cheeseburger I had on this whole trip.

Seeing as South St. Paul wasn't cutting it for adventure, I hopped on a bus to downtown.

It was empty when I started. It filled up pretty quick.

Nibbs: Squiggy, where are you?

Me: I don't know. I'm on a bus to downtown.

Nibbs: OK. I finish work soon.

Me: Take your time.

(time passes)

Nibbs: Where are you? I finish work in 25 minutes.

Me: No idea. I'm still on the bus.

Made it to downtown St. Paul. Yeah!

Nibbs: OK, I'm done work. Picking you up now.

Crap. There went the exploring.

Since Hinckley was about 80 miles away, Nibbs decided to rent a car.

I had nothing better to do while paperwork was being filled out, so I went around the corner and bought some drinks and a package of M&Ms. I eventually convinced the entire staff of the rental place to partake in the M&M feast.

Ah, my own room. Pretty big room too. It was pretty nice to be able to sleep, shower, and shit whenever I wanted.

Hinckley is a casino town. That made it weird for me since I don't gamble. I hardly drink too. So I occupied myself by talking to the shop workers, and walking around the casino while people-watching.

Nibbs had her friend, Capital B, meet us there and the two of them went off to gamble. I headed back to my room for a shower. I later met them in the casino bar.

These white people really couldn't dance. If there are any women who like to go out dancing, this is one place where I would be willing to dance.

Scarekrow. A country band. They did a cover on a Prince song. I can't remember which song, but it was pretty surreal.

Yeah, I don't stick out in this crowd.

The next day, Nurse Cindy was supposed to arrive. He, yes "he", ended up driving to Brainerd, which is really far away. He had a slight mix up with his GPS. In the mean time, Nibbs, Capital B, and I had breakfast.

Say hi to Cameo.

Me: Your hair is very cute.

Cameo: Thanks.

Me: (later) Can I take your picture?

Cameo: Sure.

Me: Thanks. You look similar to a friend of mine. She's from Minnetonka.

I was talking about Machu Pichu. Cameo had the same hairdo and a similar round face.

Nurse Cindy then showed up. He arrived on the red-eye, and he worked a full day before his flight. So what did we do? We dragged him out to Duluth, which was only 86 miles away. I drove. (Why? Because you make me car sick. But don't go pulling that, "you should have turned back there," shit. The guy in the Accord thought that was funny.)

Everyone in MN said I should go to Duluth. It's on Lake Superior. Apparently it really was the place to be. There was a dog show and a reggae concert going on at the same time. All the Ruff-tafari were out in force.

We ended up in a place called Park Point. Looks pretty nice, eh?

I was checking out the sights.

Duluth coast on Lake Superior.

Nibbs gave this guy a dollar, so I took his picture. Had to get our money's worth.

A Neptunian phallic symbol.

We ate at Grandma's Saloon and Grill. Grandma also had a restaurant, several stores, and a cookie business. My grandma, on the other hand, was a barber.

This bridge goes up and down to let boats through. I had a mean blowjob on the bridge. The wind was gusting so hard that it would literally push you to the side.

The beach. It was cold and windy. No one would be half naked. So what's the point? We turned back. Halfway over the bridge and an alarm sounded. They were going to raise the bridge. Luckily they waited for us to get to the other side.

This hottie couldn't stop taking pictures. I think she liked BIG THINGS that STRADDLES WET BODIES of water and GO DOWN.

At least one Dave was here.

Machu Pichu used to go on and on about Caribou Coffee. I finally went in and got a drink. Tasted like Starbucks to me.

At the table next to us, an older woman was writing in a little book. As we were leaving, I asked what she was writing. She said she was just keeping a journal, and that she was playing hooky from work.

Further down the street we passed a shop with a sign that said: Floor show and jazz. I asked NC, "floor show? What's that? Is that like hard wood? Pine? Maybe shag carpeting?" The older woman passed by. "It's a strip show," she said. Ah. Heh.

Get off my back.

Ahhhhhhhh... relief...

Once we hit the interstate for the drive back, Nibbs and NC fell asleep. Thanks guys. I always wanted to drive 86 miles in total silence.

The next day we left Hinckley and got back into South St. Paul. We found an Italian place that had great all-you-can-eat spaghetti.

It's SODA. While the Midwest may say POP, the rest of the civilized world says SODA. The weirdos in the south say COKE. It was a major topic for debate in the Enterprise rental office, Hinckley, and Duluth.

After dinner, back at Nibb's place, I heard some noise from the park across the street.

Community league kickball! How cool is that?

The next day I decided to ride the light rail system in Minneapolis. It's only one line so far, but hey, I love public transportation.

This train was way too clean.

It took me to downtown Minneapolis.

To a place called Nicollet Mall. It's several blocks of buildings lining Nicollet Avenue. Each building has several stores and businesses inside.

Some even have cool lobbies. And since MN tends to get cold in the winter...

They have skyways between buildings.

I actually thought this was common sense.

Since I was out early in the morning, most of these businesses were still closed. So I hopped on the train and headed to the Mall of America.

The Mall had just opened, so it was still dead. This girl had some time to kill before kids would start rushing her skin painting booth.

Since I already did the mall two weeks ago, I was bored. Luckily NC was around. We drove to God knows where just for fun.

Now you can purchase your own Asian.

NC and I ended up in downtown St. Paul. We were trying to find some place to eat. But guess what? Downtown was like South St. Paul. Every place was fricking closed. Seriously. We tried like 5 restaurants and they were all closed.

We ended up eating in one of these diner cars.

Then we spent the evening kicking back in Nibb's house until dinner. That was a fiasco too. The first few places we tried were closed. I wasn't surprised. Applebee's was open though.

Say hi to Amy.

Amy came to our table and asked if we wanted anything to drink. She put some cardboard coasters on the table. They had beer ads on them.

"Hey, you guys serve beer here!"

"Yes we do," Amy said. She listed off a long list of beers.

"Do you have Mic Ultra?"

"Yes. Not draft though. It'll be in a bottle," Amy said.

"Stop being a sissy," Nibbs chimed in. "Drink a real beer."

"I like Ultra too," said Amy.

"Me too. It's great for watching the figure... not that you would need it," I said.

"They even have fruit flavored Ultra now," Amy said.

"Really? Maybe I should try that."

"Oh, we don't have the fruity ones. Besides, you're a man. You don't need the fruity drinks," said Amy.

"Yeah. I'm a man! Yeah!" And I flexed.

I would later make life hell for Amy. I couldn't figure out a dinner combo without ending up with two salads. Eventually we figured out a 7oz steak, with a ceasar salad (no dressing), French onion soup, and a hot fudge dessert.

Amy came out with my soup. It had cheese in it. I didn't know French onion came with cheese. I wasn't even halfway through the soup when Amy came back with my salad.

"Whoa. You're doing a good job of feeding me. You're one of those marrying types."

Amy laughed. "I don't think so. I'm not the one cooking the food."

"Doesn't matter. You're the one providing it for the man," I said with a smile. Gotta love waitresses. They have to put up with all the shit and lame jokes with a smile.

Before we left, I asked Amy if I could take her picture. Nibbs told her it was for my blog. Amy laughed right when I clicked the pic, so she looks funny. She didn't care. She said she always looked bad so it didn't matter. (I disagree with her looking bad.)

Time for me to fly back home.

Phoenix.

"Attention passengers, this is the captain speaking. The good news is that we arrived 20 minutes ahead of schedule. The bad news is that our gate is not ready so we will have to wait on the tarmac until it clears."

(15 minutes go by)

"OK, here's an update. The aircraft at the gate is starting its pushback so we will be able to pull in shortly."

(more minutes go by)

"Attention passengers. Earlier I said we would be pulling in shortly. Well, the pushback has been completed, but now a tug has broken down..."

I eventually made it to the airport.

One Week in Chicago

2008-07-12T01:22:00.005Z

Back in May, I attended my cousin's wedding. Unfortunately for the family, several cousins told me if I was ever in the Chicago area, look them up. Little did they know that I was going to be in the mainland for 25 days. Just a few website clicks, and Chicago was added to my itinerary. Several relatives will forever be scarred by my visit.

Here's my cousin Smooth's house. There were extensive renovations taking place. Dust was everywhere. The bathrooms had no doors. Debris was everywhere. But it was still way better than staying with Belize. The house was just three blocks from the train station, and my cousins made me feel at home.

The younger of my cousins: Father D. D not only stands for his name, but also for dyslexic. He originally thought I was staying until Saturday, and made plans for me with my other cousins for Friday night. When I told him I was leaving Thursday morning, he called the cousins and changed the plans to Thursday night.

The Hood.

For a second, I thought Father D was gay. I mean, why else would he have a calendar with naked men on it? Turns out it was Bruce Lee.

My cousins have a "thin" mirror.

There was a chocolate stream near the house. At one time it was clean and children used to raft and swim in it. Now it's a biohazard soup.

I frikkin love cities with extensive public transportation.

I love the ads they post in said public transportation even more.

I got a transit map and figured out the lines. Ended up in Chinatown. Sweet.

I hopped back on the train, got off one stop later, jumped on a bus, and ended up...

At the Shedd Aquarium.

Downtown Chicago looks great.

Oh hey, here's the Field Museum. I had a pre-paid ticket for admission.

Fat lot of good that did me. The "purchase ticket" line people got in faster than me.

OMG! Sue the T-Rex!

You'll never know when you'll need a copy of the Book of the Dead to combat mummies.

Downtown Chicago.

You know how I know you're gay? All three of you have the same haircut, same blue colored shirt, same style cargo pants, and white sneakers.

Oh, you know where I'm going.

To the top, Baby.

AHHHH! It's King Kong! Oh wait... this ain't the Empire State Building.

The next day I found the Magnificent Mile. It's high priced shopping along Michigan Avenue. Took me a while to find it though. It was cloudy, so I couldn't tell which way was north.

Oh, so close to buying jewelry for a girl again.

I went in to the GAP to use the restroom. This poor sap was sitting there waiting for his wife while she shopped. He was still sitting there when I left.

My family will get this inside joke. BTW, $220 for a pair of men's jeans is highway robbery.

Mensuits of New York. And like NYC, they had scaffolding all over the building.

WTF?

Chicago River Taxis.

Hey Billy from Family Circus. The Lego Store had several all-lego displays like this.

The one thing everyone said I must do in Chicago. See a Cubs game at Wrigley Field.

I got to see the 2 run homer in the 4th inning. Cubs beat the Reds 6-2.

After the game, we went out for deep dish pizza. Smooth made conversation with the hostess and waitress and had them eating out of his hand. Of course he used me as the hook. "Well, my cousin from HAWAII said he wanted to..."

Odelia the waitress came by with another pizza. "The other guy gave you guys the wrong size pizza. This is yours. We'll only charge you for one." Sweet. Burp. I felt 5 months pregnant after that.

Cousin Smooth did not want to be seen with me.

The next day Father D an I rode bicycles to the lake. This path goes on for 35 miles.

Thar be palm trees... in Chicago. They were setting up an arena for professional beach volleyball.

Navy Pier. Mall, museum, and amusement park all wrapped in one.

"Can I take a picture of your shirt," I asked.

"Sure," the girl replied.

"Is it fun working out here on the pier," I asked.

"Most of the time, yes," she replied. I noticed her accent.

"You're not from here, are you?"

"No. I'm from Ireland."

"No kidding? I'm practically Irish. My name is Seamus."

Love and marriage, love and marriage...

Some random fountain at an art institute.

This fountain was cool.

The faces were animated, and once in a while, they would spit out a gush of water.

The swung around on poles. That's all they did.

The Bean.

My other cousin, Musicman, played a concert here in the evening. He plays violin.

Musicman and my other cousin, Big Sis's house.

Note how nice the neighborhood is. It's a place where everyone knows their neighbors, and whole families go out for walks. Big Sis walked me around and introduced me to everyone we saw.

Big Sis drove me to the Bahai Temple. I'm not sure what it is, but it looked cool.

Chicago was the first place I ever saw fireflies. I made my little cousin run around and catch one for me.

They took me to a fancy steakhouse called Pete Millers. The waitress came out with a tray covered with different cuts of steak. She explained the difference to us, then we ordered. The cheapest steak was $36. Ouch. I also won the Guess-the-Accent contest. I correctly guessed that our waitress was from NY. She was from upstate NY, like Roktt.

I ran out of time before I could catch a play. I wanted to see Wicked. Oh well. I guess I'll have to come back to Chi-Town again. Either Big Sis or Smooth would let me crash at their places.

Luckily Smooth remembered when my flight was, and got me to the airport in time.

One Evening in Wisconsin

2008-07-11T03:47:00.005Z

The day started off normal for your average metrosexual. MP, MPS, and I went shopping. We first headed off to DSW... a shoe store.

MP immediately bought three pairs of shoes then disappeared. MPS tried on 18 pairs of shoes, then settled on three. Me, the all-male-metro, resisted the urge and only bought one pair of Rockports. Fantastic!

Next we went to Trader Joe's. Once in the store, I quickly got chilled to the bone. It was obvious I was not from Minnesota since the natives were in shorts and t-shirts and they were sweating. I think it's all the muktuk they eat.

Before heading home, we hit Pei Wei. It's an Asian food eatery. The food was pretty good. I would eat there again. MPS drank three glasses of iced tea, which caused her to chat non-stop for the next three hours.

Once back home, MP called. She was in Wisconsin and told us to come on over. After a jog and a shower, MPS and I drove over to Burps' house over the St. Croix River.

For those of you that don't remember, Burps is the tiny woman who belches and swears like this: God bless America! Frick!

Where am I?

Ah, Hudson, WI. Seems we've happen upon a festival of sorts.

So Hudson is right on the St. Croix.

Fishing, boats, and beer. Fishing optional.

"You got a purdy mouth."

and I moved along...

"Want to enter the raffle," asked some Wisconsinite.

"Do I have to be present to win," I queried back.

"Nope."

"OK. I'll buy a ticket."

The guy then took down my contact information, being extra careful when he wrote down my phone number.

I spoke as clear as I could, "***-***-nine tree five *."

"Haha tree," MP laughed.

"Whatever. I'll be the one laughing when I win the car," I answered back.

"Yeah, and you'll pay for the shipping."

"Then I'll just take the $25,000. I'm sure it cost way less to ship cash across the country than a car."

Burps, MPS, and me. We were eating at some nice restaurant overlooking the river.

MP ordered some cheese curds. Deep fried cheese. The world's most unhealthy food. MPS said it was a major cause of the heftiness of the MN women.

After dinner, we decided to work off the calories by walking to the fair and playing...

BINGO!

Hahaha! I so became lower middle class. You can see who the amateur is. I could only handle one card at a time.

Burps won. MP won. I got jack. Hell, one round I only got one number before someone got bingo.

OW in MN Addendum

2008-07-10T05:04:00.002Z

I forgot to mention this...

Several people have mentioned that Minnesota has some of the worse drivers in the US. I agree. I also know why. Minnesota is the only place I've been to that does not paint white stop lines at intersections. WI, HI, NY, CT, IL, Tokyo, and Kyoto all have those lines. Hmmmm.

One Week in Minnesota

2008-07-09T14:39:00.006Z

I once commented on how Machu Pichu and her friends are like characters from a movie. They're very interesting and odd, just like movie characters. Movie characters aren't average. At least not the ones with any real role in a movie. Thus, I present Machu Pichu: The Movie!

Machu Pichu: Former punk rocker. Globe trotter. Not afraid to drag her friends into random sex shops, yet thinks men shaving pubes is a bit much.

80s Big Hair! hehe

Sasquatch: Former MP lover. Large and elusive. Rarely photographed.

Ben Stiller: I'm not kidding. MP has a cop friend that looks like a blonde Ben Stiller.

Jeezer (I may have the name wrong): A marathon runner who can't stop for a minute. She came, said hi, then ran off. Seriously.

Burps: A tiny lady with a big belch. When she swears, it's, "God bless America! Frick!"

Bam: Slams his hand on the table for every paragraph spoken. Eats plain pasta covered with ketchup.

Sunshine: Mousy voice. Always cheerful. Always smiling. Always Prozac. She reminded me of the mom character from the movie Airborne.

Indian Giver: Big and boisterous. This woman has a personality that seems larger than she appears.

Anyway...

On to the story. I returned to MN after a week in Manhattan. And once again, I stayed at Machu Pichu Sister and Brother-in-Law's home.

Complete with kite-eating tree.

As soon as we got there, MP set about trying to visit everyone in MN. Luckily MPS and BiL were kind enough to show me around. Heck, they were awesome hosts. They kicked out their son, Billy from Family Circus, and made him sleep in a tent in the backyard even though the nights got down into the 50s. All so I could have a bedroom to sleep in.

We went to the "New" Zoo. Nice place. The most interesting attraction was the humans. Amazing how humans with strollers think they're the kings of the jungle. They run into people, block exits, and crowd in front of viewing areas. I stole candy from the babies when the parents weren't looking.

After the zoo, BiL took me on White Bear Lake. This was the first time I was on a boat on a lake. Another tick mark in my life's checklist. Now being a boating noob, I wore a life vest. I figured that it was a huge lake, and if I fell out, it was a really long swim. Then I remembered that most of the lake was less than 5 feet deep. I took off the life vest. People stared at me less.

Rich white people.

An hour of fun only cost $19. See the girl talking to BiL? She was representative of 90% of the Minnesota women. Sturdy builds. Hardy breeds. Or as MP would put it: Minnesota has a lot of fat people.

