Slow Burn (Again)

It's been extremely warm, even in Kane'ohe. I decided to leave for town at 9am just so that I could sit in air-conditioned comfort on the bus. Even with the air conditioning, the heat was sweltering. I first had to purchase a new bus pass when I arrived in town. I was relieved when I finally found myself in the air-conditioned faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill.

Pseudo-professor Mike called. He wanted me to attend an Open House at the Honolulu Tower. There's a three-bedroom unit available for some extremely ridiculous amount. Bea likes in the same building. I viewed the unit with him as well as another on the 38th floor. Then, we ate lunch ate Bea's place. Pseudo-professor Mike attended the Hawai'i Democratic Party convention over the weekend. However, he has yet to announce his bid for office.

I met Rob, the former IT guy at the Asylum at 4pm near the Pali Longs®. We drove to Liliha to check out the apartment being offered by his distant relative. Apparently, his relative was not too worried about keeping the appointment. We stood out in the hot sun for 30 minutes before we gave up. Rob mentioned that the relative was not sure about the disposition of the apartments. It turned out that there are two small units. The cement wall between the two units may be removed to make it one apartment because there is only one parking spot available. From what I could tell, there is absolutely no possibility of finding street parking within a mile radius. Liliha, like many other older neighborhoods in Honolulu was not designed for future expansion. Two-lane roads are actually one lane because of the sheer number of cars parked on the street. This is also the case in the McCully, Moilili, Kapahulu, Kaimuki, University, Makiki, Punchbowl, Nu'uanu, and Kalihi areas.

Well, with 20 days left at Chez Loser, I still have no contingency plan. Looks like it's time to drop back a few more brewskis, eh? The tube, brewskis, and Nalu Board. What life I lead!

Inflation. The cost of goods and services is increasing in Hawai'i. A good indicator is the cost of common food items like rice. Six months ago, a 25-pound bag of rice was $4.99 on sale. Lately, the same bag of rice costs between $5.69 and $5.99 on sale. I've observed similar increases with many other products. Petrol prices have stayed the same after the "gas cap" was discontinued, which is about $3.30 per gallon of the cheapest grade.

Peak Oil. Overall, there seems to be speculation that petrol prices will never return to the levels they were at just a year ago. I would say that the latter assumption is a precursor to the Peak Oil scenario. Petroleum is the life blood of our technologically-dependent society. Thus, we can expect inflation to continue to rise along with interest rates. Will we see "double-digit" inflation again? I would not be surprised to see such a phenomenon occur much sooner than expected. Coupled with a totally ludicrous nation debt and trade deficit, there will be interesting times ahead. I am not even sure how to prepare for such an uncertain future.

Road to Perdition (Reprise)

After a somewhat relaxing morning at Chez Loser, I departed for town on the bus at 9:15am. As always, I ended up at the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. As you know, that is my only link with the outside world ever since I divested my Apple® iBook. Pseudo-professor Glenn stopped by to chat. He gave a copy of an investment article. We've been discussing various investment instruments. He also offered me a place to stay during my homeless period. And, he's checking with his realtor to see if there are any reasonable rentals available in town.

Lots of e-mail. Debbie, my realtor, sent the forms to make an offer on the unit in Lili'uokalani Gardens. We are looking at $5,000 below the asking price. Shirley wanted to know more about my widescreen LCD tube. She will be better off buying a new one since the prices have come down. She also wanted to know when we could meet for lunch again. Professor Cathrin provided me with a lead for a rental in Kaimuki.

I left for Kahala Mall at noon. I arrived just in time for my appointment with Brenda at Bank of Hawa'i. We discussed a variety of loan programs. If my offer for the unit in Lili'uokalani Gardens is accepted, then I may choose a variable rate mortgage instead. The term of the mortgage can only be 27 years because of the leasehold issue. I told Brenda that my intent was to sell the unit in two to six years. Brenda gave me a pre-approval (not pre-qualification) letter. She also mentioned that, for some reason, loans for units in the complex cannot be purchased by Fannie Mae. Thus, it may end up being a "portfolio loan," which will have a slightly higher interest rate.

Debbie called to see if she could get my signature on the offer. She met me at Starbucks® in the mall. She treated me to a Coffee Frappucino®. I should know by Thursday evening if the offer is accepted. Debbie said that there are only two possibilities for the Fannie Mae problem, the only viable reason being a low owner-occupant ratio.

I finally returned to town on the bus at 3:15pm. I could only do a short workout at the gym. I had to skip my cardio segment. Well, hey! I have to compose the "blog"! At the gym, I came to the realization that this is my 20th year of working out at a gym. Prior to that, I spent seven years in competitive swimming. This is Lori's 10th year. Amazing, isn't it?

Well, I am now down to 21 days left in Chez Loser. All indications show that closing will be right on schedule. I am very surprised that a few friends are helping me out in a variety of ways. I often speak of being a friendless loner. Yet, that is not entirely true. Obviously, my friends are much more compassionate than my bro and his family. Not surprising, eh? I'm going to be a little busy during the next three weeks, certainly not the kind of vacation I had anticipated. Sheesh!

Memorial Day 2006

I drove to Safeway® last night. Yep, I had to purchase a 12-pack of Samuel Adams® Boston Lager. Chubs and Dumbo, her stupid kid, were home. One of her friends came by to visit. They were both cackling away like old sea hags. Chubs was probably telling her friend about the wild night of debauchery with her BoyToy. In the meantime, Dumbo was running amuck. White shit was raining from the ceiling.

I woke up early this morning, even though I felt shitty because of the brewskis. I vacuumed Chez Loser. Then, I washed and waxed my truck. Waxing the truck took over two hours. To make matters worse, the ambient temperature was extremely hot, even in the shade. I dropped back a few bottles of brewskis to quench my thirst. Moms called to make sure that I was coming by for turkey dinner.

I drove to Hawai'i Kai at 1pm. I took the route through town to save time. People were driving like maniacs. I had to stop off at Koko Marina to go to the gym. Koko Marina was packed with fools. People were driving around the parking lot like morons. They were all discourteous because they were no parking spaces.

I dreaded going to my bro's place. I spent time talking with moms while the turkey was cooking. My bro was over at a neighbor's place. He was in and out. I spent my lone moments in the den (read: warehouse) looking over the real estate listings in the paper. Later, I ate dinner with moms. My bro finally returned. He and I chatted for a bit. He was dropping back a few brewskis. I refrained because I was feeling shitty. It turned out that I was severely dehydrated. So, I drank several cups of water. I finally left at 8:30pm, feeling relieved to get away from my bro's family. I was happy to see moms, though. Moms gave me a whole mess of leftovers to take with me. Well, that was my exciting Memorial Day.

Never on a Sunday

Watching the tube for hours every night is the modern day equivalent to the proverbial water torture. That's all I can do in Kane'ohe. Chubs provided me with entertainment last night. There was a flurry of noisy activity commencing with vacuuming the floor. Then, lots of slammin' going on in the kitchen. When it comes to food, Chubs is all over it. However, the real nature of the noise was the weekly visit by the BoyToy. Chubs had prepared a feast, I assume, for him and his tag-along homey. The sidekick, Homey da Clown, was talking at the top of his lungs all night. Then, at 2am, all was quiet. I could hear the bed squeaking upstairs in an oscillating rhythm. Apparently, Chubs and her BoyToy were doin' da wild thing while Homey da Clown was moving his hand up and down back in the living room. Less than five minutes later, the squeaking stopped abruptly. Then, either Chubs or her BoyToy ran immediately into the bathroom to take a shower. All was quiet until later when the loud sounds of snoring could be heard. The five-minute wonder must have been "plum tuckered out" after exhibiting his sexual prowess. I don't know about you, but the ol' lavahead's Vienna Sausage has more stamina than that, even in his advanced age. Of course, that's neither here or there since he has no opportunity to use his Vienna Sausage anyway.

I dropped back four more bottles of Samuel Adams® Summer Ale last night. I won't be purchasing any brewskis anytime soon. Unlike wine, brewskis have some kind of bloating agent. I also have to pay the ridiculous six-cent redemption deposit per bottle.

I did not feel too good this morning, most likely the result of not sleeping well for the last two weeks. The stress of becoming homeless is increasing by the day. I left for town at 11am to engage in the same benign activities. Student computer lab at the Diploma Mill. Gym. Chez Loser. Beans and rice for dinner. Tube.

Moms called to invite me to go along to a 50th anniversary party at the neighbor's place in Hawai'i kai. I declined. Never on a Sunday. If I feel like doing something, I can always go to Safeway® and buy more cheap booze.

Condo Issues. I've spent too much time internally debating the pros and cons of choosing to either rent or purchase a place to live. the whole concept is ludicrous anyway. Lately, the debate has focused upon the leasehold versus fee simple properties. When it comes to condominiums, the definition of "condo ownership" is nebulous. What does one own? If it's a high-rise condo or a townhouse, the so-called "ownership" is restricted to the internal living space of the unit. The edifice itself is not owned by the condo owners. So, why pay extra for fee simple condos? If the lease is long enough, it may very well outlive the life of the edifice. Fee simple property only provides a false sense of security that the condo is somehow owned outright. The whole game of condo ownership is to pass the property on to another owner within a few years and make some dough. There is no perpetuity, unlike owning the land itself. The one major difference involves tax deductions. Lease rent is a non-deductible expense.

The main issue of renting versus owning has bothered me for some time. I am more inclined to purchase the condo, even if it is leasehold, because I can benefit from the tax deductions. In addition, it gives me slightly more security from being evicted from rental property because said property is being sold. If the property can be sold down the line for the original basis plus both the selling and buying cost, then there will be no loss. The mortgage payments would be equivalent to what would have been paid out as rent. A few people have expressed concern that the bursting of the housing bubble will make this discussion moot. The bubble will cause the prices to drop significantly and a huge loss will be imminent.

On the Outs

I was privy to a stompfest when Chubs and Dumbo, her stupid kid, returned last night. The little "rolly polly" was running amuck. I decided to drive to Safeway® specifically to purchase a case of brewskis. I ended up buying a 12-pack of Samuel Adams® Summer Ale. Back at Chez Loser, I dropped back four bottles before calling it a night.

Did you survive the water torture? I'm not sure that I did. Me, of little faith. The prospect of becoming homeless has certainly created enough anxiety to last a lifetime. I have wondering what I should do with my hurdy-gurdy DVD library. I won't need the latter once the Vienna Sausage stops working. It really is too bad that no one took the dubious business venture seriously way back when. We could have been producing and starring in our own hurdy-gurdy DVDs. Sheesh!

I had to wake up early this morning in order to be in town before 9:30am. I left at 8am after my morning coffee and few Safeway bagels. I arrived at 8:45am. I decided to spend a little time in the student computer lab at the Diploma Mill. Debbie, my realtor, came by to pick me up at 10am. We drove to Waikiki to check out a few more places, two of which were at Lili'uokalani Gardens. The two studio units were really nice. The whole place is reminiscent of a luxury resort. The complex is one of the few to have lush green landscaping in Waikiki. There's also a large koi pond, a pool, clubhouse, and tennis courts. The location is two blocks from the beach. And, the bus stop is right around the corner. The only drawback is that all units in the complex are leasehold with no option to purchase the fee. The leases are fairly long, though. We also viewed a unit in the "rustic" Ohua Gardens. Debbie remembered the place when she was a kid. It was called the Kon Tiki back then. The unit itself was dark and dungy, although it was fairly large.

Debbie dropped me off in town after the showings. We had discussed the feasibility of purchasing one of the units at Lili'oukalani Gardens. She is going to do some research and send the results by e-mail later. I ended up in the student computer lab again. The rest of the day was uneventful.

I am not sure what I am trying to accomplish in life anymore. I have been too wrapped up in finding a place to live while the latter should have been a simple task. I have ten years before I can qualify for low-income senior housing. What am I going to do between now and then? I've been wasting too much time, usually spending countless hours in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. However, that is all that I seem to do these days. Would that change if I move to Waikiki? Would I go surfing more? Would I hang out at the beach? Would I engage in more activities? Or, am I better off in dreadful Liliha?

Water Torture

The dumps that I checked out yesterday were about the size of a coffin (read: less than 300 square feet in area). The units were dark, dungy, and morgue-like. The buildings themselves were like huge mausoleums. The sad part is that most of these so-called "condos" are absentee-owned. They are rented out at a premium to students (at least two per room) or to people who have come to live and work in Paradise. The idea is to squeeze as much money out of them as possible. Essentially, we are talking about a slumlord situation. No one in their right mind would purchase a place like that to actually live in it. Right?

I drank the rest of the Sea Ridge® Chardonnay after dinner to calm my nerves. This is quite a predicament that I have gotten myself into. Given my fragile mental state, I should have been more prudent. As a result, I had trouble sleeping last night. The night was also extremely warm with no trade winds, which further exacerbated the situation.

I woke up quite fatigued. I rode my Nalu Board to pass the time. I pondered my predicament. Really, what it all boils down to is an unfulfilled life, at least in the materialistic context. Living in any of the mausoleums (read: coffin-sized condos) is not an issue. My routine would be the same. In the evenings, I would still spend my time in front of the tube for lack of anything else better to do. My refusal to secure more wage slave contracts will leave me with an enormous amount of free time during the day. Obviously, I've been spending that time frivolously in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. What tugs at my senses is actually quite disturbing. I feel unproductive. I am not "contributing" anything to society. However, upon closer scrutiny, I could not determine what I would be contributing to society if I worked infinitely more hours in wage slavery. Do you? I'd have more dough. I'd pay more taxes. I may actually have more toys. I could afford to purchase something other than a coffin-sized dump.

My "quality of life" is substandard in the materialistic context. I have no health insurance. My earned income is now less than $20,000 per year. I have few useless possessions left after the first wave of divestitures. However, my investment income is currently about $1,300 per month before taxes. If I didn't constantly reference myself to the so-called "mainstream" definitions, I may actually find that my "quality of life" is more than adequate.

By mid-afternoon, my mind started playing tricks on me. I had visions of purchasing a place in Makaha. Yes, that's home to the world famous surfing beach. There are several condos out there priced below $180,000 fee simple including Makaha Beach Cabanas, Makaha Valley Plantation, and the Makaha Surfside. The units are right along the beach! The reality, of course, is that Makaha is way on the West side of the island. Commuting to town could be in excess of two hours. And, many of the units are vacation rentals. Nonetheless, this may be an option for the ol' lavahead.

While I was at the gym, I realized that I cannot live in Makaha. There is no gym there. The closest location is in Pearlridge. Sheesh! There is no way that I can get by without the gym.

Well, only 25 days before I become homeless. Rather than take necessary measures, I'll be spending another endless evening in front of the tube and riding my Nalu Board. Shades of the proverbial water torture! As always, I'll be waiting for an eleventh-hour miracle to occur. This is a matter of faith. If one's heart is guided by good intentions, then one's fate is often given to the proper direction. Faith is a belief system girded by integrity. Greed and selfishness will undermine faith. So, with that, the adventure continues.

Down & Out in Honolulu

I had gone to Safeway® last night to purchase a gallon of milk and a loaf of bread. Naturally, I ended up purchasing a bottle of Sea Ridge® Chardonnay. I drank half the bottle.

Needless to say, I felt "shitty" this morning. My liver is probably ready to give out at any time. I left for town at 9am after I drank my morning coffee. Debbie, my realtor, came by to pick me up at the Diploma Mill. We drove to Makiki to see a couple of places. One unit was Ward-Kinau and the other was at Terraza. The Ward-Kinau unit was very small and dark. The noise from the traffic on Kinau Street was unbearable. The unit at Terraza near Punchbowl was nice. It was on the ground floor next to the pool. It was fairly large for a studio, but was quite dark inside. Both of the units have no assigned parking spaces. I would have to find parking on the street, which is next to impossible. We then drove to Waikiki. We looked at a "condotel" unit in the Waikiki Grand Hotel. It was small and had a very exciting view of some shabby buildings across the way. Right below the unit, I could see the air conditioning system for the hotel. The room was small with the usual crappy hotel furniture.

After seeing those dumps, Debbie treated me to lunch at Teddy's Bigger Burgers. Nothing can brighten the day like a delicious hamburger. After lunch, we drove to 441 Lewers to look at two more units. These places were even more dismal. They were both so small that I probably would not have enough room to ride my Nalu Board. Mind you, all of those pieces of shit were about $180,000 fee simple. We also stopped by to check out a possible rental offering by one of Debbie's clients. It's a two-bedroom house in Kapahulu. There are two houses on the lot. The owner lives in one of them. He is renovating both houses. I was impressed because the place looked almost like new. The rent is going to be about $1,500 per month.

I was really down and out by the time Debbie dropped me off back in town. Rob, the former It guy at the Asylum, sent e-mail to confirm our viewing of the Liliha apartment next week. Brenda from Bank of Hawai'i sent e-mail to confirm a meeting next week about a loan pre-approval. The rest of the day was the usual routine. Gym. Return to Chez Loser. Beans and rice for dinner. Nalu Board. Tube. Sea Ridge Chardonnay.

Everything is Illuminated

I had a horrific nightmare last night. I had just purchased a large house along with some babe whom I assume was my squeeze. The place was a dump. Baby and I inspected every nook and cranny and discovered that it was crumbling due to termites and some kind of erosion. I was fit to be tied. I was extremely fatigued when I woke up.

Moms called early this morning to see if I could stop by today. Not a problem. Brenda from Bank of Hawai'i called. I will be making an appointment to see her about getting a pre-approval for a new mortgage. I spent most of the morning riding my Nalu Board. When I am homeless, I won't be able to ride it. What will I do? I also checked to see if my Nova® Spirit Taser-like device was still operational. I may have to deploy the device when I am homeless.

I left for Hawai'i Kai at 10am so that I could go to the gym in Koko Marina early. I met up with moms at noon. Moms made a nice lunch. Then, we sat around and chatted until 1:30pm. I departed for Kane'ohe right afterward. Upon arriving at Chez Loser, I dropped my stuff off and walked to the bus stop to catch the bus to town. I spent the rest of the afternoon in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill.

Rob, the former IT guy at the Asylum, called. He wanted to confirm that we will be checking out the apartment in Liliha next week. His place in in escrow, so it will probably close at the end of June. Debbie, my realtor, called to schedule a few hours tomorrow to view about six places. So, the fun is just about ready to begin, eh?

Head Above Water

I went shopping last night at Longs® to purchase a few items. Incidentally, Chez Loser has been peaceful for two days since Chubs has been gone. Nonetheless. I have been overcome by both stress and apathy, both of which are increasing in intensity by the day. I am stressed by the fact that I will be homeless in less than a month. Yet, I am totally unfazed by my apathy to do anything about the latter. Life has become quite meaningless to me. I look at what's left of my useless possessions and wonder why I am even concerned about them. Then, I ponder my fate in yet another incarnation of Chez Loser. What a tormented life I lead!

My Nalu Board has achieved maximum utility for me. I use it now for stress relief. So, every few minutes, I find myself riding it. Even this morning, I was riding my Nalu Board on and off from 7am until 10am. I departed for town shortly afterward.

I spent some time looking for other public storage facilities. There are two near Sand Island. One of them, Hy-Pac, has reasonable rates and also free pick-up. Exactly what I was looking for.

I ran into Robert as I was leaving the gym. He injured his arm recently when he fell after tripping over an uneven part of the sidewalk. In fact, we were standing right where the incident happened. He's collecting Workman's Compensation. His band has been playing regularly at different local clubs. He joined the Musicians Union, too. Aside from the obvious benefit, he is also able to buy into the union's group health plan. As for the babe situation, he claims to have resigned to the fact that "it's over."

I sent a list of possible places by e-mail to Debbie, my realtor, in order to schedule the showings. I am starting to like the idea of living in Waikiki. In any case, I have no pre-approval for a mortgage. So, I have no idea what will happen. I could end up at the new Kaka'ako Homeless Center (read: old warehouse). Sheesh!

And, the rest of the day? You guessed it!

Consortium of Fools

I departed for town at 9am. There were several crackheads on the bus, which is why I try to avoid the 55 route. They were all exhibiting extreme psychomotor agitation. One of them was wiggling around in the seat adjacent to mine. He could not control his leg from doing some kind of knee jerk kick. I could feel his pants brush against my leg several times. I wanted to "clean his clock." I refrained from the latter because I am a peace-loving monk.

I transferred to another bus in town. I arrived at Kahala Mall just in time to meet moms. We ate lunch at Panda Express® as usual. Moms had purchased a lot of stuff. So, I decided to ride the bus back to Hawai'i Kai with moms. I chatted with moms for a few minutes. Moms dished out a big bowl of ice cream for me. Yum! Then, I returned to town to resume the same ol' ... you know.