So most of the women had paunches, guts, or beer bellies. I think it allows them to hibernate during the winter. They live off their fat stores.

I had to pee real bad when we got off the boat. The girl in yellow told me my options. I could use the true outhouse nearby, or cross the street and use the bathroom in the business there. The outhouse had a line (why?) so I crossed the street. Lucky me, the toilet was full of someone else's business, and it was clogged. Screw it though. I had to pee. So I aimed where there were no logs.

When I got out, I informed the teenaged staff that it wasn't my fault. The counter boy remembered a drunk saying something about the broken toilet. He then started arguing with the counter girl on whose turn it was to clean the bathrooms.

The next day we went to the Science Museum. MPS and BiL got us tickets to a Star Wars exhibit.

This was on display with other quack medical devices. It's a prostate warmer. It was claimed that using this provided lots of health benefits. I'll test it out and let you know. I'm feeling a bit under the weather.

Sweet...

Awesome...

Almost as good as Lo Pan.

I used to target womprats back home too.

MPS found someone shorter than her. Notice how she forces herself to keep from blinking?

After that, MP took me to a bar to meet her friends.

We crashed at Indian Giver's place. Huge house. This room was set aside just for play.

I was watching A Night at the Museum.

A huge 90+ pound dog. I can't remember his name, and I think he couldn't remember it himself since he was a thousand years old.

MP disappeared the next day and left me in the care of Indian Giver. Gotta give IG credit. She didn't know who I was, but she put me up for the night, and drove me around the next day.

Ground Zero. MP's ancestral home.

IG and I hit the Mall of America. She thought it befitting to park in the Hawaii section.

Walking through the mall, I had a feeling of deja vu. I came across three different Sunglass Huts. I was told that was normal.

The next day we hit the Como Zoo. The Pink Princess had some blue cotton candy which she proceeded to get all over her face. It looked like a blue beard. The zoo also had a small amusement park to help rip you off... errr generate revenue.

OMG! I loved this ride when I was a kid!

Sibling rivalry. MP and MPS hanging out.

And now you know. Feel better?

That evening, BiL took the kids to a cabin by the lake. MP disappeared. So MPS and I went to Marketfest.

There was music...

and dancing...

and a high school musical...

and a lot of fatty foods. Cheese curds? My arteries cry.

My last day there, we hit Minnehaha Park.

I checked out these cannons. They were pointed away from the Mississippi River, which I thought was weird. I was later told that they were there only for decoration. They were pointed at a bridge though, and I contemplated blowing the sucker up.

Mississippi River.

Locks.

To go through the locks, you need a boat, fishing gear, and beer. Fishing gear optional.

MP's dad took us to a fancy restaurant.

MP's dad told me I was welcomed at their house any time. They have a spare bedroom. And if Hinckley (later in my trip) didn't work out, he would come and pick me up.

Me: Hey, I think your dad likes me.

MPS: He likes anyone who will listen to him.

MP: He's really lonely.

*****
I had to get up at 4:30 AM to ride to the airport. My flight to Chicago was at 10, but MP's flight back to Hawaii was at 8. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

ps: I know I repeated a pic, but I'm too lazy to change it.

One Week in Manhattan

2008-07-06T23:05:00.006Z

I should have taken a left turn in Albuquerque.

To begin my month-long odyssey, I had a quick stop over in Minnesota. I met Machu Pichu’s sister (AKA: MPS) and her brother in law (BiL). I also met her nephew and niece: Billy from Family Circus, and the Pink Princess.

We had a nice dinner. I got to shower, which will become important to the plot later because I left my Japanese nylon wash towel behind, and sleep.

Well rested, we headed off to JFK. After that, it was a long train ride to the Lower East Side of Manhattan. Then BAM! I ended up smack dab in the middle of a kid’s birthday party. It was awkward, but I followed Tattoo Girl’s advice and smiled while I kept my hands in my pockets.

We stayed at MP’s friend’s apartment in the Lower East Side. Her friend, Belize, is rather um, unconventional. Nuff said.

The next day MP and I hit the town.

My first, of many, slices of pizza on this trip.

Outside NBC. We were too late to be on the Today show, but the crowd was still there. They had a cop stationed there whose job was specifically to say, “move along; you can’t stand here.”

My first view of a mounted cop. Not sure what his job was since all he did was sit there and ignore us.

Rockefeller Center yay!

Funded by NY State, some guy made a 65’ tall erector set building. I wish I got paid for playing with my toys too.

I didn’t get to look at the merchandise, but they have great bathrooms.

St. Patrick’s Cathedral: Incredible place. I loved it. I didn’t understand much of it… But who can understand those Catholics anyway? MP lit a candle for her mother (MP’s Mom: Uh, you only do that for people who are dead).

“OK, now I’ll drop a dollar in the donation box,” said MP. When we looked at the donation box, it said, “suggested donation $2.”

“Two dollars my ass!” and a lightning bolt nearly struck MP down. She was spared damnation when she dropped a handful of coins into the box.

I was going to buy a lucky girl some jewelry, but then I came to my senses.

They actually have a queue to get on this thing. MP is playing with her piano. I’d rather play with my organ.

Even a Lego Darth Vader is no match for Lo Pan.

I loved this wall. It’s now my cellphone wallpaper.

The next day MP and I went to see Belize's daughter's 5th grade graduation. Celebrating mediocrity. It ran for two hours. TWO HOURS. Each kid had to perform some talent for the audience. One girl got up to the mike and recited a poem. "Pain...," she started. She eventually went on to talk about abuse and kidnapping. What a wonderful graduation poem.

Made it to the outskirts of Chinatown. The “Yu Hung Lo” jokes only lasted so long.

St. Paul’s Church. They were next door to the WTC, and was a leader in the rescue/relief efforts.

Times Square. I ended up buying a Quicksilver shirt there. What I should have bought were knock-off D&G purses for $25.

I took the 3 hour Circle Line tour around Manhattan. The views and the weather were great… until we got stuck for 30 minutes waiting for a bridge operator to raise a bridge. While we were waiting, it rained and got really cold.

Hey kids, Big Ben, Parliament, Statue of Liberty.

Yankee Stadium. OK, move along. We saw enough. Baseball is boring.

MP shooed away some tourists just because she wanted this pic.

Handsome Cabs: $34. Ride around Central Park behind a pile of horse poop: priceless.

This statue was hot! Literally. MP wanted a pic with her sitting on the statue, and I think she burnt her arm. It didn’t help that I took forever to take the picture heh.

Metropolitan Museum of Art: More culture yay! I got to see a whole bunch of beautiful artwork and artifacts. There was tons of the stuff around. Who would have thought museums would be full of those things?

There was this huge Egyptian tomb exhibit in a large room. Hundreds of people were going through that room. The outside wall was made up of many mirrored windows, and outside the window was a woman sunbathing. Odd place to sunbathe, but who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth. I took MP’s camera.

The Tomb of Assfurtitti. It was nearly perfect, but there was a crack in it.

Apparently there was a guy behind me who was watching me. “Alright, man,” he cheered. Then he got immediately hit in the ribs by his girlfriend.

In another hall was a collection of European armour. I spelled it with a “u” since it was European. At the end of the hall was a portly suit of armor. It was Henry VIII’s when he was older and obese. “Hey Squiggy, look at the fat guy,” MP shouted and pointed to the suit of armor. Right then, a fat guy walked in front of MP. I held my breath for a second to see if he was going to snort and charge, but the behemoth passed by without incident.

We thought of Indian Girl when we saw this. Not because of the big boobs, but because of the wild hair. Oh, who am I kidding? It was because of the big boobs.

Central Park Turtle Lake.

Belvedere Castle.

Bethesda Fountain. In the arcade there was a guy dressed like an Aztec warrior playing a violin. Bet you didn’t know that Aztecs rocked the string instruments.

The Great Lawn.

This girl would pose motionless for 5 minutes at a time… and people gave her money for that.

Strawberry Fields

This guy, Gary, does all the flower things each day. It’s not like he has to be anywhere else.

Central Park wildlife.

Central Park professional wildlife.

Eventually, we left Belize. The situation was a bit too difficult to stay for the rest of the week. MP got on the phone and found us a place about 5 blocks away.

Since I had forgotten my wash towel in MN, I ended up buying what I thought was something similar. It wasn’t. I ended up buying something akin to 60 grit sandpaper. It scraped off the top layer of my skin. It was tolerable on the arms and legs, but when I tried to wash my bits and pieces, YOUCH!

The place that we got was pretty tiny. But since we weren’t going to be spending much time there other than to shower and sleep, it was perfect. It was also way cheaper than a hotel. There was one small problem though. It only had one bed. I wasn’t about to take the couch. For one, I was sleeping on an air mattress on the floor for the last four days. Second, the couch was tiny and curved. I wouldn’t have fit. It turned out OK though. MP kept to her side, and I kept to mine. We never crossed the imaginary line of demarcation the divided the bed between Portugal and Spain.

That is, until one morning… I came out of the bathroom, bladder empty. MP was still cozy in bed. I ran and flopped on the bed… MY side of the bed. Little did I know, MP had encroached into my territory. I landed on her foot. For a few seconds, we just stared at each other, neither acknowledging the contact, then…

“My foot is touching your penis.”

I pretty much got off the bed as fast as I got on it.

MP’s first serving of sake in a traditional wooden cup. She liked it so much that after dinner, we found another bottle in a liquor store and she drank it all herself.

De La Vega. He had all these crazy drawings like “Homosexual Elmo” and “My Mother as the Ayatollah.”

My first Broadway show.

Broadway Part Deux:

We decided to try and catch another Broadway show instead of a movie. So after 3PM, we went to the TKTS booth to try and get half-price tickets for that night. There was a huge line. I stood in the queue while MP went to get cash. Now here is where it gets fun. MP returns and hands me a brochure for Cirque Dreams and some cash.
“Blah blah did you want to see the street vendors,” asked MP.

“No,” I replied.

“OK. I’ll go check it out.”

The queue moved quickly and I got near the front of the line. I call MP just in case. She doesn’t answer so I leave a voice message.

“I’m getting near the booth. What are your other choices in case Cirque is sold out?” I assumed she wanted to see Cirque Dreams otherwise she wouldn’t have given me the brochure.

A few minutes later, MP calls me. “Blah blah Phantom blah blah Grease. Phantom over Grease though.” This is when I’m in a sea of people fighting to get to an open ticket vendor.

I get to the front of the queue and lo and behold, Cirque is still available. So I grab two tickets. Bad move Squiggy. MP didn’t want to see Cirque. After berating the aurally challenged Squiggy for a few minutes, MP calms and we move on.

(now, let’s try this story again)

Squiggy is in line. MP hands him the brochure for Cirque Dreams and says, “this is not Cirque du Soleil. Let’s see something else. Did you want to see the street vendors?”

Minus the voice mail I left MP. She never heard it. “This is what I want to see. Phantom would be my first choice, then Grease, then whatever… But Phantom over Grease though.”

Funny how a few missed words can really affect a conversation.

I was hungry.

Can you guess where I’m going?

This is not the same lobby as A Night in the Museum.

Imagine the size of the dork.

I’m home.

Trust me, I do… a lot.

Kong or Sleepless…

I can see my house from here. JK. On a clear day, you can see 4 states from the Empire State Building.

Grand Central Station.

The last place I visited in Manhattan.

And the last interesting sight to see.

While sitting in JFK waiting for our flight, one of the Delta employees went on the PA system to page some missing passengers. “Passengers Wang, Hunter, Wood, and Urethra, please report to gate 23.” I’m sure they didn’t really mean urethra, but that’s what it sounded like.

Sundries and Undies

2008-06-18T20:59:00.003Z

Picard hates fat kids.

I have a problem. My problem is shrinkage. It's rather embarrassing at times, but it's something I have to live with. Each year or so, I find that I can no longer fill out my underwear properly. I guess that's to be expected when you go from a 10 to an 8, but I wouldn't know. (I went from a 34 to a 31 this year)

So a few weeks ago, Machu Pichu and I were shopping in K-Mart. Hey, it's cheap and convenient. We just had lunch at Colenti's. MP needed to buy sugar to bake some stuff. My guess is that she was going to make some of her special brownies. I think she got the recipe from Amsterdam.

While we were in the store, I remembered that I had to buy some soda for a meeting I had the next afternoon. Kill two birds...

Funny how those little shopping baskets seem so benign when they're empty. Add in a 6 pack of 20oz soda and a bag of sugar and the thin, metal straps become garrote wire. I guess I don't have the shopper's hand. The ones with three inches of calluses.

Of course it's only after we picked up the heavier items that I remember the lighter one like underwear. We sauntered over to the underwear section and started checking packages. Last time I shopped for underwear, I had Indian Girl with me, and she REALLY REALLY enjoyed checking the packages.

We had to check the packages for the sizes. Some brands go 30-32, 34-36. Others go 28-30, 32-34. Fruit of the Looms had the 30-32 size, which was what I needed. But then they had several different styles of boxer-briefs. They had trunks, blues, and regular. I had no idea what the difference was. On top of that, they came in different colors and patterns. MP made a suggestion.

"Go with the striped ones."

"Why? Would the horizontal stripes make it look fatter?"

I went with the Blues.

Then MP found a table with loose undies for sale. They were a dollar each. She held up a thong and said it was something I should avoid. I misinterpreted what she meant since I thought it was a female thong.

"No. It's for men. You can tell by the pouch."

And now I am the wiser.

"You know, I used to be soooo concerned about visible boxer lines," I said while popping out my arse, "until I started wearing thongs."

I'm not sure I could wear something like that. I mean, I already have problems with my thigh chaffing.

Dave Barry beat me to it.

The End.

So what's the punchline? MP needed flour, not sugar.

You know what size thong/undies I need? SMALL. HA! How's that for a double entendre?

What's Your Compassion?

2008-06-16T03:27:00.002Z

"Hey, why don't you break off a piece of your meat and give it to those cats."

That started a whole conversation about compassion. I guess it makes sense to have a nice conversation with your friend about starving creatures while you're having dinner. Irony? Hmmm.

"What's your compassion," she asked.

Well, I'm not one to fed stray cats. I won't hurt them or torment them, nor would I make fun of their destitute situation and the fact that they cannot collect welfare. No. I'm not cruel. But I'm still not about to give them my dinner.

I explained that by letting the cats starve, I'm actually doing them a favor. By hastening their death in this mortal world, I'm giving them a quicker opportunity to be reincarnated as something higher up the evolutionary ladder.

By not feeding the stray cats, I'm letting them learn how to fend for themselves. If everyone feeds a stray, that stray will become too dependent on hand outs. Tough love.

And also, by not feeding them, I'm letting nature take its course. Humans tend to make a mess out of the environment whenever we interfere with nature. Who am I to interrupt the grand design. What if I had fed this cat and it had lived a day longer than it should. In the future, it ends up stepping on a micro-organism that would have evolved into the cure for cancer. Man, would my face be red.

As I explained my position, my friend fed the cats my dinner with my tacit approval.

Actions? Words? Hmmm.

This is seriously not good

2008-06-14T10:25:00.002Z

Sigh. My dog drinks my pee. Seriously.

I was out jogging with him in the canefield when I had to pee. He was completely covered in any mud he could find, so I waited until he ran past me before I let the flow loose. I didn't want a muddy dog rubbing up against me when I'm doing number one. When I finished, he ran up and lapped up any pee that hadn't soaked into the ground. I had to get a rock to make him stop.

WTF is wrong with him? Why can't I have a normal dog?

I swear I saw him eat some random shit one time. By random shit, I literally mean random shit. It was some dried up poop he found.

Why this dog isn't dead yet is beyond me.

Lead Balloon

2008-06-02T06:48:00.002Z

A friend was telling me about how his college roommate used to pick up chicks. He would use the line, "wanna get a pizza and fuck?" If the girl responded negatively, he would then say, "what? You don't like pizza?"

I thought it was funny, so I decided to call a friend and use that line on her for a laugh. I dialed her number. No answer. Hmmm. I tried again a few minutes later.

(ring ring ring)

"I'm at work."

"Oh. I was just calling to see if you wanted to get a pizza and fuck."

"Yeah... bye." (click)

Guess that joke didn't go well, eh? I need to stop listening to my friends. Either that, or maybe I should grow a brain.

Green Eyed Monster Sex

2008-06-01T02:58:00.003Z

Hey gang, I'm still alive. And Frank Dux and Chong Li are stoked to see me.

So what's been going on? Well, I finished one screenplay. It was about a teacher who falls for another teacher. I know, it's a stretch for me to write about a teacher. Anyway, after what seemed like a good romance, the protagonist did not get the girl. Once again, a huge stretch for me to write.

However, it turned out that screenplay sucked. Not much character development, and no good hook. Well, sometimes you have to be willing to drown your own baby, so I scrapped that project.

Now I'm working on a new screenplay. I'm about halfway done with the first draft, but finding the time and the impetus to write has been a bit hard. Hopefully once I'm done with the brats, I'll finish it.

So that's what has been occupying a bunch of my time. But life goes on...

Last week was a three day weekend. I was so hoping to have fun with everyone I know. Yet Murphy, or karma, saw fit to bring me down.

Friday: The House Monger called. "Let's get our groove on," she said. I have no idea what it is with dancing, but women insist on forcing men to make fools of themselves. I think it's a power trip. It's a power trip because I keep asking to be taught, but no one will teach me. They rather I jump in without any training for their amusement.

Didn't matter though. She never called back.