Rob, the former IT guy at the Asylum, sent e-mail. He has arranged for us to check out a rental next week. I was surprised. I also have a whole mess of real estate listing to check out. All of them are studios in my price range. Obviously, $180,000 does not buy much in Hawai'i. Expect a roach-infested dump for that price. Moms also showed me an article in the Advertiser about the alleged turnaround in the rental market. However, do not be deceived. Here's an excerpt:

"If something sounds like it's a good deal, it's because it doesn't look good at all or it's not in a safe neighborhood," Medina said. "It's really sad because Hawai'i's such a great place to live, but it's just so hard to survive here."

People always tell me, "There are a lot of cheap rentals on craigslist, blah, blah, blah." Well, yeah, they are cheap and in high crime areas. There are a lot of bad neighborhoods in Hawai'i, by the way. I'll provide a list later. The apartment that Rob wants to check out is in Liliha. Can you say, "da crib"? Dey be talkin' li' dat in Liliha.

Endless Illusion

My descent into stupidity yesterday was abated by reality. There is no reason for me to regret the sale of Chez Loser, with the exception of the major inconvenience of becoming homeless for an indefinite period of time.

The Chez Loser complex is designed for young couples and small families. I don't fit in that demographic. In addition, I have had a series of inconsiderate neighbors. However, Chubs and Dumbo, her stupid fat kid, are not renters. They will be there permanently. Kane'ohe is also quite far from town, although it is a self-sufficient community. Kane'ohe also has an enormous amount of rain. My unit is too big for me. Shirley's sister thought that it was too small. Well, it will be very cramped for three adults. I am barely making the mortgage and my other expenses from what I earn and the yield from my investments. That's why I have no hot water. Selling Chez Loser will increase my cash reserves significantly, thus giving me more financial breathing room.

I am not certain why I cannot seem to part with several of my useless possessions without at least trying to sell them. When I purchased the useless items, I assured myself that I could easily discard them without concern. Now, even the most trivial item causes me anxiety. Take for example, my Sharp® microwave oven. I bought it for $60 at K-Mart®. Chump change, right? Rather than just donate it, I will try to sell it for $30 or so. Why bother? Selling to bargain hunters is often a nightmare.

I ended up purchasing a $4.99 bottle of Sea Ridge® Chardonnay at Safeway® last night. It's actually quite good. I drank half the bottle. Then, I watched the tube while riding my Nalu Board. For dinner, I ate Safeway pork and beans with rice. I also started sorting out more of my useless crap for divestiture.

I woke up fairly early this morning. I read the paper and drank my coffee. Then, I spent more time deliberating the fate of more of my useless possessions. Even small pieces of junk like a container for water causes me severe anxiety. Should I keep it? Do I want to spend a $1.95 later to replace it? In the meantime, these items take up valuable space, something that will be a real luxury for me when I am homeless. I had to polish off the rest of the bottle of wine because my nerves were shot. When the effects of the wine kicked in, I saw the folly of my ways. I must divest everything possible. I am in survival mode. I left for town at 11am again. The rest of the day? You know the drill.

Desperation

I have not slept well all week because of the dismal prospect of actually ending up homeless on the street. I finally called the Shower Tree Hotel near the airport. This is the only cheap hotel on the island ($230 weekly rate). However, the only rooms available were at the daily $43 rate. This is the hotel that Robert stayed at when the big "incident" at home happened about a year ago. My only other option will be the YMCA. Sheesh!

My truck is another big problem. I will have nowhere to park it once I move out of Chez Loser. I have yet to inquire about monthly parking rates in town. Many of the parking structures have waiting lists.

The whole situation is turning into a major fiasco. I'll be homeless, most likely paying top dollar for a place to stay. If I need to store stuff, I'll be paying top dollar for a tiny unit. I will have to spend top dollar to eat because I won't have a kitchen. Then, I will have to pay top dollar to park the truck. Unless I find a place quickly, my expenses will exceed my current mortgage for the equivalent time period. I am starting to regret my decision to sell Chez Loser. However, it is too late now to change my mind.

Some people may say that I was blinded because of my foolish desire to become more like Anonder. Let me clarify that I am pursuing my own foolish desire to find freedom. Because of my lack of foresight and my own "mainland" thinking, I continue to fumble like a true rookie. My mistakes will be quite costly. It is my frugality that saves me from financial demise.

As desperation starts to wield its ugly head, I began contemplating the idea of purchasing a "condotel" unit. These units are essentially hotel rooms that are privately owned. The owner only can keep the room in the hotel rental pool, or can take it out of the pool. The concept is best for absentee investment ownership. However, owner occupancy is a possibility. The good part is that the maintenance fee pays all utilities (electricity, water, sewage, hot water, air conditioning, cable). And, the units are furnished. Anytime the owner is away, the room can be put back into the hotel rental pool. Most of these units do not have any parking stalls assigned to them, so the latter will be an additional cost. If I were to purchase one of these units, it would be in Waikiki. Surfing would be within walking distance. Buses run every couple of minutes. Really, this is not a bad option. I made a mental note to discuss this with Debbie, my realtor.

Incidentally, I forgot that I would need a loan to purchase another place. Thus, I will have to contact Brenda at Bank of Hawai'i to see about obtaining another loan pre-approval. If I decide to purchase another place, it will be no more than $180,000 fee simple. I will make the full 20 percent down payment this time since I will have adequate cash reserves to do so. I have not heard from Rob, the former IT guy at the Asylum. I am certain that he has reservations about sharing a rental with the ol' lavahead. I am not sure what Rob is going to do. Even if the house sells, he has to split the proceeds three ways with his siblings. Rob is unemployed. He keeps waiting for the day when Internet Jon finds a big money investor for the project they've been working on. Frankly, I don't think anything is going to happen. Internet Jon is living with his parents. Apparently, his parents are quite wealthy and provide Internet Jon with money to keep him occupied. Rob is also depending on Internet Jon for a rental unit (owned, of course, by the parents). Can you see where this is heading?

This morning, I spent a little bit of time sorting through my clothes and other useless crap. I am putting stuff together to donate to Goodwill or the Salvation Army. What gets to me is that I have brand new clothes that have been sitting around for years. I also have about 15 nice Aloha shirts, but I only wear three of them. Why don't I get rid of the rest? Moms gave me a whole mess of new towels, too. Yet, I've been using the same dilapidated one for over three years. I have no luggage to transport my crap, so I will have to go to Ross® to purchase a couple of gym bags to stuff my crap in. By the way, gym bags are ideal when one is homeless. In between the frustrating task of sorting out crap, I rode my Nalu Board.

I left for town at 11am. Student computer lab at the Diploma Mill. Gym. Return to Chez Loser. Tube. Nalu Board. Can I keep myself from buying another bottle of Holy Water?

Run with the Big Dogs

I was significantly stressed out last night about the prospect of becoming homeless. Then, Chubs and Dumbo, her stupid kid, returned home for an extended stompfest. I drove to Safeway® to buy a bottle of fake "Hammer." I spent the rest of the evening alternating my attention between the tube, the bottle of fake "Hammer," and my Nalu Board.

I was not feeling too well when I came to this morning. I left for town at 10am. I mailed a document to the escrow firm. Shirley arrived within a minute after I set foot in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. We ended up at Old Spaghetti Factory at the Ward Center. We spent the time catching up on what's been happening. Shirley's sister is looking for a townhouse to purchase. Shirley and Seth are going to be moving in and paying rent. Essentially, Shirley and Seth are already living together in Seth's room at his parent's house. They just purchased a queen-sized bed. What does that tell ya? Seth is now working at the Waimanalo Feed Store. Shirley is still at Daiei. She took a week off from work because the stress at Daiei was getting to her. Apparently, the Kailua store is severely understaffed. They have some vague plans to get married in the future. However, I believe that they need to take life a little more seriously.

Shirley also asked about my surfboard and my surfing history. I gave her a few vague pieces of information about the board. Custom made by shaper Steve Wilson. Fun-board size. I've mainly been out flailing around on the South Shore. She wants to go surfing with me sometime. I told her that the only surfing I'll be doing anytime soon is sidewalk surfing on my motorized chair. Sheesh!

I briefly discussed my situation. Shirley may purchase a few of my worldly possessions, which will be quite timely. After lunch, we drove back to town. She accompanied me to the Executive Center to look at another available unit. To sum it up, that was the nicest unit I've seen in the Executive Center. However, it is way beyond what I want to pay. The unit is also leasehold. The total for lease rent, maintenance fee, and property tax is about $600 per month.

I'm sure you know what the rest of the day will be like. I'm just looking forward to riding my Nalu Board.

Spam® and Rice

I read an interesting op-ed piece last night in the Star-Bulletin, which was parallel to my own observations about local public storage facilities. In refining my search, I've discovered that 5' by 5' units are not currently available in town. The smallest unit is 5' by 10' which runs $238 per month at Public Storage along Waialae Ave. There are only a couple of other storage firms in Honolulu proper. It will make no sense for me to store my crap at a location way out of town. I'd be better off hauling everything to the landfill. Incidentally, there are at least five huge public storage construction projects underway right now. I am simply amazed that there is so much demand for places to store useless crap.

A few days ago, I turned down a second contract for Summer at the Diploma Mill because of my precarious living situation. I still am scheduled for one class, but I am becoming even more uncertain whether I can fulfill that obligation while I am homeless.

This morning, I left for town at 9am. I should have stayed at home to begin the divestiture of my useless possessions. I was able to suppress my phone phobia long enough to call Shirley. We will meet in town for lunch tomorrow. Later, I chatted with Pseudo-professor Mike. He now has incredible number of high-profile politicians running for the same seat that he is. He also mentioned that I could house-sit Bea's place when they leave on a cruise in June. That might help me buy some time while I search for a new place. However, it does not solve the issue of storing my "necessities." The rest of the day was mundane. Gym. Faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. Return to Chez Loser. Beans and rice for dinner. Nalu Board. Tube. Oh, I should mention that I decided to have Spam® and rice for dinner last night. Yum!

Livin' Large in a Small Way

After I washed my truck and loaded it with stuff, I drove to Kahala Mall to meet moms. Moms had already been shopping at Down to Earth near the UH. When I arrived, moms had several bags of stuff. We had to make a quick stop at Longs®, then we returned to Hawai'i Kai. I brought a few things to give to moms since I won't need them while I'm homeless. Later, we ate lunch at Zippy's® in Koko Marina. I really wouldn't recommend this place to anyone. The food is greasy and crappy. Loco Moco Drive-Inn is better. Moms also wanted to pick up some items at Foodland®. Moms also bought me a small package of sushi from Kozo Sushi. I chatted with moms for a bit when we returned to the house. Then, I drove back to Kane'ohe. I was able to take the bus to town. Gym. Faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. Back to Chez Loser. Beans and rice. Nalu Board. Tube. You know the drill.

Shirley finally sent e-mail. She wants to meet for lunch either on Friday or Saturday. However, she claims to not be checking e-mail much anymore. Gone are the days when she was habitually on MySpace. The romance with Seth must be at a fever pitch. In any case, she wants me to call her on the phone. Doesn't she remember that I suffer from phone phobia?

By the way, I am actually more prepared for this current dilemma (i.e., imminent homelessness) than I would have been a few years ago. I have learned to not be reliant on other people. Few, if any, are willing and able to help. I often find that people run the other way if they sense vulnerability. Well, I've decided to do nothing about my situation until June 1st. Then, I'll obtain a Post Office box and initiate my address change. I will also begin the final divestiture of my worldly possession based upon utility.

Home of the Homeless Homeys

"You will continue to take chances and be glad you did." -- My Panda Express® fortune cookie

Pseudo-professor Ralph gave me a ride back to Kane'ohe last night. Well, I can't refer to him as a "pseudo-professor" anymore. He's now a Dean at HCC. He seems to be enjoying his new position as an administrator. He mentioned that Pseudo-professor Mike had asked him to sign his nomination papers for the US House of Representatives.

Chubs and Dumbo, her stupid kid, returned home at 7pm. Same ol' shit. Stomping. Slammin soirée. Dumbo running back and forth. White shit raining from my ceiling. I spent a little bit of time riding my Nalu Board. Frankly, I wasn't in the mood. The thought of becoming homeless really hit home. Get it? Hit home. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaaa! I ended up at Safeway® to buy a few necessities like a loaf of wheat bread. However, I gave in and bought another bottle of Fetzer® Chardonnay. I polished off the bottle and ended up passing out on the floor. I must have knocked over my last glass of wine while I was in a coma. Fortunately, it did not stain my new carpet.

I woke up fairly early to the noise created by Chubs and Dumbo. I made a pot of coffee. Naturally, I had to ride my Nalu Board for a while. I also practiced a few pop-up exercises. And, I practiced balancing on foot on the carpet. I observed that the muscles in my feet and calves were working hard to compensate. I am going to add this to my repertoire because it will help when I ride at the extreme ends of the Nalu Board.

I left for town at 10am. I had to send off a package of a few of my older titles from my extensive hurdy-gurdy DVD library, which will be credited to my account at DVD Empire to be used later when I acquire more exciting new titles for the pleasure of my Vienna Sausage.

The rest of the day was uneventful. Gym. More computer fun in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. Caroll also called and left a message. She wanted to know what I was up to. I'll spend another benign evening on my Nalu Board in front of the tube. I'll be exercising my infinite willpower to prevent another Holy Water binge.

Things are moving much quicker than I expected. I will handing over the keys to Chez Loser on June 20th. I had thought that the rest would be simple. I'd get a storage unit for my stuff. I'd buy a one-month parking pass in one of the parking structures in town for my truck. I'd rent a Post Office box for my mail. Then, I'd carry the bare essentials with me and stay at a cheap hotel (or "camp" at the beach with the homeless) until I either found a new place to purchase or rent. Alas, life in Hawai'i is not that simple.

I checked the rates for public storage via the Net. Whoa! $180 per month for a 5' by 5' unit, essentially the size of a phone booth. Whoa! Up to $200 per month for a parking spot. And, to top it off, there are no cheap hotels. In fact, in a recent article in the paper, hotel rates were reported to be going up significantly commencing this Summer. Things are not looking good for the ol' lavahead. What is he going to do with his useless possessions? Where is he going to live?

Alas, when pushed into a corner, the ol' lavahead refuses to act. Instead, he waits for the eleventh-hour solution to miraculously appear. Rather than implement some kind of strategic plan during the interim, he simply brushes off the situation and rides his Nalu Board. Sheesh!

Monk's Life-style Tips. Today, after a decent workout at the gym, Monk took a nice warm shower. His enjoyment was short-lived when he started gagging. Monk then realized that some clown was taking a dump in one of the stalls. The pungent odor permeated the whole locker room. To avoid such an embarrassing situation, clown should pull the plunger right as the turds hit the water. Clown should also change his diet. Eating hormone-saturated meats and poultry, as well as foods full of lard and toxic substances, will produce odoriferous dung. Monk's turds have a fresh, clean scent.

The Good Life

All I really want is a taste of the good life. My definition of the "good life" is fairly simple. I just need a decent place to live (read: sleep), preferably by the beach. I want to be able to walk to the beach, preferably with my surfboard. I would like to eat better quality (read: non-toxic) food. I don't want to drive anymore either. I would like to sell the truck. That's it. Can you believe it?

Did you remember moms on Mother's Day? I hope so. Chances are moms changed your diapers, fed you, bathed you, and played with you. Moms probably comforted you when you cried and read stories to you at bedtime. Then, moms watched you grow up to become someone she is proud of.

Even though I am on unpaid vacation, I left for town early this morning on the express bus. Mortgage payment. Faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. I met moms at Kahala Mall. We ate lunch at Panda Express® as usual. Word has it that the Apple® Store will be opening there soon. After lunch, I returned to town to go to the gym. After my shower, I noticed that my balance has really improved when I was putting my pants on. I instinctively propped myself against the wall to prevent from falling over. Pausing for a second, I moved away from the wall. Stable as a rock!

Rob, the former IT guy at the Asylum, sent e-mail. He's still not certain about the status of his place. His realtor is off-island until the end of the week. He left open the possibility of looking into a shared rental. As for the ol' lavahead, he'll be spending the evening with his Nalu Board and the tube. Sheesh!

Late Breaking News. This just in! I submitted the condo documents to Debbie, my realtor, this afternoon. She said that the closing date is June 20th. So, I will be homeless within one month.

Just Another Sunday

My homey, Rod, called and left a message this morning. He won a trip to Mau'i. He's planning the trip for November. I will most likely not be able to see him, unless he makes a stopover in Honolulu. I ended up in town, as usual. Student computer lab at the Diploma Mill. Gym. I'll be spending the evening in front of the tube on my Nalu Board. Incidentally, I chatted with Pseudo-professor Dorothy briefly on Friday. She said that she will not have another class at the Diploma Mill until Spring term next year.

Either the appraiser or the home inspector came by yesterday. In addition to leaving the front door unlocked and the lights on, the loser also left a stain in my new carpet. These losers have no respect for other people's property.

I have been making good progress with my Nalu Board, especially for an old fossil. My legs are still wobbly when I squat further down as I would on a surfboard. Oddly, my thighs and quads are not hurting. I thought about starting a weight workout for my legs at the gym, but thought better of it. I only do upper body weight workouts now. Weights are good for isolation of muscle groups and increasing muscle mass. However, the dynamic nature of the Nalu Board is better for developing all of the muscles needed to improve my balance.

Chez Loser. The eventual sale of Chez Loser is primarily to cash out the equity and capital gains that it has accrued in the last two years. The so-called "housing bubble" is only a minor consideration. If Chez Loser remains unsold, it will not be a loss to me. I still need a place to live. My mortgage is now cheaper than the rent for an equivalent place. What would I lose if the "bubble" burst? I seriously doubt that the price would return to what I had purchased the place for. Part of the gains can be used to pay for another place. I've already made some initial calculations. I could easily make the 20 percent down payment next time around and still have enough left to yield a nice income, albeit taxable.

If I do purchase another place, it will be smaller. Most likely, a studio. Even though I may pay at the peak of the so-called "bubble," I anticipate a smaller overall loss in the worst-case scenario. I would assume the same loss if I had simply rented a place. What if I cannot sell it in a few years? Then, I will be forced to stay there. No matter where I go, I will have to tolerate shitty neighbors. The general populace is comprised of selfish and inconsiderate people. The bottom line is that the sale of Chez Loser will bring in much more cash than I could have saved.

An article in the paper a couple of days ago had the headline, "Fire Leaves 16 People Homeless." The "home" was a two-bedroom apartment in Waipahu where six adults and 12 kids lived. Is this an isolated case? I surmise that the latter case is a trend that is increasing. I've already mentioned many times that, in most of the primarily local residential neighborhoods, each house has between four to eight cars parked in the garage, driveway, and on the street. Students also comprise a large number of renters. They tend to stuff a minimum of four people per two-bedroom apartment. Thus, even if there is a significant increase in rental units, or if the rental leases come down, there will never be a glut. Mind you, regular apartment living will be a nightmare. I do have a better chance of saving my sanity in a condo complex that is comprised mostly of owner occupants. Believe me, I already know that the living situation at Chez Loser will have been much more tolerable than what I may encounter at my next place of residence.

Obesity. Some readers may feel that I am overtly cruel with respect to the rising number of fat slobs. Let me tell you, I could have easily become a fat slob myself. Each day, I fight the effects of old age. People in their forties don't even realize the rapid decline that can occur after age fifty. Therefore, I maintain a semi-rigid diet. I also work out at the gym religiously. Neither the latter or former give me great pleasure, if I were to address this issue from Anonder's "pain versus pleasure" thesis. It would seem that I am making a sacrifice in "quality of life" because eating whatever tastes good and lazily lounging around are certainly much more pleasurable. Sometimes pain isn't so bad, and I don't say that because I am glutton for punishment.

Why the fixation with obesity? It is getting to be a problem of epidemic proportions, and it is avoidable. How do fat slobs affect me? Well, in the end, they are going to contribute to the rapid demise of the healthcare system. When I ride the bus, I find that overweight passengers literally must sit on me if they are in the next seat. There are also indications that several tragic accidents (i.e., plane crashes, boat capsizings, etc.) were due to passenger overload (weight versus number).

I am around people in my age group all the time these days. This is what I was told to do by said peers. All I see are out-of-shape, pill popping hypochondriacs. All of them are overweight and suffering from a variety of maladies (e.g., chronic depression, diabetes, impotence, stress, etc.). Some have psychological problems. I do not suffer from these maladies because of the moderately painful regimen that I follow.

Family. Much could be said about the dysfunctional situation with my family. Anonder alleged that I am "determined to become a martyr to Moms so as to lay a big guilt burden on her, perhaps as revenge for the complexes about sex that she burdened him with." I'm not sure that I understand this statement in the context presented within one of threads in Speak! VI. I understand many of the components of my family's dysfunction. Basically, it boils down to being imperfect humans. I will confess that I have washed my hands of my bro and his family. However, I have always owed my respect to my parents, no matter how badly I thought I was raised. Did I really turn out so bad? I don't think so.