Then GSXGrrrl called to see what my plans were. Then she said she would call back.

She never called back.

Tattoo Girl was also busy. Fuck me. Life sucked.

Yay for video games though.

Saturday started as mundane as shit too. I changed the oil on my motorcycle, and cleaned and lubed the chain. Then I took a spin up the mountain. I wasn't feeling it, so I went back home. That's when GSXGrrrl remembered to call me.

We grabbed a pizza, the main food of the unintelligentsia, picked up L, then headed to Suzuki for an oil filter. After that we hit the Walmart like we were rednecks. On the way back home, we decided to take the bikes out for a ride.

Which brings me to the point of this post. L bought a new bike.

No, I'm not jealous at all. Why should I be? I mean, I'm riding a 5 year old econo-sportbike. I wouldn't desire a brand new top of the line 600, right?

I think I look better on this bike.

Yup, yup.

Now for the sex thing. They say, on average, intercourse takes 3 to 13 minutes. I had intercourse with the ground in 5. I had to ride my mountain bike perpendicular to a steeply sloped section of trail. My bike slid down the slope. I followed it.

I think my seat nailed me on the bottom of my right butt cheek. Feels like a bruise. Funny thing is that if it hit 3 inches to the left, I would have had intercourse with the bike too.

Hey You! My Classmate...

2008-05-19T22:44:00.001Z

I know you're reading this. Your new name will be House Monger (HM for short) unless you respond.

Have a nice day. Hope the magical hair care product did its job.

Ka'apoko Tunnel Hike

2008-05-04T07:56:00.002Z

This hike is a tough one. It can get pretty muddy, with sections so deep you sink down to your knees. There are also places where the trail actually angles down toward cliff edges. It's about 2.5 miles to the first tunnel, which is almost a mile long. There's supposed to be a second tunnel after that that's less than a mile, and it's supposed to bring you out to a beautiful waterfall.

It's an all day hike through mud, darkness, rain, rivers, and mosquitoes.

So when Machu Pichu emailed me that we're either doing this hike, or going on another one with the Sierra Club, I decided to try this tunnel hike again.

Here's the pics. No story. Too tired to think of one.

Bamboo Forest with bugs and mud up to your shin.

Nice view.

I was wet already from the rain and the bushes, so I decided to jump in. MP suggested I keep my clothes on.

Yes, it was muddy.

Found the tunnel.

Prepping. Needed to get out my flashlight.

And tabis she never used.

The first section of tunnel was cool. Almost a mile long, and you can see the light at the end, but it takes you 30 minutes to get there. This section had us ducking.

Nice river on the other side.

Apparently we got close to the second tunnel, but we just couldn't find it.

Short one

2008-04-27T08:43:00.001Z

Loneliness
Is a disease
That twists and distorts the soul
But is cured with a touch.

How's Tricks?

2008-04-14T04:12:00.003Z

Last night I went to dinner with my friend Machu Pichu. We had a burger and some fries, then headed to her place to surf the internet for cheap air tickets. Of course this is risky given all the problems the airline industries are suffering...

At her house, her dog, Honey, kept following me around like a crack addict school girl follows a stranger with candy. So I scratched her behind the ears. Then I felt guilty and dirty. I have a dog too, and playing with other people's dogs makes me feel like I'm cheating on a monogamous relationship. But I got over it and went to the bathroom. Honey followed me again. Why can't I get human females to be so interested in me?

After I was done marking my territory, I figured I would test Honey on how well trained she was.

"Sit."

Honey sat.

"Beg."

Honey begged.

"Speak."

Honey spoke.

"Change the oil in my car."

Honey changed the oil in my car but forgot to tighten the oil filter an extra 1/2 turn after gasket contact.

"Do my taxes."

Honey stared with a blank look.

"You didn't do your taxes yet," Machu Pichu asked.

"Oh, I did," I replied," but I wanted to see Honey do it."

Honey still had a blank look.

Which just goes to show you, boys and girls, that you can't teach an old dog new tricks.

Sophmoric Sophistry

2008-04-10T02:24:00.003Z

"Parting is such sweet sorrow... but meeting you is better than not having met you at all." That line was on an 8th grade girl's folder.

Funny thing, these middle schoolers are. They're children on the verge of becoming young adults. Having said that, they're mostly in limbo. They're learning the norms and etiquette of being an adult, but they're still clinging to, and basing life on, their childhood.

You see, many adults end up dismissing the social behavior of middle schoolers. They feel it is beneath them. Not worthy of adult attention. Much the same way, adults tend to overlook middle schooler feelings and emotions. I once shared a poem written by an 8th grade girl with some friends. The only thing those adults could do was point out how naive the author was. But is it naivete or just a fresh outlook on a future life?

I think one of the wonderful things about my profession is that I get to deal with people who are not yet jaded in society. They haven't been stifled by society's rules and roles. They're still at that stage in life where they wonder just why do they have to wear shoes to a fancy restaurant.

So when you come down from the ivory tower, you can actually learn a lot from a kid. Kids live life with passion. They don't realize that they're doing it, but they are. And that's one thing adults always bemoan. They always wish they had more passion in their lives.

You see, when kids are happy, they're not afraid to show it. They will smile from ear to ear. They will laugh out loud. They will dance and sing. Hoot and holler. All those things.

When they are angry, they let everyone know. They don't hide it. They will scream. They will scowl and clench their teeth. Their hands would be balled up in fists. And sometimes they cry.

When they're sad, they cry. They hug each other for support. They will actually tell you that they are feeling sad.

And when they're in love, that's an incredible thing to watch too. They act awkwardly embarrassed in front of the object of their affections. They will give their favs gifts. They do nice things for each other. And sometimes, they will do those things in front of their friends, risking ridicule.

How many of us adults can say that we live life as passionately as a middle schooler?

The only hearty laugh I recently produced was the result of a girl tickling my ribs. And the only time I heard her laugh as hard was when I tried to smell her feet... and gave her the "Portagee Torture". How sad is my life that I don't laugh like that more often?

Have I been so angry I had to scream? No. OK, wait. I've been frustrated to the point where I did have to scream.

I've also been sad enough that I, a grown man, got teary eyed. But could I do that in front of others? Could I grab my friends and hold them tight and share their pain? Stupid adult male role. Doesn't allow one to be too emotional.

And how about love? Oh boy that's a doozy. Let's just say that I've spoken and acted in ways which adults would consider weird... by their own constricted standards.

I haven't even told you the secret to all this. Just what is it that allows these middle schoolers to live so passionately? Memory. Or lack of it.

They don't think of the future in terms of years. They think of the future in terms of days. They don't think of the past in years either, but in days too. So any consequence, such as ridicule, only lasts a short time. Any hurt that they feel, is but a passing irritant. It's like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day. Once he realized there was no future, he lived each day like it was the last day of his life.

The kids do that too. Though not on purpose.

Once again, I've probably gone way off the point. But hey, I felt like writing, so dammit, I'll write. It's my prerogative, and I'm gonna forget all the snide remarks come tomorrow. Heh.

BTW, underneath that bit of philosophy on the folder, the girl wrote, "I poop rainbows."

Where's Waldo (Emerson)?

2008-04-08T20:15:00.000Z

“How the hell do I write poetry,” I asked my online friends. I’m not a poet, and my friends were eager to remind me. They suggested I stick with what I do well, which is prose.

Determined to prove them wrong, and with visions of wearing all black, sporting a goatee, donning a beret, and being surrounded by bohemian women, I set out to write a poem. But how do I do that? Well, I checked out some web pages on how to write poems. That prepared me as well as any college level class.

So on a boring Sunday, I hopped on my motorcycle, determined to write. I stopped by my work place to grab a tablet and a pen. Hey, there were some other people working. Crazy. Working on a Sunday. Don’t they know it’s the day of worship that should be spent goofing off?

Once armed with the tools of an author, I rode up the mountain. I finally made it to the canyon lookout, having to pass tourists like I was a MotoGP rider. The sky was blue. The air was cool. The breeze was gentle. The grass was green. The tree was lonely. So I sat on the green grass, under the lonely tree, feeling the cool air of the blue sky. And I wrote.

I quickly wrote two pages of really sappy stuff that I would be embarrassed to show my friends. If those pages ever got out, I would have to turn in my man-card. However, now that I had a bunch of thoughts, on paper in prose, I figured I just needed to distill the verbiage until what remains is just the essence of feelings. So off to riding again to reset my brain.

After a quick lap down the mountain and back, I started my rewrite. No wait. Before that, there was a Japanese tour group at the lookout. The translator was the mom of a childhood friend. She talked to me for a bit, then she talked to one of the female tourists. My Japanese sucks, but she explained how the tiger ears were mine, and how I was a 4th generation Japanese-American. That tourist kept staring and smiling at me. Of course I will admit that I am such a stud that foreigners can’t keep their eyes off of me, but I think the reason she kept staring was due to the way I was dressed. I had a shirt on that said, “pervert,” in Japanese.

So the tour group left and I was alone to rewrite my poem. I worked on it for about an hour. Scribbling, rewriting, erasing, thinking. In the end, I was totally unhappy with the result. I hate to say it, but perhaps my online buddies were right. Maybe I should forget about poetry and visions of beatnik grandeur, and I should just stick with prose.

The only thing I wrote that I was happy with was: She’s the etch on my heart that makes it skip a beat.

Watch That Floor

2008-04-06T20:10:00.004Z

I fell asleep on the floor last night. That's never a good thing. Now I feel like writing.

I recently bought the movie Enchanted with Patrick Dempsey. It was pretty good. I liked it. I think there was an article on how Dempsey is a rediscovered hottie. I wouldn't know since I'm not gay. However, people still insist that I might be gay, and even girls I've slept with suspect I'm a homosexual. I guess I was that lousy. But I digress.

Anyway, I was thinking about Dempsey in a non-Tony Curtis way, and I remembered two of his older movies. Loverboy and Can't Buy Me Love. I figured I would try and look up those movies to see if I could watch them again. Doing a search for Loverboy turned up music stuff, of course, but I did get a hit on youtube for Can't Buy Me Love.

When I followed the link, I found out that someone posted the entire movie. Sweet! But then I got distracted. That same person also posted the movie Girls Just Want To Have Fun. That movie starred Helen Hunt and Sarah Jessica Parker when she was young and mildly attractive. And that movie led me to Cyndi Lauper.

I have to say that Cyndi Lauper was one of (still is) the greatest female vocalists ever. Time after Time? Everyone and their sister does a cover of that song. Most of them suck compared to the original. It's like doing a cover of Open Arms. You can never top the original, so don't embarrass yourself.

Then I came across I Drove All Night. Three versions, to be exact. Roy Orbison, Cyndi Lauper, and Celine Dion.

The Man. Roy Orbison. The coolest legally-blind mofo. I give his version a 9 out of 10. Although the song is originally his, his version wasn't released until after Lauper's cover version became a big hit. But something about his voice and style rocks. And this video kicks ass. It's simple, but is full of passion. I figure that is the point of the song. Someone so in love that they would drive all night long to be with the one they love. Jason Priestly and Jennifer Connelly did an excellent job in convincing me they were in love.

I have to give this version a 10 out of 10. I just love Lauper's style. The video is meh though. Apparently, when the video first came out, it caused controversy since it shows her naked. Forward 20 years and I didn't even notice.

I know a girl who would totally match wearing Lauper's 80's collection.

(Dion's version would go here if it didn't suck.)

Crap Karaoke bar version. Nuff Said.

Oh, and I'm afraid of big spiders.

It's a Small World After All

2008-04-05T03:03:00.001Z

M-I-C

K-E-Y

C-H-A-V-E-Z

Kommuneekashun

2008-04-01T18:37:00.003Z

The way I communicate has been a topic of conversation recently. Someone whose opinion I care about, besides my own, said I was articulate in my feelings, and that I should write more poetry. Another person said I'm very analytical and observant. The same person also caught me using one-liners, though I'm not sure what I said. Yet another person described me as being laconic.

Now I will get this part wrong, and the girl will rag me about it later, but in a recent phone interview, I was given an example of how I write. Instead of saying, "a woman walked into the room," I would have described the woman and then point out how her green clothing brought out the color of her eyes.

(I just realized that this entry will be completely disjointed. Too bad. Deal.)

I tend to see myself as a left brained author. It might seem like I'm being creative and right brained, but I think it just looks that way. I mean, I know some literary devices, and if it feels like a logical place to use one, I just do it. It's like playing Tetris with words.

For example, while some more creative people would describe rainbows by how it makes them feel, I would try to find an original way to describe them. So in the end, a rainbow would be: a technicolor brow across the blue sky forehead.

(Yeah, this is gonna be a really sloppy entry. I should be working, not writing.)

You know, I wished I wrote down some of my so called one-liners. Apparently I said a few things before Indian Girl left that was amusing. Too bad beer does not aid the memory.

I do remember calling my UK friend an "other worlder". I was just thinking about how we Americans view the world in a USA-centric point of view. Everything is either American, or Other-Than-American. Thus, other worlder.

And there was this one time where I was completely at a loss for words. I blame a girl though. "Now I understand what it means to be lost in someones eyes." But sometimes it may be a good thing. The more I talk, the dumber the world becomes.

I did manage to spell the word "vagina" during a game of Scrabble. But my vocabulary is still stunted by living out in the middle of Nowhereville, Hawaii.

Now a friend made an observation that I tend to be patient and quiet, even about my feelings, or even when I have something to say. I think it has to do with my upbringing. I've never really sat and talked about my feelings with family. Maybe that's why I feel like writing sometimes?

That could be a reason why I seem to prefer female friends over male friends. Females communicate better... sometimes. Sometimes they're speaking on two different levels, and if my double entendre radar is off, I completely miss the meaning of what is said. But it is easier to talk to females about feelings. With guys, you appear less alpha if you talk about feelings. With guys, it's all about sex, ball scratching, and adrenaline bs.

OK, done. I should get back to work. And if this post makes no sense... err... sorry?

Jane, Get Me Off This Crazy Thing!

2008-03-31T01:32:00.004Z

I haven't cried. Indian Girl has moved away and I haven't cried. She cried. Machu Pichu cried. I still haven't cried. Weird. And I don't know why.

I've been feeling drained this last week. Sure as shit, life has been giving me the roller coaster. MP said a good cry would do wonders, but what can you do if you can't cry? I guess normally that is when you would turn to a good friend. Ironically, the good friend leaving is causing some depression that would require a good friend. Damn catch 22.

Indian Girl was a major catalyst in my life. I guess the fact that she knew she would only be here for 3 months made her take full advantage of every minute. To an outsider, it would have looked like she was burning the candle at both ends. However, I think she just compressed into 3 months what some people take 3 years to experience.

Adventuring, exploring, beaches, swimming, snorkeling, hiking, dining, making friends, meeting people, volunteering, playing, doggies, dancing, drinking, partying, relaxing, walking, jogging, romancing, and having sex. That's the kind of stuff IG did. But she didn't do it all herself. She took MP and me along for the ride. And I think I got to experience more in three months than I did in three years.

So today I've been depressed. The sad thing for me is that I'm not the type to go out and share my problems with anyone. Normally IG and MP would pick up that I'm not in a right state of mind, and would offer to talk, cheer me up, or just give me a hug. Stupid catch 22 though. IG isn't here, and if I see MP, it would just be a load that she doesn't need. I think I should have just screamed out, "FUCK!," in my helmet today.

Yeah, I rode my motorcycle today. I think I just wanted some time by myself. Can't get more by myself than in a helmet going 60+ mph. Then I did something I never did before. When I got to the canyon lookout, I got a soda, sat under a tree, and listened to Hallelujah on my mp3 player. Did I feel better? I really don't know. It did make me want to write though. So now I'm writing.

This morning I watched City of Angels again. It's about an angel who becomes human to experience everything human, including love. Then his love dies shortly after they get together. The angel was wracked with depression until another angel asked that if he knew this would happen, would he have become human. He then realizes that even though he was hurting now, what he experienced was worth the world to him, and he was able to begin healing.

So even though it feels like I have a big, empty hole in my heart, that's just an illusion. It's a false pain that will pass. Because the truth is that meeting IG has stuffed my heart with so many good things, my heart is now bigger. And the empty feeling is not really emptiness. It's just my heart waiting to accept more.

And pass me the low-sodium shoyu.

The Last Supper

2008-03-21T19:16:00.004Z

***Indian Girl is moving away!***

I met Indian Girl on December 28 or 29. One of those days. She had just moved to the island and was looking for friends to show her around. You see, she has the kind of job that takes her to strange places where she gets really physical with clients, and sometimes even have them naked. So she was going to be here for 3 months and wanted to enjoy herself.

At first I was shy. A bit quiet. But later I started opening up, and we started hitting it off like gangbusters. In fact, we liked each other so much, that we have one of those high school girl-like pacts. If she's not married by 40, I have to inseminate her. Now whether it will be through direct injection or a turkey baster is still up for negotiations.

I've been practically all over the entire island with IG. Tons of beaches, all the tourist spots, several hiking trails, etc. We've also been to many restaurants, to the detriment of my wallet. We're pretty much close enough that we know about each other's sex lives. Heck, she knows, from my experience, not to point a man's loaded weapon at his own face. Dangerous.

But now she's leaving at the end of the month. Machu Pichu and I have been telling her to come back on a new contract. IG has been telling us to go visit her... but I think she's going to end up in Hicksville, Shithole. I think an Asian guy like me would stick out worse than a skinhead in a synagogue.