I have read Anonder's brief family history in his journal, including the passing of his father and the subsequent legal battle with family members over the estate. It did not seem to me that his family was all that close. I suspect that there was a lot of animosity between Anonder and his parents. What happened between my parents and I is water under the bridge now. When I returned to Hawai'i a few years ago, they were already too old for me to bear any grudges. I don't take any pleasure seeing moms suffer after giving the house to my bro and his wife. I am only there to listen and provide solace. My intent is simply to spend time with the last of my parents, the only people who truly showed love to me. This is really all that keep me human. It's the last thin fiber that allows me to feel compassion, something that I fear I will lose once moms is gone. These feelings are weaknesses to Anonder. Perhaps they truly are because they tend to increase vulnerability. Vulnerability breeds dependence, neither of which allows a true exit from society.

Materialism. The issue of materialism and useless possessions continues to be at the forefront in the "blog" just as it was in the journal. The other day, I bemoaned the fact that I cannot seem to free myself from petty materialism. It's quite an interesting situation, if not a quandary with no solution. Perhaps compromise is all that I can ask for.

Take, for example, my need for toys. I've been good. My last few purchases were quite inexpensive (i.e., surfboard, Nalu Board, etc.). The last expensive toy was my Samsung® LCD widescreen tube. In the last few months, I've been pondering the idea of purchasing a new Apple® notebook computer or a Palm® handheld computer. The notebook computer would have been the logical choice because I could then divest my LCD widescreen tube and DVD player. Yes, I could watch my hurdy-gurdy DVDs on the computer. However, the tube has been my only entertainment in the evenings. Right now, I have cable TV access as part of the Chez Loser maintenance fee. In my next place, I may have no cable. The computer would be almost useless aside from being my DVD player. I do not plan on paying for Net access.

My hurdy-gurdy DVD library and DVD player will become useless once the Vienna Sausage becomes inoperative. From what I can tell, many guys become eunuchs in their fifties. They need medication to combat the age effects of "erectile dysfunction." Of course, impotence can occur prematurely under poor health conditions. So far, in "testing' the Vienna Sausage, I have found that it still works fine. This could be a blessing or a nightmare.

I could rid myself of my Aroma® rice cooker and Mr. Coffee® coffee maker if I stop eating rice and drinking coffee, respectively. Both small appliances were hand-me-downs from moms. However, I cannot get by without my Sharp® microwave oven. Alas, these contemplations must continue. That's part of the adventure.

A Bridge Too Far

I ended up purchasing a bottle of Fetzer® Chardonnay last night at Safeway®. I downed the whole bottle. The reason? I was celebrating the beginning of my unpaid vacation. Really No, not really. Chubs and Dumber, her stupid kid, were home making all kinds of noise. Chubs tried to put Dumbo to sleep after feeding him a lard-based dinner and a box of Ding Dongs® for dessert. What a maroon! Obviously, feeding a fat kid a meal of fat and sugar will only make the fat kid want to run amuck to burn off the excess calories. At 10:30pm, Dumbo was still running around. Chubs was talking on her cell phone and cackling away like an old sea hag.

I managed to get in quite a bit of time on Nalu Board prior to imbibing the "fire water." I am now able to ride the board even longer than yesterday. I will start squatting a little lower as it is more challenging. Later, I will try to learn a few of the board tricks. After I popped the cork on the bottle of wine, I decided to end my Nalu Board practice session. I ended up passing out on the floor in front of the tube. I have no idea when I came to.

I was feeling pretty shitty this morning. I made a pot of coffee. Then, I rode my Nalu Board for a while. I departed for town at 11am. Faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. DI.fm Deep House. Gym. Return to Chez Loser. Tube. Nalu Board. You know the drill.

Debbie, my realtor, has been in constant contact for the last two days. The appraiser and the home inspector are scheduled to come by Chez Loser. Debbie is also helping me with the property disclosure. And, she has requested all of the condo documents as well. As you may have guessed, Chez Loser is in escrow. I am rapidly approaching homelessness.

I have no idea where I am going to live. Long-term "camping" is not going to work for me. Finding a rental is going to be a nightmare. I have looked at a variety of places to possibly purchase. The Executive Center downtown is out. The units are too overpriced for leasehold. The lease rent and maintenance fee are also outrageous. I will look at places in Makiki and Waikiki. There are some old fee simple dumps going for $160,000 or less. My main goal is to avoid any kind of panic. So far, everything has gone well.

There are now six units for sale at the Chez Loser complex. Another fee simple unit like mine just came on the market. So far, my unit is the only one that is going to sell. I am thankful for that. Why am I stubbornly staying in Hawai'i? In general, I love the weather. And, I came back to see my parents. I've explained all of this before. It's what I believe to be the "right thing." As for the future, I will cross that bridge when I come to it.

Life in the Slow Lane

I have tied up a few loose ends here and have updated the status of the most pertinent issues as established in the last few chapters of the journal. I am now running out of material to discuss. There are only a handful of readers. Daily entries are making less sense. Thus, there may be a period of a day or two between entries, if not more, from this point forward.

Preparing to move out of Chez Loser is next on the agenda. I will have to start divesting more of my useless possessions. I am thinking of purchasing a decent quality sleeping bag instead of an airbed. Then, I'll be sleeping on the floor. The airbed is much more comfortable, but it will get in the way. I will also have to rent a Post Office box for mail. Finally, I will have to gather everything that has just been sitting around for months and donate all of it to Goodwill or the Salvation Army.

I received e-mail from Shirley yesterday. She thanked me for the B-day e-card that I had sent over a month ago. Obviously, she has not been on-line much. She is still working at Daiei. She apparently tried for a job at a credit union, but she was given the run-around. She has also applied for a couple of jobs at Pearl Harbor. Shirley mentioned that her sister and father had stopped by Chez Loser to check it out with their realtor. So, that really was them. Shirley is planning to take the next week off, so we may end up getting together for lunch.

When I returned to Chez Loser, I ate my last can of beans for dinner. After dinner, I decided to change my routine. I cut some of the remaining scrap carpet into a long strip. I then laid it out on the living room floor. I put my Nalu Board on it. Then, I rode my Nalu Board while I watched the tube, mostly during the endless advertisements. I am getting better by the day. For the most part, my rides were much longer. However, I have a long way to go. I am still very unstable on the board. Well, hey! I'm a senior citizen!

This is the last day of the Spring term at the Diploma Mill. I will be on unpaid vacation until June 30th. What will I do with myself? I'll spend most of my time preparing for homelessness. I am not at all certain about what will happen next. I become quite fatigued when I ponder my future living arrangements. Oh, how I dread the thought of residing in another mausoleum. Wage slavery is another nuisance. My useless possessions are yet another nuisance.

I had nothing to do all day except to ponder my moronic plight. What I really need is some breathing space. I never seem to get any closer to exiting society. I keep going around in circles, just like all of the fools around me. I have really made zero progress. When I divest one useless possession, I replace it with another. When I make a commitment to exit one facet of this benign life-style, I then enter another. It makes no sense. All I really need is a safe and modest place to live. Nothing fancy. I want to continue surfing. I want to ride my Nalu Board. I want to visit with moms. And, I want to work out at the gym. That is what I consider to be "quality of life." I will work part-time, only to pay for my survival and to insure that I can collect Social Security. I need nothing else. Perhaps, if I ponder this matter long enough, my mind will snap. Then, I'll finally just wash my hands of everything.

I sat in the park near Chinatown this afternoon. I tried to make sense of the quagmire I have made for myself. However, I found myself dozing off because of how peaceful it was. Even the subdued noise of the traffic was calming. Homeless guys were occupying most of the benches. There's not much difference between them and I. My upcoming vacation will be quiet. Pseudo-professor Glenn is going on a cruise, as well as Pseudo-professor Mike. Everyone has someplace to go except for the ol' lavahead.

I have so many things to do, but it's really useless nonsense. For the most part, I'll spend my days in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. Maybe I'll finally go to the dentist, although I'll be paying the total cost of the visit. My truck needs an oil change. I need to divest my useless crap. On and on. In the process, I become older and more decrepit. Yet, I am where I need to be, that is, aside from Costa Rica.

Another benign evening is ahead. I'll be riding my Nalu Board in front of the tube. Then, I'll probably take a jaunt over to Safeway® just before the sprinklers turn on. What a life I'm living!

March of the Wage Slave Penguins

Hawaii is leading the nation in obesity rates, especially among youth, with estimated costs of nearly $300 million a year for related illnesses." -- from Star-Bulletin

So, how does Hawai'i rank as one of the healthiest places in the nation? I debunked that myth in the journal a while back. Overall, the obesity trend is only the tip of the iceberg. Within the next 10 or 20 years, we are going to see a healthcare system needlessly burdened by obesity-related illnesses. These are illnesses that could have been avoided if the cattle would not stuff their faces with toxic junk food. I fully expect the whole healthcare system to collapse.

I had two Sake Martinis at Indigo Happy Hour yesterday. That broke my six-week sobriety. However, at this point in time, I do not feel the need to consume any "fire water." I need to keep my wits about myself. I also saw Robert meandering around outside Che Pasta as Lori and I were eating lunch. He looks a little chunkier. I suspect that he not gone to the gym ever since he abruptly stopped after two months. He is still dying his hair.

When I returned to Chez Loser, all was quiet. Chubs was home at 9pm. That's when the slammin' soirée commenced. The noise was all in the kitchen. When it comes to food, Chubs is all over it. Later, I discovered that Chub's BoyToy was back in the fold. No doubt, he had a change of heart because of three long weeks without the "nookie." Guys are such idiots when it comes to babes. It's all about da wild thing.

I left for town at 9am. I was able to spend a few minutes with my Nalu Board. I've made a bit of progress since Tuesday night. Now, I can actually launch from either side. My rides are still incredibly short. The rest of the day was uneventful (read: same ol' shit). Later, I will spend some time on my Nalu Board. Then, I will numb the oversized cranium in front of the tube.

Pseudo-professor Mike has ordered his bumper stickers for his campaign, but he has not filed the nomination papers yet. He is still trying to get me to invest money in his house in exchange for partial ownership. The house at present is owned by him and his wife. The disposition of the house is up in the air until after he they divorce. From what I can ascertain, he wants me to invest money so that he can turn around and pay off his wife for her share of the property. As you can easily see, the whole scheme is a sham to separate me from my money. He has an alternate plan in which he will persuade Bea, his mistress, to sell her place or obtain a reverse mortgage on it. Then, Bea and I together with him will invest in another place together. Yeah, right. "No one will separate me and my money," I told him.