As part of the events leading up to her departure, IG, Machu Pichu, and I, planned to have dinner at a fancy restaurant. IG was going to get ready at MP's place after work, and I was going to meet them there at 4:30 PM.

At 4:00, I was out of the shower, clean shaven (top and bottom, haha. Don't ask.), and getting dressed, when my phone rings. It was MP on IG's phone. "Hey, we need you to pick up some alcohol on your way over."

I got to the grocery store's booze section and I called MP back. "I'm looking for the Boone's Farm, but I can't find it." MP had me searching high and low, not because she's a control freak, but because I suck at wine selection. I had to read the labels of hundreds of bottles. She ignored me, then randomly chose some brand she heard of. At the checkout, the cashier made the guy in front of me donate to Muscular Dystrophy. When it was my turn, she tried to give me the money. WTF?

I got to MP's place and I found 2 tipsy women. MP poured me a glass of wine in a huge glass meant for lushes. I then had to stand in the bathroom while IG and MP applied makeup. I felt like a Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court. I did get to witness a makeup accident that turned MP in to a reverse blackface. Luckily she got it sorted out without taking another shower, which would have taken another hour.

"Just rub it off with a dry towel," IG suggested, "I do it all the time."

"You mean the towel I used to wipe off my naked body last time I was here," I asked.

"EEEEWWWWWWW!"

Yeah, thanks. I get that reaction a lot when women think of my naked body.

So while the girls got ready, and continued boozing (I stopped due to headaches), we just chatted like little girls. We talked about the usual things. You know. Sex, clothes, jobs, that kind of stuff. The two girls were also lamenting the fact that since they got to know each other, they've been gaining weight. They sure as shit did not like it when I explained that since meeting IG, my waist has gone from a 34 to a 31, and my shirt size went from L/XL to M/L. They did say that I better not get too skinny lest I end up looking like Riley. They also said that Riley is kinda cute, but needs to get some kind of personality, and needs to grow a pair so he can actually converse during dinner. I just got my dog's balls removed, so I guess he can have those. They were shocked when I explained that Riley rarely shuts up when he's out with the guys.

"I bet they not going bring my Pepsi. They always forget my Pepsi. You see that? The guy didn't even write it down. They going forget it. I never get my Pepsi," said Riley all through an hour long lunch ad nauseam.

Since I was the one who drank the least, I got chosen as the driver. It was like a scene out of Animal House. We all piled into my Yaris (chicks dig fuel efficiency). I swear I could hear some crazy frat boys yelling, "to the Food King!"

We got to the BeachHouse. It's a restaurant right on the beach in the Poipu area. Decent food with nice atmosphere and an incredible view of the sunset. Since MP was a concierge, she was really on the ball and FAILED TO MAKE RESERVATIONS. But no problem. We got there just a few minutes after they opened for dinner, which means we got one of the few tables that were up for grabs. IG and MP immediately started with the alcohol. I was the tea-totler designated driver, so I had a virgin Lava Flow.

We were drinking and talking, and we took over an hour just to order our food. IG's drink tasted like vomit, so MP, of course, said something to our waitress Christina, and got IG a new drink. When our appetizers arrived, the sun was nearly setting, so we went outside and took a bunch of pictures. We beat the tourists out there since they were waiting for the sun to touch the water. So basically, we kind of looked stupid in front of people we will never see again. Isn't that fun?

Then we went in and started on our appetizers. Then the sun reached the water and we went out again. Sucks for the people by the exit. I think IG actually bumped a guy each time we went in and out.

Our dinners were not bad. My entree came with asparagus. I guess my pee smells bad now. IG had fish. She always has fish. She likes fish. But, is that fish fishy? She doesn't like fishy fish. Her fish needs to not smell fishy. It also has to be really cooked fish. She doesn't like raw fish. Raw fish is too fishy and smells too much like fish. No surprise then that she thinks I'm gross because I like to go down on women.

Dinner was followed up with desert. It was some kind of chocolate soufflé with vanilla ice cream. For some reason, the manager also gave us a chocolate peanut butter ice cream dessert thingy gratis. I think MP must have batted her eyes at the guy. We always seem to get free stuff when she's around. Speaking of free stuff, MP tried to pimp me off to the waitress. Of course, I didn't know what they were talking about at first, and when I did figure out what she was doing, it was too late. Fortunately, for the waitress, she was already married to the manager. Now MP's new plan is for us to hit the bar on the military base to find me a GI Jane.

But back to the dessert. IG and MP both had orgasms from the first bite. That put me last in the race again. Fuck. IG wanted to take one of the desserts under the table. When Christina came around to check on us, the girls were like, "could we be left alone?" "Oh God! Oh God!" "Don't touch me. Don't touch me." I, on the other hand, was just munching away. Sometimes it takes me hours to finish a meal.

After two and a half hours in the restaurant, we were ready to leave. When the valet pulled up with my car, I paid the guy and proceeded to get in. MP stood by the passenger door with her hands on her hips and a big smile on her face. "Um, hello? Door?"

"WTF woman? You think this was a date?"

IG cracked up then kindly opened the door for her date.

The original plan was for us to go to Tree's Lounge. However, that bar was a bit far from where we were, so we went to the jazz bar Stevenson's Library. The jazz bar is located inside the Grand Hyatt, and when we got there, I wondered out loud if my friend Lauren was working at the front desk. This would later bite me in the ass.

The bar was dead, so we just had a beer each, talked a bit, then left. As we were leaving, I was looking at the concierge. I was thinking that MP could try for a job there since she doesn't like where she's working at now. The girls thought I wanted to hit on the concierge. When I tried to explain that I wasn't going to hit on the concierge, they then thought I wanted to hit on the girl at the front desk. Sigh. Women.

Back at MP's place, we downloaded the pictures we took on IG's camera to MP's computer. Of course we were all crowded around this one tiny laptop, like girls at a slumber party, trying to see the pictures. Then we sent them to my email.

Now comes the freaky part. I ended up looking at pictures of cocks with IG and MP. It's not something guys normally do. I mean, if looking at cocks would make my lover (female. Nice try you assholes.) get off, then by all means, I'm for it. But you don't normally look at cocks with your girl friends. And it was all INDIAN GIRL'S fault! Dirty, dirty girl. She told MP about the cock pics on craigslist, so MP wanted to see them.

"See? Have you ever seen a cock that curved down like that," IG asked.

"I have. But this one doesn't look like it's curving like that. It just looks like he isn't fully hard yet," MP replied.

"I don't know. I've never seen one like that. Might be kind of weird," said IG.

"I was with a guy whose cock curved downwards like a C," MP proclaimed.

"How the hell would that work? How would you have sex," IG asked.

"Well, when we had sex normally, it would be pushing into me on the bottom-side. But if I turned around with my ass in his face, it would work better... felt pretty good too," said MP.

"WTF!? Hello? I'm still here. Awkward!," Nonwheezer said with his hands held palm up, shoulder height in the universal WTF pose.

OK, so on to the pictures. My fingers are getting tired of typing. I posted a preview of a few pictures to my nerd group before going to bed and these are the replies I got when I woke up.

Minnesota Girl: Man, Hawaii is beautiful!

Lecherous Old Man: Twin peaks everywhere.

SUX IT Guy: IG could make a good living doing pr0n, IMO.

So here they are. Captions follow the pics.

I just got lei'd! And I didn't have time to finish putting on my pants.

"My drink tastes like vomit," said IG in a cheerful manner.

I came here one time and I ordered this drink and the setting sun shone right through it. It was beautiful. Hic! I think I need another.

Guess what these are. Never leave your camera unattended when you go to the bathroom.

Nonwheezer. "Oh, he looks good in this pic." Thanks girls.

OK, stand there. Now move 6 inches forward. Turn your head to look at me. Now smile. (MP micromanaging IG)

Wait. I think I have the flash setting wrong. Let me try this... click. Oh, hey. It came out pretty cute. (Nonwheezer)

Machu Pichu, Nonwheezer, Indian Girl

IG tends to be prim and proper sometimes. I could have sworn I heard her say, "you touch my ass and I'll kill you."

Contrasted by MP, who tends to have a higher blood alcohol content.

What are you two, on a date?

Wax On, Wax Off

2008-03-16T10:34:00.003Z

OK, this started as a post on a forum, but I think it's safe to post this as a blog entry. TG= Tattoo Girl= an incredible blonde. Machu Pichu= another blonde that likes to barge her way into my life.
********************

I made the appointment for wax and massages for 2:00 today (Saturday). I went bike riding in the morning since it's been nearly 2 months since I rode on the mountain.

I picked up TG around 1:45 and we headed down to the spa. The wax girl was waiting for us. She was an attractive hapa (half Japanese, half white) girl. She led us to another cabin where the waxing stuff was located. I laid on a table and the girl described what she was going to do. TG agreed with the girl's recommendations, so I said, "well since she's the one dating me, I'll go with what she said."

The waxing wasn't so bad. The only part that hurt was when the girl used tweezers. She also noticed TG's back tattoo and they started talking about it. Turns out the wax girl has cherry blossoms tattooed on her back.

"Am I the only one without a tattoo," I asked.

"Yeah, it's pretty rare now days to not have a tattoo. That just makes you unique," replied TG.

TG was pleased with how the waxing turned out. The wax girl also said it looked good. I guess they're right. It does make my eyes look bigger, which helps since I got them small asian eyes. I just lament the loss of my Sonny Chiba brows.

After that, we were led to the massage area. Since I requested a couple's massage, they had set up two massage tables on the lanai of the massage cabin. The masseuses instructed us to disrobe, put on a sarong, and lay on the table face down. They said that if we wanted our hips and gluts massaged, we should remove our undergarments. Then they left. I had to pee, so I went to the bathroom. When I got back, TG was already undressed and on the table. She was all smiles as I did a little strip tease in front of her. When I got to my underwear, I asked if I should get my gluts massaged. She pretty much said that since we were here... So I dropped the boxer-briefs. I think TG dug that. I grabbed the sarong and wrapped it around me and jumped on the table. I didn't mind being naked in front of TG, but the blinds around the lanai covered from the roof to about waist high. Anyone in the area could see my willy. (TG tricked me into thinking she was nude. She kept her panties on. Minx.)

The massage itself was good. I can see why some people go to spas often. When it was done, I was super mellow mellow. Kind of like floating. And no, I did not need a happy ending. In fact, it didn't feel sexual at all.

Then we went riding to Koloa, and then TG suggested we catch the matinée since it was too early for dinner.

It was in Koloa that TG confessed. She had looked up and peeked when the girl was massaging my ass. She said it looked hot. I think the massage went to her brain. I've seen my ass in a mirror. I wasn't impressed. As she looked at my ass being massaged, the masseuse looked at her and winked. When she told me that, I felt degraded like a piece of meat. Which means I loved it, of course heh.

We were too early for the movie we wanted to see, so we headed to Starbucks for a drink. We chatted a bit and shared a cookie, then we headed back to the cinema.

We watched Horton Hears a Who. Is there anything cuter than TG laughing in the movies? The movie was also pretty good. I thought Steve Carell did an excellent job. Now I wonder if I can convince/trick TG into watching Indiana Jones and Speed Racer with me.

After the movie we went to dinner. TG suggested Mexican. I said I never had it, but I'd try it. Funny thing is that when Machu Pichu requested Mexican on one of our lunches, I flat out declined and went for Korean instead. Guess that shows how they rank on the Nonwheezer-scale. hehe. TG, if you don't hear from me, check MP's trunk.

Turns out I did have Mexican food before. I guess I just misunderstood the whole Mexican food thing. I figured it would be Mexican CUISINE. Much like how you can have Chinese take-out, and Chinese cuisine. But TG put me straight. Mexican take-out and cuisine is the same thing. And to fully immerse myself in the Mexican culture, I had a Corona.

Back at TG's place, I drank nearly a gallon of water. I don't know what the deal was. I think the beer/burrito combo made me thirsty. We sat down and watched an independent movie called Close Your Eyes. It was meh. But having a warm TG snuggled up next to me made the movie more enjoyable than Star Wars: A New Hope, a movie TG confessed never seeing all the way through.

Did I mention I took every opportunity to smell TG's hair? Yeah, I'm a freak like that, but even after 9 hours, her hair smelled divine.

Oh, TG owes me lunch.

Wisdom of the Hike

2008-03-03T07:31:00.003Z

(Cue Indiana Jones theme)

Squiggy, the intrepid explorer, has gone where many men have gone before. However, his journeys have been unique in the history of mankind since it was the first time, in all known time, that Squiggy, himself, has actually gone somewhere. OK, enough of the inane babel.

I have hiked Waipoo, Kamuela, Sleeping Giant, Mahaulepu, Nualolo, Awaawapuhi, Kaapoko Tunnel, and Hanakapiai.

Through my adventures I have learned many lessons; lessons I will share with you today.

1. No matter where on the island you start, the trail will be uphill. Both ways.

2. No one likes Honey and Oats granola bars.

3. My cheapo, ill-fitting, Famous Footwear cross trainers have more grip than most hiking boots.

4. Black socks hide mud.

5. Girls: you can't beat them; you can't push them off a cliff.

6. Factor in another 120 minutes to your hike if you have a girl with a digital camera.

7. Spam musubi beat tuna bagels.

8. When a girl whines 2 hours into a 9 hour hike, sing a song inside your head.

9. Hiking sticks are for sissies.

10. If it has thorns, my friend, Indian Girl, will find it.

11. Hiking without reaching your destination is like sex without an orgasm. You get sweaty and have a wonderful time, but then you wonder how the ending could have been and you want to try it again.

12. Pack enough fluids and food for 1.5 people and carry extra footwear so a girl wearing slippers (flipflops) can show you up on the trail.

13. I suck at Thumb War.

14. Smaller people have greater stamina on the trail and they are easier to push off a cliff.

15. I pee 4 times as much as the next person.

16. Check the temperature of any body of water you plan to jump in. You don't need free gender reassignment.

17. If girls dare you to go skinny dipping by saying, "confidence is a big plus," don't listen. See #16 for what would be a BIG MINUS.

18. Don't try to catch falling kids.

19. Even after 5 hours of hiking, you too can find the energy to sprint to save your friends if they're in danger.

20. Before attempting #19, make sure your friends are really in danger and not just teasing a pig.

21. Pretty girls still smell great after hiking all day.

22. If a girl can tease you on a trail, she will.

23. Hike behind a pretty girl so you can watch her bum.

23A. And so she can't see you huffing and puffing.

23B. And so she can't smell you.

24. Addendum to 23: When you look at a girl's bum, you will trip on a rock.

25. I've sold my soul many times over to various devils and demons for hot water and soap.

Nonscents

2007-12-19T05:22:00.000Z

I went to the mall today. Yeah, I'm still under the weather, but I still had to go. I needed to pick up a gift for a grab bag. I ended up wandering into Macy's and decided I should check out some cologne.

I haven't bought cologne in a while, but I did look some up on the old intraweb. Lo and behold, several of the colognes listed on askmen.com were on the counter. So I grabbed some cards and started spraying. A cute Asian counter girl offered assistance, but I declined.

To let my nose recover from the cologne sniffing, I walked around the store and found a nice box of chocolates for my grab bag. I walked back to the perfume counter to find the cute girl waiting.

"Can I ring you up for that," she asked.

"In a bit. I'm interested in getting some cologne," I replied.

"Any particular one?"

"I was thinking about the Cool Water."

The cute girl finds the tester bottle and we try some on my wrist. It smelled a bit fruity and playful on my skin, so I start having second thoughts about this scent. I asked the cute girl for her opinion.

"It smells nice. Is that the one you want?"

"I don't know. It's been a long time since I bought cologne so I'm not sure what I'm looking for."

"Oh? What did you used to wear?"

"Polo. How about you pick something for me?"

"Hmmmm. I like these," and she pulled out three bottles. Then she started searching for cards. Her coworker was wrestling with the plastic shrink wrap the cards come in. Once they were free, the cute girl grabbed three and sprayed the first one.

"Hmmm," I nodded. The cute girl sprayed the second.

"Um, I can't smell a thing. Might be because I'm sick," I said. The cute girl laughed then went behind the counter to get a bag of coffee beans. "No really, I am a bit sick," I declared again only to hear her laugh again. Then she sprayed the final bottle.

"OK, this one smells a bit fruity."

The cute girl removed the last bottle from the line up. Out of the two remaining, I asked her which was her favorite. I figure a woman would have a better opinion of what smells good on a man than a man himself.

"I like this one. Can I try it on your other wrist," the cute girl asked.

"Sure." And she sprayed my wrist. She sniffed my wrists and declared that it was the better scent.

"Yeah. I like this one, but I don't want to make the decision myself," the cute girl said. I looked around, hoping to grab another female as a smell tester. Unfortunately, the only females around were of a nice, tender age that would get me arrested as a sex offender. The cute girl must have read my mind and she started looking for another available counter girl. A cosmetics girl came around and asked the cute girl what was up.

"Can you tell us which one you prefer," the cute girl asked the cosmetics girl, who then sniffed my wrists.

"I like this one," the cosmetics girl said as she pointed to the wrist that smelled of the scent the cute girl chose.

"Alrighty then. I'll take it."

"OK, this one comes in a gift pack," said the cute girl as she dug through a pyramid of gift packs. Eventually she found none. "I'm sorry. Looks like we're out of the gift pack."

"What came in the gift pack?"

"Shower gel. . ."

"OK, that's a bit too gay for me. I don't need the gift pack."

The cute girl giggled and got out a regular bottle. "Would you like to put this on your Macy's card?"

"No thanks."

"Would you like to sign up for a Macy's card?"

"I actually have one, but I just don't know what I did with it."

The cute girl giggled and said, "I can ring it up on your card through a search if you want."

"Nah. That's OK. I'll just use my regular card."

The cute girl rang up my bottle of Armani Mania and box of chocolates.

"Thank you very much," the cute girl said as she handed me my card and receipt.

"Thank you. . .," I tried to read her nametag.

"Shaeja"

"Shaeja. Thank you Shaeja."

"You're welcome."

"And thank you for making me smell like two different people."

(Giggles)"You're welcome. Have a good evening."

"You too. Enjoy the rest of your night."

So now I have cologne. I am one step closer to being a metrosexual.

Back to the Beach

2007-11-26T04:01:00.000Z

It's been about 10 years since I went to the beach to actually get in the water. So when the Band Teacher told me to go with her, I was a bit apprehensive. I mean, I'd have to get mostly naked in public. I haven't been naked in public since my stint as a stunt flasher. But the chance to ogle mostly naked women won out.

This is the view of the ocean from where we were sitting. It's at Poipu, Kauai.

You can't see the palm trees and pavilions behind us.

Once on the beach, I immediately began to warm up with some beers.

And I started to look for female butts. Sorry the picture quality is so poor. I have a crappy cell phone.

Lucky the BT is so cool. She said her cell phone camera was better than mine, so she tried to take some pics for me. She has lousy tastes though.

Beached whale?

Screw this. I'll just take a pic of the BT and post that up instead.

"Oh no. Don't post that pic on your blog. It makes me look fat," said the BT.

WHAT? where the hell is the fat? In your toes?

During this time, Riley was out on his lunch date. I had been egging him on all day yesterday, saying when I see his date, I'm going to hit on her soooo bad. I only did that so he would get off his ass and initiate a date with the poor girl. As proof that the girl did survive initial contact with the entity known as Riley, he sent me this pic. Of course, it could be a man in a wig.

After the beach, the BT and I headed off to a bar and grill for lunch. It's the same one where I hit on a waitress a couple of weeks ago. This time I didn't hit on any waitresses. A friend told me I shouldn't hit on the rest since they do share stories, and I would become famous.

Instead, I called over my waitress and said, "can I get your opinion on something?"

"Sure," she replied.

"My friend sent me this pic of his date. Does she look thirty-# to you?" I showed her the pic on my phone.

"No. Wait. No. She doesn't look thirty-#."

"That's what I thought. Hey, can I take a picture of you?"

"Well, I usually don't like how I look in photos, but ok," she said as she corrected her posture.

"Actually, let's take a picture together." I handed my phone to the BT.

She's right. She was way more attractive in person. The backlighting hurt the pic. And you can't see how great her legs looked. She said she was a runner. I believe her.

The BT said we should do this again next week. If I do, I'm buying a better camera.

Two Turkeys on a Ride

2007-11-23T07:30:00.000Z

Squiggy the sex offender flashes for Lauren.

"Great. Now we're trapped in here," said Gsxrgirrrl in a non-ending string of complaints.

Gsxrgirrrl found a dandelion to blow. In a related incident, Squiggy got pelted by dandelion seeds and spittle.

Squiggy still can't wear Women's Small.

"But," he said . . .

Gsxrgirrrl collapses after riding one handed for 20 minutes holding her fairing then wrenching it back on. "My butt looks big," she proclaimed.

I Should Not Be Allowed Near Women

2007-11-19T04:31:00.000Z

Been a while since I wrote something. I actually had a busy October, but I promised not to write about it. So you guys will have to be satisfied with November. For November, I seem to be having weird interactions with women.

This is what happened when the Band Teacher and I went out to lunch one day:

We were seated and a nice caucasian waitress came over to take our order. After she left, I said, "she looks like she works out."

When the waitress came back with our drinks, I asked if she works out.

"I surf and swim a lot. I haven't been to a gym since I moved here though. But I love the beaches around here. I'm from San Diego, but the ocean around here is just so much better. Is it my large shoulders? Back in school, the guys used to ask me to flex. Do they look weird?"

"Not at all. In fact, I think you look very attractive."

After she thanked me, she went back to work. I talked to the BT about body language and how it's fun to see all these couples here and try to figure out what's going on. Then I said that if someone was watching us, they would be wondering what the hell was going on. I was looking at every single attractive female in the place while my "girl" took it casually. The BT said that if they paid attention to her body language, they should know we weren't a couple. I told her she was wrong. Then I pointed out how the hostess wanted to seat us side by side.

I then noticed the waitress had her back to us while she fiddled with those computerized drink terminal thingies. She had nicely shaped legs, but the BT refused to look when I told her to.

When the waitress came over with our food, I spoke again.

"I never got your name."

"Oops. I'm sorry. It's C*****. We're supposed to introduce ourselves when we first greet the customers. . . [she spoke too fast at this point]."

Lunch took some time to finish. I had a really big cheese burger and the BT had a fish taco. I told her to be ready because I was going to make a fool of myself. C***** came back with our bill.

"Hey C*****, what do you think of this? I'm a 35 year old teacher. I love mountain biking and riding motorcycles. Any of that sound interesting?"

"Yeah! I love motorcycles."

"How about movies? You interested in movies?"

"Oh, I do love going to the movies, but I have a boyfriend."

"Might not be a good idea then."

"Yeah. But um, aren't you with, um. . . your wife. . . girlfriend?"

The BT piped up, "oh no. I'm just the sister he never knew he had nor wanted."

"Oh, you two are just friends," C***** asked.

I replied, "yup. But the funny thing is we were just talking about how people would mistake us for a couple."

C***** finished with, "you know what? Thanks. You really made my day."

"No problem. In fact, I really enjoyed looking at you." [wtf was I saying? I need to stop drinking beer during lunch.]

Later that day, on my bike ride:

There's this one female security guard for the hotel where we ride our bikes. I saw she was working today, so I was determined to talk to her before I left.

I pulled up to the guard booth, and she waved. I stopped, took off my sunglasses, and said, "you know, I see you here often, but I've never introduced myself. My name is Squiggy."

She stood up and came closer to shake my hand. "My name is C*****."

"Hi C*****. So how does a girl like you become a security guard?"

"You know, I'm not quite sure myself. I keep trying to tell them to hire more women so I'm not the only one."

"Hmmm. I'm not sure how you'll take this. I was going to say that you were the most attractive security guard around here, but since you're the only female one. . ."

C***** smiles.

"Well, I guess I should let you get back to work. It does look rather boring though sitting here all night. Maybe I should sneak in some beers?"

"I'm allergic to beer."

I look stunned.

"So what do you do when you go out?"

"I hardly go out anymore. I usually stay home. When I did go out drinking, I would drink hards."

"You usually stay home? How old are you?"

"21"

"Twenty one??? And you don't go out drinking?"

"I used to drink a lot in high school," C***** smiles.

"Ah, I got it. It's no fun now that you're legal, huh. Well maybe I can take you out for drinks one night. I'll see you around."

"Yup. You will since you've seen me often before."

She later declined my offer a couple days later to get drunk.

This happened during the work week:

Girl Student: Mr. Squiggy, Miss [cute Science Teacher] told me to ask you something.

Me: Um, kay. . .

Girl: I'll tell you after class. (40 minutes later) Miss Science Teacher told me to tell you to buy a ticket to my hula performance.

Me: Huh? Why?

Girl: She bought one, but she doesn't want to go alone.

Me: So she told you to ask me?

Girl: Yeah.

Me: Um, kay. . . how much is a ticket?

Girl: $20 for the dinner too.

Me: Twenty bucks???

Girl: Yeah. Miss Science Teacher bought the $20 one.

Me: Great. OK. Meet me during lunch. I'll go get my money.

Email to Science Teacher: You're going to drive for this.

After mountain biking:

In the afternoon, while we were loading up our bikes, a rental car pulled up to the lookout. Out popped some old fogie and a tall, attractive blonde. We made some small talk about things to see around there. She, her mom I guess, her grandpa, and a hot sister were out for the day touring. They came on a cruise ship. The tall blonde looked good, and she was doing stretches in front of me, but I couldn't bring myself to flirt with her. I guess I R-tard.

After jogging that afternoon with a girl:

The girl adjusted her sanitary napkin in front of me. I also matter-of-factly pointed out her nipples were showing. To which she replied that it's natural since she was wearing a sports bra and she was active. Then she started to poke at her nipple while I watched.

"Um, let's get going before something else besides your nipples gets hard."

The BT and I went to a bar:

There was another attractive waitress, go figure. However, she was dressed differently from the other waitresses. Of course, me being me, I had to ask. She explain that she worked behind the bar, and was also a food runner. She also explained that her uniform matched the guys, but of course, the one she wore was a more feminine style. I agree.

While the BT was settling the tab, I kept watching that attractive waitress. She was stocking some drinks behind the bar, and whenever she bent over, her top would lift a little and expose her lower back. I thought it looked great. No muffin top, no tramp stamp, no blemishes. Nothing but smooth skin. (The BT later asked how I was able to determine that in the poorly lit conditions. I hate her for ruining my dreams.) I decided I had to say something to the attractive brunette.

I took my chance when she walked past me. "Excuse me." She stopped. I reached out my hand, and she put hers into mine. I got to look at her close up for the first time that night. She was very pretty. However, several hours of mountain biking, including a crash, a 2 mile walk/jog, a couple of hours wrenching on a motorcycle, and alcohol, all conspired to give me the equivalent of a first grade reading level.

"Yes," she asked as I held her hand.

"You remind me of a Gilmore Girl." DOH!

To the old saleslady in a jewelry store:

"Can I get a fiance to go with this wedding band?"

In Macy's when a 5'8" blonde walked past me:

"Careful sir," warned a saleslady.

"Thud," said my foot as a kicked a shoe display really hard.

"Sorry. I was just looking at the pretty tall girl."

In a different store, helping my friend find a gift for his girlfriend:

Friend and I: Hi H****. (She was a friend's wife)

Me: Hey H****. If you were a girl. . .

Friend: What do you mean, "if?"

Me continuing unabated: What would you do if you got a stuffed animal as a gift? You'd probably just put it on a shelf or something, right?

H****: Yeah, probably.

Me: But what if someone special gave you a cute blanket. Or maybe a cute pillow. Wouldn't you love to get that?

H****: Oh yes!

(I threw in that last one more for discussion. Would women prefer something like a blanket or pillow to a stuffed animal?)

My Birthday Suit

2007-09-24T03:34:00.000Z

"Hey, what are you doing," The Band teacher asked.

"I was just getting my things together to go riding," I replied.

"You want to get lunch first?"

"Hmmm. Well, Satoshi said he was going to ride later in the day, so I guess... sure."

I threw on a t-shirt and shorts and headed to the BT's house. From there, we took her car to lunch since her car is cooler. My car is a Yaris. It's frugal and sensible. Not sexy. She has a TC. It's aggressive with attitude. Also, if we take her car, it's like I have a chauffeur.

The BT said she was craving a Loco Moco. That's an over-easy egg on a hamburger patty, on rice, smothered with brown gravy. So we headed to a popular motel diner. I ate a saimin. That's Hawaii-style ramen. She paid for lunch since she was the one to ask me out. (See The Blonde? The one that asks the other out pays. Normal, eh?)

After we finished eating, The BT wanted to do something else. She missed my birthday the week before, and wanted to do something special to make it up to me. I didn't have any objections. My other option was to hang out with two other people who possess penises. We hopped into the BTmobile and moseyed on out.

The BT brought me to a small, private room where she had me take off my clothes. She was totally in charge of the situation. She was domineering and imperious. She broke me like a wild horse. I had no choice but to obey her every command.

"Take this one. Put this on. Take that off. Put that in. Pull it out."

But even though she was the boss, she was still caring and made sure I was ok.

"How does that feel? Do you like that? Is that nice? You like what you see?"

We did this for about 7 or 8 rounds. By the time we were done, I was broke. I was spent. I was a changed man.

When we started, I looked like this:

Now I look like this:

We went clothes shopping.

Foreign Food

2007-09-19T05:47:00.000Z

It's been a while since Biker Teacher tried to get a date. He wasn't feeling too marketable after failing to even get a response from the Drug Pusher. But his feelings of rejection started to disappear when he met The Blonde.

The Blonde is an athletic girl. She showed some of her abilities during one of those ridiculous "team building" activities employers make you do. Seems like once word got out that Japanese companies made their workers do calisthenics, everyone in the world wanted to jump on the bandwagon and do crazy stuff too. She also talked about how she jogs every morning before work. It shows too. The Blonde is very fit and firm.

However, while a firm body evokes feelings in the nether regions, a great mind provides much fodder for fantasies. The Blonde’s brains provides a cornucopia of lust-fuel. It turns out that The Blonde possesses an advanced college degree. Not only beauty, but brains as well. A great two-pronged attack.

And yet, smarts and a bod may not always be enough. You got to have personality. And once again, The Blonde does not disappoint. Although she is inexperienced, she shows passion for her work. She also demonstrates the go-for-broke attitude made famous by the 442. She’s running into a few snags, but she’s still determined to be a success.

The Blonde is also a beer girl. Some girls are prissy and only drink wine coolers. Others are uppity and only drink wine. Others are ultra-feminine and insist on drinking colorful drinks that come with an umbrella. Beer girls are down to earth. They know how to enjoy themselves without being caught up in appearances. They exude self confidence.

Another way self confidence shows is through eating habits. If a girl is not afraid to eat in front of a guy, then you know she’s not going to be the type who will BS you. At the local pizzeria, The Blonde easily ate the most out of all of the table-mates, and also drank two Heinekens.

Biker Teacher was smitten. If The Blonde was a car, she would have had 300 horsepower, turbo charged, rear wheel drive, race suspension, a great stereo system, bucket seats, and still get 42 miles per gallon. With such a prize before him, Biker Teacher mustered his courage and searched for his danglies, since they shriveled in fear, and approached The Blonde.

“If you’re free this week, I’d like to take you out and buy you dinner,” said Biker Teacher.

“I’m sorry. I’m so busy. I don’t even have time to think about going out. Plus, I’m not sure I feel comfortable with you buying,” was The Blonde’s reply.

“If a guy asks a girl to dinner, shouldn’t he pay?”

“Yeah, but I have a boy friend. Would it be ok if we go Dutch?”

“Dutch? I don’t think so. I think I’d rather eat local food. Maybe I’ll call you again sometime.”

And the Biker Teacher went home to walk his dog in the rain.

I Get the Weirdest Questions

2007-09-12T07:36:00.000Z

From girls on my cellphone.

One night, out of the blue, a girl calls and asks:

"Do you have a foreskin?"

Another girl on a Sunday evening:

"Are you in your pajamas?"

"No. You know I don't have pajamas."

"So you're naked?"

It was a roundabout way of asking if I would go to the bar.

She also asked, "are you on the toilet?"

"No. If I was dropping a log, I wouldn't have answered my phone."

"I would. Haha. Just kidding."

If I was dating these girls, then those questions would be a lot more fun, but I'm not, so they just leave me confused.

2007-09-12T07:05:00.000Z

From The Blues Brothers

Jake: It's good to see you, sweetheart.

Mystery Woman: You contemptible pig! I remained celibate for you. I stood at the back of a cathedral, waiting, in celibacy, for you, with three hundred friends and relatives in attendance. My uncle hired the best Romanian caterers in the state. To obtain the seven limousines for the wedding party, my father used up his last favor with Mad Pete Trullo. So for me, for my mother, my grandmother, my father, my uncle, and for the common good, I must now kill you, and your brother.

[Jake falls to his knees]
Jake: Oh, please, don't kill us. Please, please don't kill us. You know I love you baby. I wouldn't leave ya. It wasn't my fault.

Mystery Woman: You miserable slug! You think you can talk your way out of this? You betrayed me.

Jake: No I didn't. Honest... I ran out of gas. I, I had a flat tire. I didn't have enough money for cab fare. My tux didn't come back from the cleaners. An old friend came in from out of town. Someone stole my car. There was an earthquake. A terrible flood. Locusts. IT WASN'T MY FAULT, I SWEAR TO GOD.

[Elwood covers his head in anticipation of more gunfire, Jake removes his sunglasses to make a wordless appeal, and the Mystery Woman visibly softens]
Mystery Woman: Oh, Jake... Jake, honey...

[Jake embraces the Mystery Woman and they kiss]
Jake: [to Elwood] Let's go.

[He drops the Mystery Woman and walks off]

I know how the woman felt. Well, not exactly. At least the woman got some made up excuses. I got nothing.

If you read the previous posts, you know that I was trying to get a date with a pharmacist. How did it go during the last month and a half? That's what I'd like to know. You see, I got absolutely NOTHING from the pharmacist.

Of course I could probably use a slap on the head for some of the idiot moves I pulled. I left some terrible voice mail on her phone.

"Hi (name withheld), this is Squiggy again. I know I left you a few other voicemails, but the truth is, I'd actually like to get to know you better. I don't know what it is; maybe because you're an intelligent lady, or maybe because you play video games. I'm a video game um... geek too. (The Band Teacher) told me about it. Anyway, yeah. Um, so I want to get to know you. Maybe take you to lunch, or dinner, or uh shopping? So um, yeah. I hope to hear back from you. My number is 867-5309. Yeah."

I also sent her a virus plushie with a note to try and entice her to reply to me.