Anonder has often urged the ol' lavahead to take time off to vacation in a remote part of the world. Anonder himself does this often. In fact, he is now backpacking and camping in Spain for a few months. He has said that it would do wonders for my soul to spend an extended amount of time in solitude. I am already a loner as it is. My tolerance for people decreases each day. I cannot imagine that I would have a newfound love for people after such a journey. I believe that the opposite would occur. In addition, I would most likely develop severe psychopathology which would border on insanity. Unlike Anonder, I do not have the resources to completely exit society as I often wish. I can only attain semi-retirement. I will still have to live amongst people and also work with them for a number of years. For me, it's the March of the Wage Slave Penguins.

Investment Report. The Fed raised the short-term interest rate again, which is good and bad news for the ol' lavahead. His money market fund is now yielding 5.42 percent (annual) which brings in about $1,300 in taxable interest income per month. His one and only mutual fund (IRA) has yet to recover the same NAV before the crash of 2001. His bond fund (IRA) lost about $500 NAV because of rising interest rates, but it yields 4.8 percent (annual). Pressure from global long-term interest rates is pushing up mortgage interest. Thus, the ol' lavahead may be in for a big surprise if he purchases another dump.

Crazy Days Ahead

I played around with my new Nalu Board last night. I cannot believe how bad my balance has become. Well, it never really was good. It may take me a month to get better at it. No wonder I suck at surfing. Sheesh! The Nalu Board is a copy of the original Indo Board®. It's not as aesthetically impressive, but the Nalu Board is just as good, if not better than its competitor. The company delivered as promised. The board was sent by Priority Mail. I paid $25 for shipping, but the actual postage was $33 and some change. If you are interested in playing around with a balance board like the ol' lavahead, try out the Nalu Board.

I read, with some interest, the news coverage about the Shrub administration's dismissal of the letter from Iranian President Ahmadinejad. The reason? The latter failed to address the "nukular" issue. Remember the same charade with Saddam and the alleged "weapons of mass destruction"? It's the same ol' shit again. Israel, Pakistan, and India are fully armed with "weapons of mass destruction" in the region as it is. Why can't the cattle see through this farce? Even here at home, the cattle cannot distinguish between "illegal immigration" and discrimination. There is a reason why Canada's border is wide open while Mexico's border is not.

The acceptance of the counter-offer for Chez Loser was confirmed this morning by e-mail. The buyers want a quick closing, so I anticipate that I will be out of Chez Loser by mid-June. This presents a major problem. I have no place to live once I move out. I also received e-mail that the home inspector will be checking out Chez Loser on May 15th. The documents are being submitted to the escrow service today as well.

I met with Lori for lunch at Che Pasta. She is leaving for China next week. We are planning to start surfing again after she returns to Hawai'i. I need to practice more on my Nalu Board before then. I told Lori about the pending sale of my place. She thinks that I need to purchase another place rather than rent a dump. She also mentioned that she has a new one-person outrigger canoe.

After the gym, I met up with Rob, the former Asylum IT guy, at Indigo for Happy Hour. I was full from lunch, but I stuffed my face anyway. Rob said that he accepted the offer made on his place, but he is not certain if it is in escrow yet. This will make the timing difficult for us to find a place to rent, at least for the interim. Rob had lowered the price of his place from $650,000 to $370,000 because it was not attracting any buyers. In any case, the new adventure has begun.

The Routine. Same ol' shit. Well, maybe it wasn't the same ol' shit.

Loose Ends

Yesterday, I did not hear anything about the second offer for Chez Loser, so I assumed that it never came in. When I returned to Chez Loser, I discovered that the Post Office attempted to deliver my new Nalu Board. I spent the rest of the evening in front of the tube. Chubs did not return home until 2am. The ho' was making all kinds of noise. Stomping. Slamming shit round. Dropping heavy objects on the floor. No doubt, Chubs was drunk again. I am not too concerned anymore. Soon, the ho' will be putz's problem.

I woke up at 7am and made a pot of coffee. At about 8:30am, I drove to the Post Office to pick up the parcel. When I returned home, I unpacked my new Nalu Board. It's pretty nifty. I played with it for a few minutes and noted how easy it would be to maim myself. Chubs woke up at 9:30am. There was a flurry of thuds amidst all the stomping. Then, the ho' left.

The rest of the day will be uneventful. End up in town. Faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. Gym. Back to Chez Loser. Eat a can of beans with rice. Vegetate in front of the tube. Play with my new Nalu Board.

I've also learned a few more details about the "camping" situation in Waimanalo. It turns out that the majority of "campers" are derelicts. Crime, drugs, violence are typical. The locals do not even go there anymore. And, the police have been looking the other way. When I was out there a few weeks ago, I was risking my life. Now I understand why no one else (aside from the derelicts) was around.

The "blog" statistics have been tracked using Blog Patrol. However, like most free Net services, the site's servers are overtaxed. I am not certain whether the numbers reported are even accurate. The number reported in the box is supposedly the count of unique visitors based upon IP addresses. The number of page visits is much higher.

Well, since I have nothing else better to do, I should tie up the loose ends from the original journal. Really, there is only one loose end. The journal was compromised when I had to remove all references to the former friend. I am not going to delve into the details. I will just give a minor synopsis of what transpired. Then, I will discuss how the journal came into play.

I had actually met the former friend a couple of times before she started to hang out at the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. One day, we were walking down the hallway and she asked me if I was a student or a faculty member. I replied that I was faculty. She introduced herself and said that she was faculty also. She taught biology classes. Right then, I realized what a hottie she was. In February 2003, she started coming by the faculty computer room right before her class. We started chatting. She had a very alluring accent. It turns out that she was "Persian," which is what most Iranians call themselves.

About that time, I was beginning to suffer from mid-life crisis. Well, the latter was actually an on-going malady. It flared up when I met the former friend. I became quite anxious about life. I decided that Summer was going to be a turning point. With that, I contacted Shirley and asked her if she wanted to do a bunch of Summer activities. Shirley agreed. I even offered to pay her way since I knew that she was short on dinero. Right before the end of the Spring term, I asked the former friend to join Shirley and I on the first outing, which was a hike up Diamond Head. Shirley easily figured out the situation. On the day of the hike, Shirley was quite distant when we were hiking up Diamond Head. In fact, she was way ahead of the former friend and I. That was the start of the next few months. We did a number of activities. In the middle of Summer, a few of my students joined the group. And, another long lost friend, John from Heald also joined.

I became quite enamored of the former friend. That was a topic of endless conversation between Shirley and I. Yes, at one time, Shirley and I were pretty good friends. We chatted almost daily on the phone, if we didn't run into each other during the day. The former friend became close to Shirley as well. Thus, the matter of loyalty could have come into play later on.

I won't go into much more detail. I did ask the former friend out once, but she turned me down. Things were a little strained for a few weeks. Then, somehow we started hanging out more. Shirley did not join us very often at that point. So, it was just the former friend and I. Nothing happened, of course. In the end, the former friend moved back to Cali. That was March 2004, just before Spring Break. I had just purchased Chez Loser. The former friend gave me a bunch of furniture and other stuff prior to departing to hawai'i. I moved it out of her apartment with the help of Pseudo-professor Ralph. During Spring Break, I flew to Cali to visit friends. It had been years since I had left Hawai'i. I was in Northern Cali. I flew down to LA to visit the former friend as well. And, that was the last time that I saw her.

The problem came about after the former friend did an ego-search for herself. She discovered several threads in an older version of the discussion forums. In the journal, I had painfully described every detail of infatuation with the former friend and more. Since the ol' lavahead just loves to write, he ended up spinning quite a tale of obsession. Although some may doubt what I say, I spent a lot of time thinking up ways to make my story seem ever so much like mid-life crisis gone awry. Apparently, I succeeded especially with the former friend. It's all water under the bridge now.

I am a monk. An eunuch. I don't concern myself with babes. My goal is to exit society, not to further entrench myself in it. the sad part about surgically removing those portions of the journal is that no one will benefit from the lesson learned. Quite a few people have read the entire journal and have sent e-mail to say how it has helped them out in one way or another. Reading a perspective from someone who has the same kind of mistakes is often comforting. Alas, that is neither here or there. The important thing is that the "blog" is here to continue where the journal left off.

Late Breaking News. This just in at 5:19pm HST. The counter-offer for Chez Loser has been accepted!

Revenge of the Stoneheads

Well, it is quite clear that Hawai'i is on the same destructive path once taken by the Moai. We've erected technological versions of the infamous Easter Island stoneheads, all monuments and testimony to human stupidity. By the way, have you checked out, "House II: The Second Story"? Did you see the cheesy skull? Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaaa!

I returned to Chez Loser at 4:15pm yesterday. I was able to chat with Debbie, my realtor, in between the time people showed up for the Open House. A suspicious haole guy returned to pick up a fact sheet. He claimed that he forgot to take one. He then revealed that he was a party (husband) of the offer that was submitted. He had stopped by earlier, but not revealed this fact to Debbie. He asked a few foolish questions, which seemed as though he was making a case for submitting such a low bid. From what I could tell, his wife had made the decision that she wanted the place. Isn't that how it always works? To salvage his manhood, putz decided to take it upon himself to become a real estate mogul. He briefly discussed his insulting offer. Debbie mentioned that we were going to make a counter-offer. "That's the nature of the game," putz responded, which revealed his true intentions. After the Open House, Debbie and I noticed that the Open House sign had been turned around so the arrow was facing in the opposite direction. The only person who would have done that was putz.

A few other people came by, two of them neighbors of mine. Debbie called up the putz's realtor. She negotiated a counter-offer. The realtor had to get back with putz to confer with him. After a few more phone exchanges, the realtor made a final call with a compromise proposal. I would lower the price by $9,000 and add on the 1.5 percent cash credit. The final selling price would then be $364,000 and some change. I would get $360,000 after the credit and before selling costs are deducted. Debbie also said that she would give me one-third of her commission if and when I purchased a new place to help compensate.

The paperwork for the counter-offer was sent by e-mail this morning. I perused the documents briefly before taking the bus to Kahala Mall to meet up with moms. We ate lunch at Panda Express®. We got to chat for a while. After I returned to town, I had to meet Debbie across the street to submit the documents. Debbie mentioned that there might be another offer later today.

The downtown gym finally opened today. I was able to do a short cardio workout and take my shower. I may still consider going to the Kapi'olani gym every now and then.

Meltdown Hawai'i

"I'm a hundred-seventy-year-old fart." -- Gramps in "House II: The Second Story."