Still no reply. It's times like this when I feel like the Elephant Man. Why the fuck is it so hard to get a first date? At this point, I really don't even care for the date. I'd just like to know why the pharmacist never bothered to reply. Could it be she thinks I'm some psycho stalker? Maybe. But we did meet in person a few times, and that was cordial. Could it be she's some narcistic ego maniac? I'd like to think so. Makes it hurt less when the bitch is off her rocker.

Bottom line, Girls, if a guy works up the balls to ask you out, just give him an answer. Doesn't matter if it's positive or negative. Just answer. If not, I will hunt you down and cut your heart out with a spoon.

Guy of Gisborne: Why a spoon, cousin? Why not an axe?

Sheriff of Nottingham: Because it's DULL, you twit. It'll hurt more.

God Strikes Again

2007-07-22T02:02:00.000Z

This morning I tried to call the Pharmacist before I went mountain biking.

(cellphone ringing)

Pharmacist: Hello?

Me: Hi, it's Squiggy...

Pharmacist: Hello?

Me: Hi. This is Squiggy. The Band Teacher's friend...

Pharmacist: Who is this?

Me: The Band Teacher's friend...

Pharmacist: I can't hear you. I'm having bad reception. Hang on a sec...

(call ended)

God: Take that, ya mutha (snickers)

God Said Squiggy Can't Be Happy

2007-07-20T01:15:00.000Z

A couple of weeks ago, the Band Teacher introduced me to one of her friends. We'll call her the Pharmacist. I found her to be rather cute and intelligent. However, me being me, I didn't make any advances.

Of course, you need to remember that every woman I found myself attracted to has some serious issue. Two girls turned out to be lesbians. Another turned out to be really a guy.

Anyway, the Band Teacher and I went to the movies last night. I was hoping the Pharmacist would come, but seeing as we were going to the last show, it was a long shot. Throughout the evening, while shopping and eating, I kept bringing up the Pharmacist. This kind of grated the Band Teacher's nerves. She was like, "just go over to her work place and ask her to lunch. Some girls actually like the spontaneity."

BTW, this is making me excited:

So after about 10 hours of convincing, I decided I would ask the Pharmacist to lunch. I got up this morning, stoked my courage, and drove to the mall. I went in to the pharmacy.

Me: Hi, is **** working?

Helen, my brother's co-worker's wife: No, not yet. She works the evening shift today.

Me: Figures. I was going to ask her to lunch.

God: (chuckles)

Helen: Oh, that's nice! She should be in soon. Why don't you come back and ask?

I go off to another store to buy shoes for my trip. I return to the pharmacy about 40 minutes later. Lucky me, I see the Pharmacist working at the window, so I don't have to announce my intentions to everyone working.

So I chatted with the Pharmacist for a bit. I made her laugh a few times. Then I took the leap.

Me: I came by here earlier looking for you. I wanted to ask you to lunch.

Pharmacist: Oh. I just got in about a half hour ago. I don't get a break for about 4 hours. (The clock in the store reads 11:55)

Me: So what is that, like 5? (wtf? All of a sudden I can't do math.)

Pharmacist: About 3:45-4:00. I'll call you. You have a cellphone?

Me: Yeah. My number is ***-****.

Pharmacist: OK. I'll give you a call.

God: (mutter mutter)

Given I had time to kill, I figured I would do more shopping, and also go to lunch with my brother. Of course, I only ate a wee bit. I had to buy some shorts since I only have two everyday shorts and I don't think running shorts would look good in Connecticut. I also planned on buying a new bike seat, and a Green Day CD that the Band Teacher was looking for.

Right after I picked out a pair of shorts, my phone rang.

Pharmacist: Hey, my co-worker can't come in today, so I need to take my lunch early before the others finish work. I'm just going to grab something here. Sorry.

God: Haha! Take that, ya fukker! (pumping fist in the air)

Then the sky blackened and the clouds opened. Torrents of rain came crashing down. Squiggy knelt on the ground, soaking wet, with outstretched arms reaching for the heavens screaming, "Why?!? Wwwwhhhhhhhyyyyyyyyyy?!?"

Something like that.

The Bird

2007-07-13T06:55:00.000Z

A crazy bird that always nests in a particular tree each summer.

Mountain Biking Rat

2007-07-01T07:32:00.000Z

Riley and I had about two and a half hours to kill on the mountain so we decided to make yet another mtb video. God knows my mtb videos are sooooo popular. They get literally hundred of hits on youtube. (sarcasm)

I bet if I got video of those girls in boyshorts that we saw earlier, the hits would go through the roof.

What's In Your Wallet?

2007-06-20T03:18:00.000Z

"OK. The tip comes out to $4.0125. Rounded off, that makes it $4.01. Now we divide that by three. . ."

Eight minutes later, Biker Teacher found himself at the motel diner's cashier. He handed the cashier his check card and waited while she rang up his tab. Out of the corner of his eye, Biker Teacher spotted a woman approaching him. Fast. He figured that at her elevated rate of speed, if she didn't stop soon, she would collide into him. A klaxon sounded in his head. All hands, brace for impact.

The woman didn't stop. She didn't even slow down.

Bang.

"Biker Teacher, long time no see," the woman said.

"Fearsome Sweetie! Hey, I was wondering who this woman was coming at me at ramming speed," Biker Teacher replied. He turned around for a second to sign his bill, then faced the encroaching female once again.

"I didn't know you were back on the island," Fearsome Sweetie said.

"Been back since 2000." It might have been 1999, but 2000 was an easier number to blurt out without thinking. Biker Teacher hugged Fearsome Sweetie.

"Really? Wow. So what have you been up to?" Fearsome Sweetie asked while keeping her body well within Biker Teacher's personal space.

"I've been teaching at Ass Crack Middle. Can you believe that?"

Fearsome Sweetie laughed. "I can't believe I haven't seen you around."

"I don't drink much, so I don't get out much," Biker Teacher said with a smile.

"I don't drink either. Hey, this is my friend Dar. Dar, this is my classmate, Biker Teacher." Biker Teacher shook Dar's hand while Fearsome Sweetie remain close. "So have you talked to Nicks?"

"Actually, yes. I had both of her kids as students."

"That must have been interesting," Fearsome Sweetie said with a smile. Biker Teacher remembered that during high school, he used to be afraid of Fearsome Sweetie. Now she never did anything to him to deserve that fear. In fact, she was a rather pleasant person. Biker Teacher just developed a sweetie-phobia because Fearsome Sweetie had a very rough exterior. However, her smile today was genuinely pretty.

And that's when Biker Teacher realized that Fearsome Sweetie was well inside his personal bubble, and it made him feel awkward since he was not used to having pretty women so close by. Well, at least not women of legal age anyway.

"You know, if you're going to stand so close to me, I may end up suggesting that we get a room. We are in a motel, after all," Biker Teacher attempted to be funny.

"Oh really?" Fearsome Sweetie laughed.

"Yup. I could just put the room on my credit card and earn airline miles."

"Biker, Biker, Biker. Tsk tsk. Have you forgotten me already?"

"Eh?"

"Biker, if you remembered me," Fearsome Sweetie started giggling, "you would know that I don't give a flying fuck."

Mountain Biking Kauai

2007-05-27T04:58:00.000Z

Hi boys and girls. I had planned on writing another installment of Biker Teacher last week. Biker Teacher ended up being designated a van driver for a state teacher conference. He also managed to get lost not only going to the conference, but also heading back to the airport. To make things more interesting, there was another teacher with the same name (Bikher Teacher), though different gender, from a school with a similar name. Biker Teacher's school is Ass Crack Middle. Bikher's is Ass Part Intermediate. Funny, no?

But I decided to not write. Instead, I've become engrossed in a new game. I'm playing Lord of the Rings Online. Yes, I'm a nerd.

To keep you occupied, I've made a video of our regular weekend mountain bike run. The first person footage is me. The third person stuff is Rat.

After we were done riding, and were eating lunch, Big Brother mentioned something to the group. He said, "you wouldn't think it from looking at him, but Nonwheezer used to night dive."

Yup. I used to speardive/freedive at night. Yes, it was dark. Yes, I killed fish. And yes, I've seen many sharks. A lot of people would be afraid to jump into the ocean at night. I guess that makes me a little less nerdy.

Hyper-Perverted-Paranoid-Stalker

2007-05-14T02:45:00.000Z

How was your weekend? I had a hillbilly ho-down of a weekend myself.

My friends, Riley and Lornette, and my classmate, Sherri, and I got together on Friday night for a pizza dinner. I guess eating one of the most fattiest foods around (and most delicious) is a good idea when three people are dieting. The pizzeria of choice? Brick Oven. mmmmmmm. I can feel my gravity increasing, but it tastes sooo good.

I was hoping to reconnect ties to those I knew in my younger years. I'm realizing that I lost contact with those I grew up with. The only one I've keep in close contact with lives a couple of blocks away from me, and tends to scratch his private parts in public places.

So I was hoping to have a fun night with Sherri. But isn't life funny? Earlier that day I had an incident with a student. I pretty much screwed up, and it put me in a downer mood the whole weekend. So instead of the happy-go-lucky Biker Teacher-type character, I think I turned out to be something more akin to an undertaker. Sherri, on the other hand, is still rather attractive and full of energy. Seems like she burns the candle at both ends, but she does this by choice. Mistress of her own destiny and all that.

(yeah, I'm going to catch hell for that pic)

Boy did I screw up though. I sometimes type my name in Yahoo and see what kind of webpages come up. Apparently I'm some kind of stage actor or play director or something. Just for kicks, I typed in Sherri's name to see what came up. (No, I was not looking for nude pictures... yet) A photographer website popped up. There were some black and white scenery pictures accredited to Sherri. Unfortunately, when I tried to ask her about this, I came off as a pervert stalker. Sigh. Pervert, I can live with. Stalker? Ack!

At that point, I decided the best course of action was to just shut up and drink a beer.

And another.

The next day I got to ride my Marin on the Kokee trails. It was the official test of my new frame. I must say that I am pleased with the purchase. The bike handles much better than the old X6. However, I'm still sketchy on the Cable section- a steep, slippery, downhill.

Our normal mtb rides consist of two 4 mile downhill runs. Although it's downhill, the Kokee trails are very difficult, and also includes a few tough, big climbs. It's not a trail for the weak. Screw up and you can go falling down a cliff. The trail also starts at 2500 feet elevation.

For the last few months, I've been the only one to ride the rough sections on both runs. The other guys use the paved road to bypass the difficult uphill sections. I, on the other hand, seem to be a glutton for punishment.

Or is it because they're avoiding me? Great. Perverted-Paranoid-Stalker. It keeps getting better.

Mundane Adventure

2007-05-06T06:15:00.000Z

Date: May 5, 2007
Soundtrack: Queen - Bicycle Race

Don't need to watch the video. Just listen to the music to set the mood.

I'd decided to get a new bike. My Haro X6 was an ok bike to begin with, but as I gained experience riding, I learned that it was not the bike I needed. You see, the X6's geometry matches other brands' XC bikes. XC bikes have aggressive head angles and short wheelbases to encourage quick turns. They usually have about 4" of suspension travel, and most people use them on smoother trails or dirt roads. However, Waimea Canyon trails are a lot more difficult than a dirt road. I always felt my bike was a bit unstable on the tough stuff.

Ouch. Actually, I only scraped my elbows. I was more embarrassed than hurt.

Riley, Kyle, and Will use freeride/downhill bikes. Their bikes have 7+" of suspension travel to soak up large hits. They also have long wheelbases and slack head angles for stability on the downhill slopes. I've ridden their bikes, and I could notice the stability right away.

But I still crash. But that's not the point.

Kyle's bike felt battleship-stable on the downhills, but turned a little too slow for me. I had to slow down a lot on the fast singletrack sections of the trail. I also crashed his bike by riding way over my head. I ended up unconscious while my so-called friends took pictures.

Riley's bike also felt great. But even with his $1200 downhill fork, I struggled to turn. I went wide on a few turns on the fast sections of the trail. Now my crash on Riley's bike was a freak accident. A branch got stuck in the spokes. I'll show you the mark on my ribs from the pungee sticks if you ask.

I decided I needed a true All-Mountain bike.

Alas, we teachers don't make much money. So instead of getting a complete bike that would cost $2000, I bought a frame for $500. Since I already had upgraded parts on the Haro, I could transfer those parts to the new frame and get good performance.

This is the Marin Rock Springs. It's a 6" travel frame designed to handle rougher trails than the X6. This picture was taken right when the frame arrived. Riley couldn't wait to touch things. If you ever take him for a ride in your car, he will touch every single control he can get his hands on. I'm not sure if it's ADHD or OCD.

Now because Riley makes $60-80k a year doing nothing but complaining, tuning bikes, and building ladder bridges, my bike was 90% complete in 2 hours. He likes to say that he's the hardest working guy around, but if that was true, my bike would still be in pieces.

And here it is. Almost totally complete. Only one part could not transfer from the X6 to the Marin.

The front derailleur. This is the part that moves the chain across the different front sprockets.

So off we went to Bicycle Johns.

It was Saturday. Riley is at the drag races, and I'm getting over a cold. So instead of riding, Kyle, Satoshi, and I went to the local bike shop to get the cables needed to finish my bike. (We didn't get the derailleur yet. Didn't figure it out until later.) Satoshi must have been hating life since my car is a no smoking zone. I quit smoking several years back. Yay me. I've taken up being an asshole instead. Trade one nasty habit for another, I say.

After picking up the parts we needed, Satoshi suggested we get some lunch.

I wanted to go inside to order, but Kyle insisted we go through the drive thru. Great idea. Let's make someone who is coughing and sounds like a frog order through a crap microphone.

Things went bad from the start. The car in front of me was a generic-too-big-to-be-useful-diesel-gigantosaurus-mobile-penis. I couldn't move far enough forward to get right to the mic. I had to project my feeble voice like the fat lady in the opera.

Me: What do you guys want?

Them: Don't know.

KFC: Hellow, welkum two kay ef see. Can eye take yor ordur plees?

Me: So what do you guys want?

Them: Don't know yet.

KFC: Can eye take yor ordur plees?

Me: Um.

Satoshi: Ask if they have that bowl stuff.

Me: Do you guys have that bowl stuff?

KFC: Dee kay ef see bole. Yes.

Me: OK, can I get one of those?

KFC: Wood yoo lik dee meel?

Me: OK.

KFC: Wat kine ov dreenk?

Satoshi: Diet Coke.

Me: Diet Coke.

KFC: No more die et koke. Die et pepschi?

Me: OK. Kyle, what do you want?

Kyle: Get me a 10 piece hot wings.

Me: There's no 10 piece. Only 6 or 18.

Kyle: Six.

Satoshi: Get me six too.

Me: Can we also get 2... 3... 18 pieces of hot wings?

KFC: No more dee hot weengs. Eets a ten meenut weight.

Kyle: Ah, just get the bowl.

Me: OK, make that three bowls altogether.

Satoshi: And two snackers.

Me: And two Snackers.

KFC: Tank yoo four yor ordur. Plees dribe fourward.

(I drive to the next window)

KFC: asdhjaksh tyhe dkiea dreenk?

Me: What?

KFC: asdhjaksh tyhe dkiea dreenk?

Kyle: Diet Pepsi.

Me: Diet Pepsi.

I hate drive thrus.

So we get to Kyle's workplace and eat. I get to see my bike for the first time. It looks really cool in person. Kyle routed the cables and removed the front derailleur so that the bike was usable. I rode that sucker around with an ear to ear grin. It feels more stable and plush than the X6. The front wheel feels slightly farther in front, which should add some confidence on the steep downhills. While the bike feel more stable, it still turns quick. The suspension even works like the magazine reviews said. It rolls over bumps without kicking you up. Of course this is just a test ride in an industrial zone. I can't wait to try it out on the trails. The amazing thing is that even though the suspension is plush enough for a smooth ride, there is no pedal bob. I'm hoping I will be able to tackle the steep hills without having to push the bike.

Bicycle Built for One

2007-04-27T07:30:00.000Z

It was Wednesday afternoon. Wednesday was the day of the week Biker Teacher rode his mountain bike with Rat and Big Brother. They rode a seven mile road loop that passed behind a hotel and an airport. This is how they exercised and socialized amongst themselves.

It started off like any other day. Biker Teacher stretched before the ride. Big Brother and Rat chose not to. Biker Teacher suspected that they were too homophobic to bend at the waist to touch their toes. Once properly stretched, the trio geared up for the ride. Rat always wore a full-face motorcross helmet. It made him look like the hooligan he was. Biker Teacher and Big Brother wore their cyclist helmets that made their heads appear like larger versions of their smaller heads. With their melons properly encased in impact absorbing form, they set off on the ride.

Bicycle riding is a very good form of cardiovascular exercise. The constant effort on your large muscle groups is good for fat-burning and a stronger heart. The addition of gossiping, bullshitting, and one-up-manship doubles the effectiveness of the exercise.

"You guys coming out to the drag races this month?" asked Rat.

"Is the blonde going to be there?" asked Biker Teacher.

"Probably not. I'm over her," was the reply.

"Um, you had one date," Big Brother pointed out.

"Yeah. But she had her chance."

And they all laughed.

Most of their conversations went like that. They loved to kid each other about their non-existent love lives. Either that, or they tried to convince each other that perhaps an alternative lifestyle would be more to their liking.

"You're gay."

"No. YOU gay."

"Nah. YOU gay," ad nauseam.