I spoke with Debbie, my realtor, late yesterday afternoon. She mentioned that the potential buyers were also asking for a three percent credit for closing costs. In other words, they want me to pay them $11,000 cash in addition to lowering the price. The reason, according to Debbie, is that they are seeking 100 percent financing, which means they have essentially no cash. I also noticed that the potential buyers want a $1,000 cleaning credit (read: more cash), too. Chez Loser is clean. The place has new carpets. There is no furniture. I don't even take a shower there. Cleaning credit, my ass! Debbie is going to look over the offer and come up with a counter-offer. The ridiculous offer brings the price of Chez Loser too close to the leasehold units, which means I would be losing money. Debbie also mentioned that Kamehameha Schools (Bishop Estate) has put a hold on current lease negotiations, indicating that the fee purchase may be much higher soon. Obviously, lease rates and fee purchases are not going to decrease.

Chubs was not home all night again. How could I be so blessed? I spent the evening in front of the tube. For a break, I went shopping at Safeway® and Longs®. I was looking for canned pork & beans again. Nothing at Longs. Safeway had the Van Camp's® Pork and Beans in stock at $1.59 per can. That's highway robbery, dag nabit!

This morning, I cleaned up Chez Loser in preparation for the Open House. Then, I departed for town at 10am. I was able to transfer to another bus within a few minutes after arriving in town. I was at the Kapi'olani gym by 11:20am. The gym was fairly crowded. There were babes everywhere. I did my usual Monday workout today. Yesterday, I did my usual Wednesday workout because I did not go the gym on that day. A former Asylum students, Joe, works at the Kapi'olani gym. He told me that the downtown gym may not be operational for a few more days.

I was able to catch a bus back to town fairly quickly. I spent a couple of hours at the student computer lab at the Diploma Mill. Since I do not own a computer anymore, I must compose the "blog" at inconvenient times. Thus, I am composing this at 1:47pm HST. I can only guess what the rest of the day will be like. I plan to return to Chez Loser and chat with Debbie before the Open House is over. Then, I will make dinner, which will consist of frozen vegetables, rice, and my last can of beans. More details about my foolish diet in the last chapter of the journal.

Meltdown. I have tried to include relevant details about the ridiculous cost of living here in Hawai'i. As of Friday, the "gas cap" law was repealed as a result of the public furor over high petrol prices. Incidentally, petrol prices never went down prior to the "gas cap." Thus, the State government waited until prices were incredibly high before repealing the cap. Really, the whole situation can be summarized by a can of beans. The regular price of my favorite can of pork & beans is $1.59 each. Does this sound a little high to you? This will be a never-ending cycle from this point forward, especially now that we may have entered the era of Peak Oil. Hawai'i is totally dependent on imports of all goods. Hence, we are at critical mass. Meltdown is inevitable. We've got limited supplies of fresh water. Our landfills are at capacity. All agricultural land has been converted to residential use. Traffic is beyond comprehension. The infrastructure is overtaxed as evidenced by the recent dumping of raw sewage which closed all South shore beaches. Yet, development just continues as if there are unlimited resources and no tomorrow. Something's gotta give.

Hawai'i is only a small part of the world. However, what goes on in the microcosm may reveal the cracks developing in the macrocosm. Overpopulation. Pollution. Global warming. Peak Oil. Resource wars. Pandemic outbreaks. Famine. Poverty. Obesity. Junk food. Chronic illness. Garbage and trash. Consumerism. Greed. Corruption. And so on. The negative synergy caused by these components is bringing us very close to the Apocalypse.

Hog Call

I received both a call and e-mail from Debbie, my realtor. There were four showings scheduled for Saturday and another Open House on Sunday. The good news was that an offer is coming in this weekend. My first offer! The bad news? I could be homeless within two months.

Lori and I briefly communicated by e-mail. We may meet for lunch next week. Lori has only two weeks before she is heading for China for the Great Wall Marathon, or something like that. The trip is apparently costing $10,500 and some change. We are probably going to get back into surfing once she returns. The ocean on the South shore is reported to be clean now, although I am suspicious of the latter. However, many people have started going back in the water without incident.

I joined Pseudo-professor Glenn briefly for monthly Art Walk (also called First Friday). The event was boring this month. Hardly anyone was out, most likely because of Cinco de Mayo.

Chubs did not return last night, so I enjoyed the peace and quiet. However, the ho' and her oversized offspring returned early this morning. The dumb ho' turned the air conditioner on in her room and passed out. Well, hey! It's hard work climbing the one flight of stairs. Her stupid "ton o' fun" kid began a marathon back and forth running session. Each step with his club feet creates a loud thud. My ceiling fans were vibrating, and white shit was raining from my ceiling. The sad part is that the fat little hog is probably only five years old. I left at 10am for town. However, I was fuming. What if the little lard ass kept that crap up all day, especially during when the realtors bring their clients over for the showings? I should have launched into my infamous hog call. Suuuuuweeeee! Suuuuuweeee! If the two swine make me lose out on a potential sale, I may go on a homicidal rampage.

I ended up at the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill as usual. I had some work to do. Then, I had to write my usual bullshit for the "blog." Frankly, I am really enjoying the writing. That is the kind of loser I am. The gym in town is still closed for repairs, so I had to go to the Kapi'olani branch again. Debbie, my realtor, called while I was at the gym. She left a message saying that the offer was $350,000 for Chez Loser. That's $19,000 than my asking price. Shit! I will have to discuss the strategy with her. This is my only offer so far, but I do not want to desperately settle for less.

By the way, transporting myself by mass transit to the Kapi'olani gym on the weekends is a nightmare. I waited over 30 minutes for a bus to return to town on one of the busiest routes. In fact, the weekend bus schedule for all routes is is quite minimal. My guess is that most people drive on the weekends because they are going out on their usual shopping sprees. I spent the rest of the day in town. I was able to listen to DI.fm Deep House , thank goodness. I'll spend the rest of evening watching benign programming on the tube. Incidentally, I watched "House II: The Second Story" last night. What a riot! Gramps steals the show!

Rhetoric & Rubric

Chubs returned at about 10:30pm last night. Stomping. Slammin' soirée. Chubs was obviously drunk again. There was a lot of noise in the kitchen. Well, after a long night of drinking, Chubs was famished. It sounded as if Chubs was frantically trying to put something together to stuff in her face. At one point, there was a huge thud. Chubs was probably standing on a chair in order to reach for the Costco-sized box of Snackwells® hidden in the cupboard and then jumped off the chair in sheer ecstasy when she found 'em. Of course, if Chubs looked like Roselyn Sanchez, then things would be different.

I was given a whole loaf of Hawai'ian sweet bread the other day. I polished off the loaf in two days, even though I noticed the absence of the "Nutritional Facts" label. I did look at the ingredients. The sweet bread was toxic. Partially hydrogenated oils, BHT, food coloring, lots of sugar. I might as well have downed a bottle of Drano®.

The rest of the day was uneventful. This was the last day of the term at the Diploma Mill. One more week left for final exams. I must also complete my grading for The Seminary. The gym in town was still closed and may remain that was for a few more days. So, I will have to go to one of the other locations.

Did you notice that the diagram for Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs is depicted as a pyramid? Can you guess how many cattle actually become human enough to attain "self-actualization"? Do you think that money (read: dinero, mullah) determines what strata one falls into? Obviously, these are rhetorical questions.

I received e-mail the other day from Mr. Ray. He been toolin' around the country with his father. I've been reading his adventures on his "blog." Quite interesting. You know, I'm getting to like this "blog" concept. Many of the cattle will classify the ol' lavahead as "anal retentive" because he refuses to use the text messaging syntax so popular today. In addition, he firmly obeys rules such as putting quotation marks around the word, "blog." Let's face it. The cattle do not even know the meaning of the phrase, "anal retentive." In fact, the closest that they get to comprehending the latter is when they use toilet paper.

The "Blog." Fewer people visit the "blog" than the journal. That's what the Blog Patrol statistics reveal. Well, I will continue to "blog" the journal for now. The entries will continue daily while I still have time on my hands as well as material to discuss. There are far too many other options out on the Net to read. Well, we will soldier on until the day comes when it's time to put the whole thing out to pasture.

Future Health Crisis. The Star-Bulletin had a couple of interesting articles last night. One article cited that 29 percent of all kids entering school (K-12) are overweight or obese in Hawai'i. The other article the State regulatory control over health insurance premiums has ended. Thus, health care providers can raise premiums at any time with no restraint.

The first issue is obesity. Aside from the fact that Chubs is going to fall through my ceiling sometime soon, there are wider ramifications. The obesity rate in Hawai'i is coincident with national figures, of which the US leads amongst all nations. It does not take a rocket scientist to see how obesity will affect us all. It should be common knowledge that the common denominator amongst all chronic diseases is excess blubber. Fat stores most of the toxins that we are ingesting and slowly poisons the body over the years. The more blubber, the more toxins stored. Hence, the higher risk of of even more chronic problems.

Obscure reports have indicated that long-term healthcare facilities will be severely limited in the near future, especially with the first of the Baby Boom Generation soon retiring. With the way the cattle are converting their bodies to toxic waste dumps, there will be no way to meet the needs of the latter as they become senior citizens with extreme chronic illnesses. The problem is also more immediate. Have you ever been to an HMO clinic during the day? Any day? It's more crowded than the mall. When I did have a health plan, I only went to the clinic once in a year.

I dare say that the current problems are exacerbated by all of the medication ads on the tube. The cattle are going in to see their physicians and demanding to be put on meds. Have you ever listened to the narrator at then edn when he is going through all the contraindications as fast as possible. It's almost unintelligible. The one part you should hear is, "Don't take if you have liver problems." I don't think that the average clown realizes that meds are essentially toxins. Most meds work on specific parts of the brain. That's right, the meds saturate the tiny pea-sized gray matter in the cranium. The residual toxins must be filtered out. Well, guess what does all the filtering. Yes, the liver!

With the possibility that health insurance rates will go sky high, I have prospect of ever having health insurance again. I am not really sad, although it does create some anxiety. Health insurance premiums have to go up. With so many people illin', there is no other way to subsidize the cost. The insurance premiums average across all of the insured. In other words, the only people who benefit from health insurance are the ones who are constantly at the doctor's office (which is almost everyone). Frankly, I predict that the whole healthcare industry is going to collapse, and we'll be up shit creek without a paddle. Something to think about.

No Escape for the Weary

I decided late yesterday afternoon to take up the invitation for dinner from Pseudo-professor Mike. I walked over to the Honolulu Tower. The dinner was held at Bea's place. There a few other people there as well. Dinner was delicious. We sat around after dinner. I somehow got caught up playing with his Apple® MacBook. In my mind, I imagined that I needed one myself. Then, reality set in. At most, I will require a Palm® device, such as the Tx model. I was able to take a shower there, which was nice since the gym was closed. Pseudo-professor Mike gave me a ride back to Chez Loser.

Pseudo-professor Mike is a "dreamer." In chatting with him about his ambition to run for public office, I discovered an incongruence between the end result and the means to get there. Dreamers are an interesting group. I've met quite a few of them in my lifetime. They tend to have grandiose plans, but have neither the resources or the perseverance to reach their goals. Not one of these "dreamer" acquaintances have gone beyond the mundane. Oddly, they always seem to have significant others who double as "enablers" of the malady. In the weeks to come, I expect those political aspirations to silently disappear.

Chubs and her stupid kid were both home when I returned at 9:30pm. I could hear the stupid kid running back and forth. Fortunately, the two chunky monkeys went beddy-bye within a few minutes. The two morons were up fairly early. Chubs' little oinker was running back and forth continuously after he woke up. I thought the ceiling was going to cave in. I have determined that the hyperactivity displayed by Chubs' stupid kid is extreme psychomotor agitation caused by the build-up of excess blubber. The little shit needs some exercise! Chubs was stomping around as well. I have determined that Chubs must stomp while walking because the excess blubber in her thighs and fat ass does not allow her to extend and lift her thunderous legs. Even though Chubs is unable to lift those huge limbs high enough to exhibit some grace in movement, the sheer inertia created by their weight causes her club feet to impact the floor with an "eight on the Richter scale" tremor.

I made my car insurance premium payment this morning. Last week, I had called the GEICO® local office and was told that I could use a credit card. Somehow, I was connected to some mainland office in NY. What a difference! The clown acted like he was doing me a favor, what with the "new" policy of not accepting credit card payments and all. I should have told him to take his right hand and move it up and down, if you know what I mean. I have been doing everything that I can to charge all purchases to plastic money. That way, I can reap my paltry one-percent cash reward. Well, hey! I'm in survival mode!

I had dreaded making the jaunt over to the Kapi'olani branch of 24 Hour Fitness®. It's the largest of all the branches here. In addition, I heard that it was always crowded. A lot of my guy students used to urge me to go because all of the exotic dancers exercise there. Well, I missed my work out yesterday, and I was feeling very sluggish. I called the downtown gym. It was still closed for repairs. So, I transported myself by bus to the other gym. I was surprised to find that it was not crowded at all. The size of the building and number of machines made a difference, I suppose. I only saw two babes the whole time I was there. The reason is probably because there is a small chick gym inside. Guys are not allowed. I did a really good workout. In fact, I am thinking about becoming a regular there.

Economics. Because of my precarious employment situation and fragile mental state, I have been forced down Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. I am in the survival strata which includes both the physiological and safety needs. I have been stuck there forever. When will I ever escape? Never. My only goal is to separate myself from the cattle who impersonate humans. Then, I can at least salvage what's left of sanity.

See, that's the sheer stupidity of our life-style. Ignorance is bliss.The only reason that I and the cattle are poor and destitute is because we are caught up in an economic system based on wage slavery and consumption. All of the higher level "needs" have been usurped by a consumerist model. The world banking system is what keeps us confined to an arbitrary caste system which is shaped like a pyramid. Obviously, the masses of idiots are way at the bottom. A caste system such as this can only be implemented through the regulation of money. Money is no longer backed by hard currency (read: gold) anymore. So, why are there so many poor and destitute? The central banks could just print more paper money and give it to everyone. It's not backed by anything, so why not? Well, if the the plan is to only have a few people at the pinnacle of the pyramid, then the answer becomes clear. Distribution of wealth must be controlled.

Wage Slavery. I am going on unpaid vacation right after the term ends next week at the Diploma Mill. I'll have about six weeks off until my Summer classes commence. Right now, I am only working three days per week, and I may put in a total of two hours. I actually get paid quite well, although I no longer have any health insurance. I've had to get up early and catch the express bus to town every day for the last three months. In that time, I felt like a true wage slave, but I really wasn't. The other people on the bus, as well as those who were racing to the freeway in their cars as I stood at the bus stop, have been doing the same grind for years. I have been extremely fortunate.

Living life frugally and not falling into the consumerist trap are certainly not the chosen path for the majority of people. However, it has proven to be the best way for me to survive and enjoy some semblance of peace of mind. Living healthy, eating right, and doing things that I want to do ... well, that's what life is all about for the ol' lavahead. The exodus has been slow and painful at times. However, I have not truly suffered. I have essentially discovered freedom, but only a small taste.

Retrospective

I left my bottle of shampoo at the gym again on Monday. I cannot even remember how many times this has happened. I have been purchasing small travel-sized bottles which I fill with shampoo. However, at 69 cents per bottle, restocking it becomes costly. Why do I leave the bottles at the gym? Because I am damned senile, that's why! I'm a senior citizen and a card carrying member of the AARP®. Well, I'm just going to start carrying the big-ass bottle of shampoo with me. Obviously, the big-ass bottle will add at least a pound of weight to my gym bag. At the least, the big-ass bottle will be conspicuous enough for me to not forget it. If I lose the big-ass bottle, then I might as well give up and check in to the "ranch" already. Sheesh!

The whole reason that I must take a shower at the gym is because Chez Loser has no hot water. I have had no hot water since I purchased the dump two years ago. At the time, natural gas would have run me about $25 per month. I have no idea what it is now, but it is much higher than that. I am not going to pay that much just for the luxury of taking a three-minute hot shower every night.

Becoming a senior citizen has not been a good experience for me. I am old and decrepit. I am also completely worn out from a cruel bout of mid-life crisis, the peak of which happened two years ago. As you may recall, I was cavorting around with young hotties, one being the former friend. Obviously, I had a thing for the former friend. The whole excruciatingly painful event was chronicled in the journal. However, after the former friend had inadvertently discovered the journal while performing an ego-search, I had to remove any reference to her. That's why over 25 chapters of the journal (commencing in February 2003) were edited beyond comprehension. The integrity of the journal was compromised. After that, I lost my "connection" to the journal. Later, I tried to locate archive copies of the edited chapters. To no avail. Thus, I was not too heartbroken about deviating to this "blog" format.

I had thought about using the third-person format that was utilized in the now-defunct Myspace "blog" experiment. I have to admit that the latter was quite hilarious. I had used code names. For example, "Senior Citizen Recreation Center" was used to mask the identity of several local watering holes. "Satanic Gargoyles" described the fat-ass administrators at the dreadful Asylum. I referred to myself as "Monk." The stories were real, but they were veiled in a mystical journey of the mind.

Speaking of the former friend, she would probably lose it if she knew that I still have the futon that she gave me. Well, during the fiasco, I ended up sending her a check to pay for the stuff that she gave me. The futon actually proved to be quite useful. By the way, I had a very nice bed, which I bought off of Lori's friend. I sold the bed about two months ago, but I kept the futon. It's not as comfortable as the bed, but it can be converted to a sofa. Very nice. Shirley gave me crap about that. "You think about her when you sleep on it, don't you?" she would say. Oh, what a fool I was! Actually, I may try to recreate, albeit summarily, the chronology of events with the former friend that led to the journal's demise. Heck, I'm a senior citizen now. An "old geezer." I have nothing else better to do. So, stay tuned!

Well, at least I have my beloved 2005 Nissan® Frontier NISMO truck. It uses up hella petrol, but I hardly drive it. Right now, the damned thing is costing me an arm and a leg, what with insurance, registration, and whatever. However, my truck is much more reliable than a babe and probably less costly. Who needs babes anyway? I have my beloved hurdy-gurdy DVD library.

When I returned home yesterday, I observed that the lanai gate was almost completely rebuilt. It needs to be painted, but it looks and works great. I spent most of the evening lapsing in and out of a coma again. I find the latter to be much more relaxing than watching the tube. I drove to Longs® at 9:30pm, coincident with the time the lawn sprinklers come to life. My truck has a covered carport stall, but the overspray from the sprinkler is pretty bad. It took me hours to barely remove the water spots.

Longs® was a nightmare. Everything that I needed (read: Van Camp's® Pork & Beans) was out. I suspect that hording is going be on the rise here in Hawai'i as the cost of living continues to go up. I also bought a bottle of Longs generic psyllium. What a joke! It turned out that the piece of shit contains 50 percent sugar, as opposed to the stuff moms buys at an organic food store. I've been taking pure psyllium as a means to combat my high cholesterol problem without the use of shitty medication.

Chubs was home for about an hour before going out clubbing again. Chubs returned at 1:30am, making all kinds of noise. No doubt, Chubs was hammered. I am fortunate that Chubs is an irresponsible parent. Her stupid kid is rarely around. Who is raising the little piglet? Probably Chubs' parents. Chubs is definitely in her early twenties. She probably got pregnant in high school just like so many other locals. The father is long gone. I doubt that she even went to college. So, how can she afford to purchase a $380,000 townhouse and a $40,000 Accura? Same answer: her parents. Most of the parents here in Hawai'i will risk bankruptcy just to help their useless kids. Are the kids grateful? No. I met moms at Kahala Mall. We had just enough time for lunch. Then, we sat at the bus top to wait for moms' bus to arrive. We didn't really have to chat about, so I assume that the situation with my bro and his family has subsided.

I ran into Pseudo-professor Mike after I returned to the Diploma Mill. He wants to recruit me as his campaign manager. His plan is to run for US House of Representatives. This could be interesting. He invited me over for dinner this evening, but I am not sure if I will comply. Lately, I have been feeling very much like a hermit.

I received e-mail from Rob, the former IT guy at the Asylum. He said that he has got an offer on his place, so it is going through escrow. He wants to meet at Indigo Happy Hour next week. One of our contingency plans was to find a place to rent together for a year once we sold our respective places. That way, we would have time to get our individual finances settled. I'm not sure if this is a viable plan. I am sure that we will look like two senior citizen faggots. I am not homophobic. I would just rather not be mistaken for anything other than an eunuch.

I walked over to the gym in the afternoon only to discover that it was closed because of flooding. Most likely, a water main broke. Damn it! Where in tarnation am I going to take a shower? The main part of the gym is in the basement. It's quite interesting because the space was once occupied by a bank. So, two of the vault doors are still there. Well, the sinister kahuna is at it again, always toying with the oversized cranium. Oh, what a life I'm living!