Every now and then they would get lucky and cross paths with a well toned female jogger. Pure serendipity. Which is why whenever they passed one, they would immediately hush and ride while looking straight ahead for fear of getting caught looking.

It just so happened that on this particular Wednesday, they spotted a very firm XX chromosome on the road. As they approached from the rear, they noticed her rear. It was one that you could literally bounce quarters off of. Lycra running shorts, normally unkind, was very flattering on this wonderfully shaped woman. The trio rode past in their normal silent running mode. Big Brother was lucky enough to glance back at just the right moment. He got to watch Jogger Lady tend to her desert-beast-of-burden-foot-appendage. The trio looked at each other. Upraised thumbs were shown with nods of approval. Then the ride continued.

Biker Teacher had been debating on buying a new mountain bike. His current bike, a Haro X6, was a good entry bike, but now that he had more experience, he needed something that matched his riding style. Biker Teacher preferred to ride with the wheels on the ground. The Haro X6 preferred to ride with Biker Teacher on the ground.

"Maybe I could just get a frame and throw all these parts on it," said Biker Teacher.

"Well, you already got a good fork and new Saint cranks," said Big Brother, "in fact, the cranks came in a really nice box too."

"What about Girl-Friend's box?" asked Rat.

They all laughed.

Rat continued, "you know what though? I'm over women."

"Until the next one calls you, right?" asked Biker Teacher.

"Right. Because I'll just keep going back for more," Rat replied. And they rode on.

There is an old, abandoned shopping mall along the bike route. It was originally filled with classy stores with exorbitant prices designed to entice foreigners to open their wallets. That was before an act of God wrecked the place. Now it's a little freeride playground for Rat. Biker Teacher and Big Brother stopped at the mall to take a break while Rat played. Jogger Lady caught up and ran past.

"I remember who she is. She's your classmate's older sister," Big Brother said to Biker Teacher.

"No shit?" Biker Teacher rode off to catch Jogger Lady. Once he caught up to her he called out.

"Hey. You remember me? I'm Chad's classmate."

"Oh hey. Yeah, I do remember you. How you doing?" Jogger Lady asked while still running.

Biker Teacher kept pace. "I'm fine. From the looks of things, you're real fine too."

Jogger Lady smiled. She seemed happy hearing the compliment.

"I haven't seen you before. You jog here regularly?" queried Biker Teacher.

"I used to jog around the stadium, but this route is more interesting."

"Sweet. You know, this is odd. I'm the type of guy who can approach and talk to ugly chicks, but I get tongue tied around beautiful women," he said.

"And?" she asked.

"And? Nothing really. Just stating a simple fact that I seem to be able to approach and talk to you," he replied.

"I see." The happiness had left her.

"I'm glad you're jogging. It's great. I thought I was looking at a 25 year old. It wasn't until I saw your face that I realized you were 39," said Biker Teacher.

"I'm 36, ass," mutter Jogger Lady.

"Yeah, that's right. You were always older than me."

Jogger Lady stopped. "You know what? I'm going to stop talking now and continue running. You don't have to follow me. Have a nice life." And she ran off without delay.

Biker Teacher stood there feeling dejected for a minute. Then he shrugged and rode back to the mall. Big Brother and Rat were waiting for him.

"So, did she touch your penis?" Rat had been quoting Harold and Kumar that week.

"Man, I am so over her," announced Biker Teacher.

"Until she calls," said Big Brother.

"Yeah, because I just keep going back for more," said Biker Teacher.

I'm Not On Strike

2007-04-25T04:42:00.000Z

I do have a story to write, however, I don't have the time to write it right now. I'm a union rep and we have a contract that needs to be ratified this week. That's killing my time and creativity.

I love teaching. It's a wonderful feeling when kids learn something new from you. However, the State of Hawaii tries its best to make teachers committed. To the funny farm.

If your name is Alison and you're reading this: Hi. I'm as clueless as Biker Teacher, but only half as rude.

English 101

2007-04-15T07:00:00.000Z

Today was the day Girl-Friend's research project was due. Just so you know, Girl-Friend wasn't Biker Teacher's girlfriend. Instead, she was friend who happened to be female. Now if that teenager description doesn't explain the situation, Girl-Friend and Biker Teacher had a platonic relationship. Which means, although Biker Teacher found Girl-Friend attractive, he stood no chance of getting any play because he looked like Thurlug the Orc.

Although Biker Teacher had long since graduated from college, and even completed an extra bout of accredited lobotomies, he was there at the school. He had a vested interest in Girl-Friend's research project. He had spent the week editing her paperwork. It was important for him to see if his expository writing skills were still butterknife sharp.

And he also saw a picture of Research Partner. Rawr!

Research Partner was a petite, lightly tanned, young Asian woman. She had a nice smile, and brown hair, which was a result of a stylish bleaching. But most importantly, she was single.

Biker Teacher skipped over to meet Girl-Friend in the college library. Normally men don't skip. However, since he possessed a college degree, and the other lesser male college students didn't, he felt it ok to be a little whimsical.

"How did it go?" he asked, with a slight pant.

"Not sure yet," was the reply. "But our professor is the type to lower your grade if the formatting is off."

Biker Teacher rubbed his scruffy, scarred chin. "Ah yes. I had professors like that before. They were called 'bitches.'"

Girl-Friend chuckled, then her attention was drawn elsewhere. "There's Research Partner. She's coming over."

An Asian goddess appeared before Biker Teacher. His mind fumbled with words. Do he prostate himself? Prostate? He wondered why he thought of the little rectal walnut instead of prostrate.

"What is he doing?" Research Partner inquired.

"Don't worry. He does that when he's lost in thought. Hey, Biker Teacher. Wake up."

Biker Teacher's mind still raced with a million things to say. He finally settled on being romantic, which, to those on the receiving end, could be fatal.

Biker Teacher assumed his best Rico Suave look and managed to utter a string of mangled thoughts. "So you must be Research Partner. Girl-Friend told me about you. But I can see now that she grossly over-stated your beauty."

"Excuse me?" Research Partner furrowed her brow.

"That means you're pretty. Maybe you should take some English classes. It might help you. And if you get stuck with the larger words, I can help out," Biker Teacher was eager to offer his services.

It was at this point that Girl-Friend tried to use her powers of invisibility for selfish reasons. She camouflaged herself as best she could next to the bulletin board covered with ads. She knew better than to associate herself with Biker Teacher once he gets on a roll.

Research Girl turned away from Biker Teacher and faced the translucent Girl-Friend. "I have our project board done and was about to..."

"I heard you were single and desperate. Want to get a coffee?" Biker Teacher interrupted.

Research Partner took a deep breath, grit her teeth, and rolled her eyes. Her lightly tanned complexion took on a reddish hue.

He continued unabated, "I heard you're a single parent. That must be tough. Mr. Esquire says I would make a good father."

"Oh really now," said Research Partner with obvious disbelief.

Girl-Friend was using her 14th level Hide in Shadows skill and was just a few yards from the exit now.

"Yes," Biker Teacher stated boldly, "in fact, Mr. Esquire said I should do my utmost to give your kid a baby brother or sister."

Girl-Friend slipped out the door unnoticed.

Research Partner clenched her fists tightly at her sides. She spoke through her teeth as she scowled. "Look, I don't know who you are..."

"Biker Teacher."

"Or where you came from..."

"The westside."

"Or what you're doing here..."

"Trying to get a date with you."

"But it will be a cold day in Hell when I go out on a date with you!" She stomped her foot, punched the bulletin board, and kicked open the door as she stormed out.

Biker Teacher skipped out of the library. He found Girl-Friend waiting just outside. She seemed confused by the look of victory on his face. He leaned over and whispered in her ear.

"I've got a date for winter solstice."

Sun Tzu's Art of Conversation

2007-04-08T01:29:00.000Z

The Biker Teacher walked into Margins, the large discount books and music store. He was an average guy, but always felt more of a square peg in a round world. He liked to think he and Harrison Bergeron had a lot in common, except for the scrap metal. And the ear radio. And the spectacles. And the red rubber ball. Actually, Biker Teacher realized he didn't have much in common with Harrison Bergeron except that they both seem stuck in some surreal world of someone else's creation. Biker Teacher stopped thinking about it when a loud buzzer sounded in his head.

Once inside, the Biker Teacher surveyed the area. He carefully studied each book monger he saw. He was there specifically to look for one particular monger. Panning his view from right to left, the Biker Teacher searched for his prey. Aha, he spotted her.

Pierced Girl had her shoulder-length raven hair in two ponytails. She wore a black dress which seemed to be systematically torn vertically along the hem. She had a pierce brow and a lip ring. Biker Teacher wondered if perhaps she got her fashion cues from the movie Beetlejuice.

Now Biker Teacher is known for his wit and charm. However, he suffers from chronic shyness. He was diagnosed with this affliction after he realized that he resembled Goofy more than Mickey. So although he could think of a million things to say at any given point in time, he could never bring himself to actually say anything. That is, until today.

Biker Teacher's friend, Mr. Esquire, had given him several tips on the art of conversation. Mr. Esquire is a successful attorney. As everyone knows, attorneys need to be able to blow a lot of hot air in order to survive. That's because once they pass the bar, they sell their souls to Satan, and the empty cavity that used to house their souls now house fire and brimstone. If the attorney was not able to expel the heat of hades, they would suffer a core melt down much like Chernobyl.

Biker Teacher chuckled to himself, then realized he looked like a fool laughing to himself, so he soldiered on. He approached the lovely Pierced Girl and attempted to start a dialog.

"Hi. I just recently learned how to read. I've managed to get through several of Dr. Seuss's books and now I'm looking for something meatier. A friend suggested something by Terry Hatchet. Or Lachet. Was it Matchet?"

"Pratchett," Pierced Girl corrected.

"Yes, Pratchett. That's the ticket." Biker Teacher really did know it was Pratchett. He just feigned stupidity for the sake of starting a conversation. "Can you show me where his books are?" Biker Teacher asked.

"Sure. Follow me," Pierced Girl said as she gestured Biker Teacher to follow by curling a single digit. He noticed that the single digit was not only clean and well manicured, but it had an appealing set of proportions. Then he wondered why he was so fascinated by a finger. "Here they are," Pierced Girl pointed to a selection of books on a shelf at shoulder height. She really did have a lovely finger.

"Thank you. Now this may sound a bit forward, but I figure sometimes you need to take a chance. If that there cash register prints out a coupon for the Starbucks, could I buy you a coffee?"

"And what if it doesn't print out a coupon?" Pierced Girl giggled.

"Um, juice ok?"

Pierced girl let out a laugh and a half snort. She caught herself just before she fully snorted. "It's about time for my break anyway. I'll meet you at the Starbucks in five minutes. Get me something strong."

The coupon read: Take 30% off your next purchase of Folk Music CDs. The Biker Teacher didn't care. He was way too elated. The fat-guy-with-curly-hair could have rung him up for an entire encyclopedia set and the Biker Teacher wouldn't have noticed. He waltzed over to the next door Starbucks. He literally waltzed. Well, not so much a waltz, but an attempt at something resembling a dance. Biker Teacher was absent the day they taught grace.

A few minutes went by and the Pierced Girl arrived and sat next to him. He handed her a Latte. He had a fruit smoothie for himself. He was concerned about staining his teeth.

Now the pressure was on for the Biker Teacher. He managed to get the Pierced Girl to have coffee with him, but now he has to make a good impression in a short amount of time. He remembered Mr. Esquire's suggestion about looking for her choices on a Staff Picks.

"I didn't see any books under your name on the Staff Picks list," said the Biker Teacher.

"Oh. I didn't list any books. I did list a few CDs I like," replied the Pierced Girl.

"Ah. I've been meaning to expand my music library. What did you pick? Maybe I could buy it."

"AFI"

The Biker Teacher heard of this band before. "Aren't they a punk rock band? Why do you listen to crap like that?"

And there was a moment of silence. Biker Teacher realized he said something inappropriate, but he wasn't sure what. He thought back to something else that Mr. Esquire suggested. Mr. Esquire noted that females like to talk about themselves. It would be a good idea to get the topic of conversation focused on the girl, and to let her talk. This was a good idea. If Pierced Girl was doing the talking, and Biker Teacher tried his best to look interested, there should be little chance for more Hoof-in-Mouth disease. The Biker Teacher tried again.

"Errr, ummm. I've been meaning to ask, what ethnicity are you? I mean, you're very pretty, and I'm curious as to where you got that rather large nose of yours."

Pierced Girl seemed taken aback. Her body stiffened as she shifted away from the table. She seemed agitated. Biker Teacher was starting to worry. How could the conversation be going all wrong? Didn't he get good advice from Mr. Esquire? Wait a tick. Mr. Esquire mentioned that since Pierced Girl has piercings, she may have tattoos, and that could lead to more conversation.

"I'm sorry. That came out wrong. Please forget what I said. I love your piercings, by the way. Normally I think they look disgusting, but on you, they look great. You wouldn't happen to have any tattoos? Perhaps a small one on your inner thigh? Or even a bitch patch on your back?"

The corners of Pierced Girl's mouth turned south as she scowled. Biker Teacher is good at reading people. He noticed that something was bothering the girl. Perhaps Pierced Girl had a really ugly tattoo, and it embarrasses her to talk about it. What ever the reason though, Biker Teacher was worried. The conversation was taking a turn for the worse. Luckily he remembered Mr. Esquire's last bit of advice. A brilliant conversationalist would be able to keep everyone in the conversation. If someone was being left out, a simple question would help to bring them back in.

The Biker Teacher looked at the old man sitting on the next table. "Hey you! What the hell you looking at?" The old man looked frightened and confused. Pierced Girl's lower jaw hit the floor.

Mr. Esquire's advice failed to work. "Stupid Mr. Esquire, and stupid advice," Biker Teacher thought to himself.

"I have to get back to work," Pierced Girl declared and she hurried to gather her things.

"Would it be ok if I asked you out for coffee again some time?" asked the Biker Teacher.

"Yeah. Sure. Whatever. I'm in the yellow-pages," Pierced Girl's voice dripped with sarcasm.

Luckily the Biker Teacher was also absent the day they taught sarcasm. He sprang to his feet, pumped his fist, and shouted, "Yes!" Then he pranced to the door filled with amore.

More Than the Ego

2007-04-02T03:49:00.000Z

I swear, I must be one of the clumsiest mountain bike riders ever. Besides the numerous scratches and bruises, I've also managed to knock myself unconscious and got myself a trip to the ER. And this weekend I got to add yet another injury to the list.

It all started on Friday. Riley called me and asked if I could bring a truck over to pick up my bike. He normally transports our bikes himself since they're stored at his workplace. This time though, his friend was supposed to come with us on Saturday, which meant he needed to transport an extra bike.

His friend didn't show on Saturday. He showed up at my house with both of his Gary Fisher Kingfisher 2 freeride/downhill bikes. He told me to leave my Haro X6 at home and to ride one of his bikes.

The Kingfisher 2 has a suggested retail of over $2000. The one he let me ride had a $1300 Fox 40R fork on it.

Now Riley is a bit... um... tight. And anal. While the words "tight" and "anal" would have me giggling like a school girl, I was a bit apprehensive. I am known for crashing on the trails, and the thought of crashing this expensive bike had me worried. If I put a scratch on the bike, I wouldn't hear the end of it.

Luckily, most of the day went well. Even this one particular section that causes me grief was easily handled with the freeride bike. Things felt good.

Then on our second run of the day it happened. I crashed. I was following the same path as normal and did nothing out of the ordinary. I did not lock up the brakes. In fact, I had both hands off the brake levers. The front wheel did not lock up in a rut, nor did it wash out. The wheels did not lose traction and slide out. It just felt like something grabbed the back wheel and pulled the bike out from under me.

So the bike stopped forward momentum, while my body continued on. I know the bike stopped because when I got up, it was right where I left it. I don't think it suffered any damage since Riley did not call me. He wouldn't miss a new ding.

My body didn't fare so well.

As I felt the body leaving the bike, I swore to myself, then looked at my landing zone. I was going to land on some left over stumps from some cut down shrubs. The stumps looked like pungee sticks. I thought, "this is going to rip me open." Fortunately it didn't.

I got up and dusted myself off. I stuck a gloved hand under my jersey to check for blood. There was none, so I turned to see what caused my fall. The only thing different on the trail from before was a couple of three foot long, freshly cut branches. They were laying next to the rear tire of the bike. My best guess is that I may have gotten those branches stuck in the wheels.

Later that night I realized the injury was a lot larger. I added in the parts that you couldn't see in the picture.

To add insult to injury, my brother and I headed into town to return our bikes. We stopped by Borders Books to pick up some magazines.

Remember that pretty girl with the piercings? She was there again.

Yup yup. Macho Nonwheezer could only manage to watch her work and couldn't work up the courage to talk to her. Rawr! I'm a kitten in a lion's world.

Musical Youth!

2007-03-27T09:04:00.000Z

A girl just badgered me into burning a CD for her. She said she wanted to hear something different, and if you heard me and Riley get into it about music, you'd know I listen to some non-lemur music. At first I tried to beg off. I was afraid to reveal my audio inclinations to this girl. But then she threatened my manhood with references to TNKOTB. I was forced into action. Yes, my manhood is tiny and fragile.

Anyway, since Photobucket is down and I can't work on the other blog I wanted, I guess I'll surf YouTube and post some songs that I enjoy.

Real Life: Send Me an Angel

Sugar Ray: Someday

Eddie Money: Take Me Home Tonight

Pet Shop Boys: West End Girls

Foreigner: I Want to Know What Love Is

Icehouse: Electric Blue

Meatloaf: I'd Do Anything For Love (But I won't Do That)

Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers: Mary Jane's Last Dance

The Cranberries: Dreams

Vanilla Ice: Ice Ice Baby (hehe)

Deee-Lite: Groove is in the Heart

Heart: These Dreams

BoA: Milky Way

Psy: Champion

Fatboy Slim: Right Here Right Now

Alan Kuo: Ling

Nickelback: Photograph

Orange Range: Shanghai Honey

Roxette: Joyride

Weezer: Buddy Holly

Lisa Loeb: Stay

LEN: Steal My Sunshine

Journey: Open Arms

Maxi Priest and Roberta Flack: Set the Night to Music

Timmy T: One More Try

Fine Young Cannibals: She Drives Me Crazy

Groove Coverage: Poison

Human League: Don't You Want Me Baby

Men Without Hats: Pop Goes the World

Baltimora: Tarzan Boy

Breathe: How Can I Fall

That should tide you over for a while.

Waimea Canyon Run

2007-03-26T08:07:00.000Z

My legs were really tired after filming this.

Art on the GSX-R750
Me on the SV650S
Shige on the R6

More Wood References

2007-03-22T07:47:00.000Z

My brother and I were out riding our mountain bikes this afternoon. We were just getting some exercise. Normally Riley would be with us, but he had to go see about a girl.

As we rode, we shot the shit. It's just a normal routine. We're usually laughing at something. So I smiled.

That's when my brother hit me with the bad news.

K: Your teeth are really yellow.

K: Looks almost like your teeth are made of wood.

Great. So now I'm self-conscious about my smile. Once we get back to my brother's work place, I check my teeth in my car's mirror. Ack! He was right! My teeth are horrible! I never noticed since my bathroom light isn't really white. I have an Austin Power's smile.

My teeth are more stained now than when I smoked. They're so stained that people must think I still smoke or chew tobacco. sniffle.

I think what happened is that I stained my teeth with too much soda. After I quit smoking, I picked up another addiction. Diet Pepsi. If I'm left unattended, I can drink a 12 pack a day easy. All that acid and caramel did a number on my pearly yellows.

So off to Walmart we went. I picked up some whitening strips. The box says I should see results in three days.

Guess I will see in three days.

Singularity

2007-03-21T04:40:00.000Z

Well, it's Spring Break, and I got two weeks off from school. This gives me lots of time to look at porn and learn things from the internet.

I got to learn something special about my body's health. I was perusing a mountain biking forum when I came upon a discussion about bike saddles. The original poster was looking for a more comfortable saddle for long distance rides. Someone replied with a link to a study on saddle designs.

It turns out that many bike saddles are poorly designed. The bulk of your bulk when seated rest squarely on your perineum. My seat is similar to this picture. Don't know what a perineum is?

This is it. It's that spot between the recreation area and the dump. Having the seat pressing against this area cuts off blood flow to the pecker. Over time, it could cause damage. Your wang can get out of whack, making it hard to whack. Women don't have wangs, but the pressure of the seat could cause discomfort. Or comfort. Whatever. A wangless friend once told me that she could get off driving with tight jeans. But I digress.

I went out and bought this saddle.

It has gel material which is nice. It also has a "comfort channel" that moves the pressure points off of the peepee anchor. I didn't get a chance to try it out yet, but I'm hoping it will work to stop the head numbing, errr... numbing.

And since this is a new month, I stopped by Borders Books to pick up some magazines.

Hehe. Not that kind. I picked up Superbike and Sport Rider. I also picked up Rocky Balboa and Casino Royale. Then I waited in the queue.

There were only two cashiers and a line was starting to form. So another salesperson opened her register for me. She had a pierced nose and two lip rings. She dressed in black and had dark features. I wouldn't describe her as goth though. Maybe more bohemian. I know she wasn't northern European nor Asian. But she was pretty.

She vaguely looked like Caterina Murino (she was in Casino Royale. Coinkidink!), so I guess she was a Mediterranean breed.

Bohemian Chick: Do you have a Rewards Card?

(I whip it out)

BC: It looks like you have a personal shopper day. Would you like to use it?

(At this point, she could have told me my hair was on fire and I wouldn't have heard a word. I just stood there with my mouth agape.)

BC: You don't know what that is, right? (long explanation that gave me time to look at her some more.)

Me: Are you always so polite and cheerful? I only ask because you are seriously making me feel really special here.

Now here's the rub. I can think that kind of stuff, but I can never say it. Now I would have loved to give her that line, but all I could manage was some incomprehensible murmur of acknowledgment.

I was Helen Keller. Wah-ter! Wah-ter! I couldn't speak in anything other than non-human grunts. I also misspelled my name when I signed the credit card slip. Luckily I played it off by pretending that my pen was dry. But it just goes to show you:

THAT IS WHY I AM STILL SINGLE!!!

Fuck. At least this time it wasn't a shemale.

Arthur and Shige: Together Again

2007-03-19T08:51:00.000Z

Ran into these guys on the mountain today. Slapped the camcorder on Shige's bike and let them loose.

Dendrophilia

2007-03-19T03:37:00.000Z

This morning I woke up a bit earlier than I planned.

Since I was up, I figured I would turn on the computer and convert some J-drama files from softsub to hardsub. If I didn't mention it earlier, I love watching TV shows from Japan.

Once my computer booted up, my Windows Messenger activated. I didn't even realize it was set on automatic. I was immediately nailed by an IM from a XX friend.

XX: Hi!

Me: Hi. Sorry. Just woke up.

XX: Morning wood?

Funny she should ask. She hit the nail on the head. I explained the whole story.

I was planning on sleeping in late since it's Sunday, and my noisy neighbors haven't been running the welders in the mornings lately. However, I had to wake up at 7 AM to pee. Since it was still early, I crawled back into bed to go back to sleep.

Then it happened.

Morning wood.

I figured I would just fall asleep and everything would be normal. I was wrong. I must have been thinking of something good because this sucker would just not go away. Now any post-puberty male can tell you that a boner, if left untreated, will cause aches and pains. So after 90 minutes, I gave up trying to sleep and got out of bed. I figured doing the file conversions would be non-sexual enough to ease the swelling.

No, it wasn't blueballs.

XX: Ninety minutes?!?

Me: Yeah. But I had worse.

Remember Virginia? The Eastern Unintelligentsia?

Well, there was an incident where she came into my room and woke me up at the crack of noon. Luckily Hilo can be a chilly place, and I was snug under the blankets.

She couldn't see that I was hiding yet another incident of MWS, Morning Wood Syndrome.

It wasn't the typical case of MWS. This one was bad. It was like someone took off the pressure regulator. Mini-me felt like it was going to explode. To top it off, I had to pee. Bad.

So there I was, wearing only boxers, hiding my manhood under a blanket, holding in my pee, with a cute girl sitting on my bed next to me. Sometimes I wish I was an extrovert.

A Different XX Friend Sometime Later: You should have just whipped it out and taken care of it. Tell her if she didn't like it, she could leave.

Like I said, "sometimes I wish I was an extrovert."

I couldn't do it. All I could do was chat and hide for what felt like an eternity. Virginia eventually left, but the wood remained.

I had to bend and contort into several different angles to get a flow going. It was the hardest time I had peeing. Pardon the pun.

Back in the Saddle

2007-03-18T09:02:00.000Z

Where have I been? Welp, for a month, I haven't been riding my mountain bike in Waimea Canyon. Today was my first day in a month. It felt sketchy at first since I've knocked myself unconscious and ripped a chunk out of my chin, but in the end, it was a good exercise day.

I already showed the main features of our downhill rides in previous videos, so no point in showing them again. However, today we came across a newly built section of trail.

Here's a link to Riley's blog. I was the camera man.

MTB

Hawaii History Day: District Event

2007-03-11T04:22:00.000Z

OK, so lately I've been stuck trying to find good topics to write about. It doesn't help that I've been busy with serious work during the week, as opposed to my usual goofing off. Although I have had a bunch of little mini-topics, such as Valtrex, come to mind, I couldn't find one nice, juicy topic to really sink my teeth into.

And that was a lot of commas.

Oh well. I guess since I don't have the big hits, I should write some little ones to keep you two entertained.

Today was our district's History Day contest. History Day is an annual contest that revolves around large, involved research projects. Students choose a topic that relates to a given theme and create a project based on what they learned.

There are essay categories.

Multimedia.

Performances.

And display exhibits.

So students pick something they want to learn more about. They sift through secondary and primary sources. They learn the techniques of historians, or they at least learn some skills that would come in handy in college.

That's what the brochure says.

The reality is a bit different. You get a bunch of whiny kids who have to be forced into this assignment. You pull your hair out because students can't seem to connect two and two together and can't pick a topic that actually relates to the theme.

"You mean marijuana can't be a triumph in history?"

You also get frustrated since students can't even use an encyclopedia. They lack the wherewithal to even find secondary sources. You get blue in the face explaining what a primary source is, but they still draw a blank since it wasn't on MTV (a crap station geared solely to sell crap to teens).

You give them a couple of months to collect primary sources since none are available on this island. You explain to them that they will need to request some sources by mail, and it could take weeks. In the end, your students wait until the last few days to do the project. This is even after you set up deadlines for each part of the project.

But, you can't fault the students for being late. In today's fucking hippie tree-hugging-equivalent world of education, due dates aren't important so long as the kids get the point. You gotta accept the late work with a smile even though we're supposed to be creating self directed learners according to the state's education policy.

In the end, I found four projects that were acceptable. With some extra work, they could end up being very competitive. I spoke with the students and explained the changes they would have to make. Of the four, only one made the changes. Two waited until the night before the event. The fourth didn't even want to make the changes so they decided they didn't want to participate anymore.

One of the projects still had the glaring error of stating that two atomic bombs were dropped on Hiroshima. Sigh.

But once again, crazy policies win. Our district is allowed to send three projects in our age group to the state event. Yay for celebrating and rewarding mediocrity.

Aha! But what did I see? One of the judges from a different category came over to speak with some of my students. It seems the judges were interested in the topic my students chose. So while we were waiting for their parents...

Kids: They really liked our project.

Me: Those judges see hundreds of projects each year. There are tons of projects about Pearl Harbor and Hiroshima. The USS Indianapolis is a bit unique.

Kids: Yeah! Woohoo!

Me: How did you guys pick that topic anyway?

Kids: You told us. But we didn't tell the judges that.

Me: What? I thought you guys found it yourselves.

Kids: No.

Me: You sure? I thought you guys found it on the internet.

Kids: That was after you told us about it.

Me: Oh... No wonder you guys had a good topic.

And that was my day. How was yours? Don't need to answer that. I really don't care.

Wedge: The Proper Noun

2007-03-08T06:03:00.000Z

Over the past couple of weeks, HBO has been showing the original Star Wars Trilogy (movies 4, 5, 6). I hadn't watched these movies in many, many years, so when I was able to, I turned on the tube. I watched A New Hope and Return, but missed Empire. I was impressed once again at how good those movies were. They really made the first three movies look like crap.

Then it hit me. I realized that there was one hero whose abilities in the cockpit was greater than anyone else, but he received no recognition at all.

It wasn't Anakin Skywalker, aka Darth Vader. Although Obi Wan claims Anakin was the greatest pilot he ever saw, Anakin wasn't all that. His first victory came by pure luck. With sheer crappy acting, he bungled his way onto a fighter and accidentally destroyed a battleship. He got his kills defending the first Death Star with the aid of two wingmen.

It wasn't Han Solo. He might be a cool leader, but in the cockpit, he scored little kills. His best kill during major combat came when he shot one of Darth Vader's wingmen. That's it.

Not Luke either. Yeah, he rocks in Beggar's Canyon, but he got shot down on Hoth. And if it wasn't for Han blindsiding Darth Vader, Luke would have been space dust. Luke is over rated because he dropped some acid and thought he heard his dead teacher's voice telling him how to blow up the Death Star.

It wasn't the generic Tie Fighter pilot either, even though he scored like a hundred Rebel kills.

It was Wedge Antilles. If you never heard of him, don't worry. He's not out for fortune or fame. He's just out to do his job. Although he is pure kick ass, he never bothered to have crazy ceremonies with vestal virgins giving him Olympic medals.

Wedge was instrumental in destroying the first Death Star. He covered Luke's butt, even eating bullets for him. In the end, Wedge kept Luke alive long enough for Luke to kill steal the Death Star.

Wedge also was the first to take down an AT-AT on Hoth. That kill required Wedge to do some fancy flying, while under fire, to tangle the AT-AT legs with a tow cable.

Guess who led the attack on the second Death Star. Yup. Wedge did. He out-piloted Lando through the tunnels heading into the power core. Lando almost flew his ship into a wall. Wedge also destroyed the power regulator which allowed Lando to get a shot at the power core.

And he also killed a shitload of Tie Fighters.

So when you find some geeks talking about Star Wars, you can approach them and say that the greatest character in the series was Wedge Antilles.

And these aren't the droids you're looking for.

Zero MPH Crash

2007-03-02T06:24:00.000Z

How can someone have an ER inducing crash at zero miles per hour? Easy. If they have the walrus-like dexterity of Nonwheezer, they can pull it off no problem.

Last Wednesday, I decided to continue using these pedals. They're called "clipless." It sounds like a misnomer, but if you knew the history behind this type of pedals, the name would make sense. The original forms had a "clip," that went over the foot. This ones remove the clip and replaces it with a special clamp. The clamp matches a bracket that is mounted to biking shoes. Once you are clamped in, your foot is stuck to the pedal.

The benefit of such a pedal set up is that you can use full power throughout the entire pedal-stroke. With regular platform pedals, you can only push down. With the clipless, you can also pull up. This adds to your pedalling efficiency.

The downside is that if you're not careful, you can fall with your feet locked into the pedals. That's what happened to me. I had a minor knee-scraping fall in the parking lot before our ride. Unfortunately, my handlebar hit the ground, and my chin hit the handlebar. When I picked myself up, my friend noticed I was injured. I felt nothing except the blood dripping off my chin.

So off to the ER we went. Another ride cut short by my mad skillz.

Nurse: Wow! How did you manage to do that?

Nonwheezer: Um... sheer stupidity?

Nurse: Yeah, that will get you all the time.

Both the nurse and the doctor were very pretty blonde women.

I was in the ER for about 2 and a half hours. There were other emergencies, so my injury had to wait. It was ok though. I think I fell asleep. I know I felt surprisingly refreshed by the time the doctor started to stitch me up.

It turns out that my injury was a bit more complicated than a deep laceration. The end of the handlebar actually gouged out a bit of flesh. The doctor tried her best, but all she could do was sew up the edges to help close the wound a bit. It couldn't be sewn completely.

Nonwheezer: ...

Doc: You were going to say something? (with needle and suture in hand)

Nonwheezer: Yeah. I now have an embroidered chin. hehe.

I finally got out and headed home. I hadn't stopped bleeding since the crash, so I was concerned that bath time would be torture. But for some reason, my wound doesn't hurt. If it weren't for the tension of the sutures and bandaids, I would forget I have this injury.

Shaving was scary though. Fate played a stupid trick on me. For about 2 weeks I let my goatee grow. Now I had to spend a fair amount of time trying to remove as much facial hair as I could so my bandages would stick. I was afraid I would damage the sutures or reopen the wound, but I eventually completed the task ok.

And this is with me cleaned up and with part of the gash stitched.

Of course, Riley had to keep ragging me about the crash. He told everyone he knew about the ER visit. On and on he went.

But the Japanese believe in bachi. What goes around, comes around. Early Thursday morning, the abrasive Riley was goofing off while riding a MTB. He took a pedal to the shin. And that specific pedal had really long gripping pegs. He ended up with some nice holes in his leg.

Phone Sex

2007-02-27T06:22:00.000Z

"Good evening. This is Jasmine with the Department of Health. May I speak with the second oldest male in the house?"

That's ME!!!!!!! (feigned excitement. feigned age.)

...

"Uh, yes, the reason I am calling is because your number has been randomly selected..."

Randomly? How can it be random if this is the fourth time you called us? I mean, you guys already called us three times before this. How can it be random?

"Um... That's because we're doing a survey and it's really important..."

Hey Jasmine, you're with the Department of Health. Is high blood pressure unhealthy?

"Um, I'm not sure."

You know, it must be. High blood pressure damages the capillaries; wears out the organs. Yeah. It must be bad for your health.

"I guess so."

So why are you trying to give me high blood pressure, Jasmine?

"I'm not trying to."

But you are, Jasmine. You guys called before, and each time we said we didn't want to participate. Yet you guys insist we must. You guys try to coerce us.

"We're not trying to coerce anyone. It's just important that we do this survey..."

Do you get a commission on each completed survey?

"Uh, no I don't."

I was just wondering since you seem so adamant about me taking this survey. I mean, telemarketers aren't this pushy.

"I'm not trying to be pushy. This is a very important survey..."

That important huh? You would think that on a survey that important, you wouldn't want uncooperative people participating. I mean, if the survey is that important, you wouldn't want to compromise your data with some false information. Hey Jasmine, how about I agree to take your survey then lie on all my answers. Would that be ok?

"Why would you do that?"

Because, Jasmine, as I was saying, I... don't... want... to... participate... in... this... survey.

...

"Have a good evening, sir."

You too Jasmine. You have an excellent evening yourself. Goodbye.