The outing to Ward's Rafters yesterday turned out to be enjoyable. Bea had prepared all kinds of food. Bea's niece, Lianne, is actually a babe. Lianne seemed to be doing quite well, considering the tragic loss of both her parents. Lianne has been staying with Bea for about a week now. We stayed until 5:15pm. I rode back to town with the group. Then, I went to the gym to do my usual cardio workout. Pseudo-professor Mike said that he was going to be doing work in his office for a few hours. I dropped in to chat with him for a bit after the gym. I departed for Kapahulu at 7:45pm on the bus.
Upon arrival in Kapahulu, I discovered that Rob, the former IT guy at the Asylum, was home. He was sitting at the computer. All of the windows were shut tight. The place was hot and stuffy. Rob was smelling a little ripe again, no doubt because he has not taken a shower in two days. His hair has grown out and looks totally unkempt. He had just returned from his aunt's place. He goes there every Sunday for dinner. By the way, Rob's apartment is beginning to absorb his body odor. My clothes are also absorbing the smell as well as my own skin. Rob spent the rest of the evening in front of the computer. He is working on a project for the real estate office that is handling the Kalihi property. Coincidentally, Pam is a realtor for that office. Rob made assorted old man noises while the tube was blaring in the background. At one point, Rob plopped himself in the camping chair and fell asleep for 20 minutes. I observed that the fabric of the backrest of the chair was completely torn. Rob must now lean against the wall. I thought that he was going to pull an "all-nighter" for sure. However, at 11:30pm, he decided to call it a night.
Hard as it may be to believe, I am concerned about Rob. However, he is 58 years old. I cannot tell him how to manage his life. He is not independently wealthy. Thus, he will need to return to the mainstream of wage slavery. Well, that is, unless Internet Jon comes through with the project. Returning to the mainstream will mean that Rob must comply with social rules as well as maintain personal hygiene. As it stands right now, Rob is setting himself up to be hardcore unemployable.
This morning, I woke up fairly early. Rob was still sleeping when I left for town on the bus at 7am. I arrived in town 30 minutes later. I immediately contacted my investment bank through live chat. However, I was told that I had to call in by phone. I was able to cancel the pending ACH transfer of $25,000 and initiate a new transfer. The investment bank will now wire transfer $51,400 to my local bank. It should be here by Wednesday. Whew!
At 10am, I departed for Kahala Mall on the bus. I met moms at the entrance to the mall. We ate lunch at Panda Express® as usual. We were able to chat and catch up on the news. I updated moms about my situation. I waited with moms at the bus stop. Then, I returned to town. The rest of the afternoon? Gym. Faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. I'll probably go to Taco Bell® for dinner before leaving town.
Monday, July 31, 2006
Sunday, July 30, 2006
Escape from Insanity
Yesterday, I walked to Safeway® after the student computer lab at the Diploma Mill closed. I bought a sandwich and a couple of bagels. I sat outside along Fort Street mall and ate my sandwich. I couldn't help but observe that I really looked like a homeless guy. After I finished my meal, I rode the bus back to Kapahulu. Rob, the former IT guy at the Asylum, was home when I arrived. He was just about ready to leave for the Bon Dance festival. I noticed that he had hung up his new curtains in the living room.
After Rob left, I vegetated. Earlier, I had tried to transfer funds to my local bank, but I was thwarted by my investment firm. I discovered that I could not transfer any more than $25,000 on-line. In addition, there is a five-day holding period. I almost lost my mind. I must have $51,400 in the bank by Tuesday afternoon. Naturally, the offices were closed. So, I will have to wait until Monday to see if I can straighten out this mess. The real problem is that the closing for the "condotel" unit is scheduled for Thursday. My level of stress increased by the minute. What I find interesting is my inability to access my dough. It's my dough, but the banks and financial institutions don't want me to access it. Why? The standard line is that these procedures are for my "protection," what with all the terrorism, drug money laundering, and identity theft. The bottom line is that the financial institutions have deliberately set up hurdles to prevent the investor from withdrawing any assets.
Why is the purchase of the "condotel" unit completely jinxed? That's the question I kept asking myself all day. Should I just renege on the deal and forfeit the $5,000 deposit in escrow? There is almost no question that the sequence of events is giving me a clue that the sale should not proceed. Either that, or the sinister kahuna is simply toying with the oversized cranium.
The bottom line is always money. Dinero. Cabbage. "Follow the money," we are always told when some kind of suspicious nonsense takes place. Life in modern society is all about money and possessions. We are both the perpetrators and the victims. Take a look at the sheer number of keys you must carry around, all to safeguard your possessions. Look at all the passwords and access codes you must remember. See how many alarms you must set. This is the worst kind of fear. The fear of losing all of your worldly possessions to the "Boogeyman." We live under the axiom, "If it ain't bolted down, it will be stolen." It boils down to the issue of greed and covetousness. Greed has become so all-pervasive that nothing can keep it in check anymore. The desire to amass more and more money and material possessions has become malignant. Frankly, I'm sick of it.
When Rob returned last night, we ended up driving to Foodland. I purchased a big-ass bottle of the "Hammer" (read: Corbett Canyon® Chardonnay). Rob and I polished off the bottle. We actually had a good time chatting all night. Rob is an okay guy when he's not in his protective shell. The problem is that he's always in his shell. He seems to dislike any kind of social context. If Internet Jon was not around, Rob would probably be in deep shit.
Rob was up very early this morning. He was on the computer by 7am. I was extremely groggy. I discovered that Rob takes naps in the afternoon, which is why he gets by on so little sleep at night. I do not have the luxury of naps, so I must survive on the little sleep that I've been getting. The combination of stress and booze is causing pains in my gut again. No doubt, my liver is giving out. The sinister kahuna is probably laughing its ass off as we speak.
I rode to Ala Moana Center with Rob. First, we stopped at McDonald's®. Rob ordered his breakfast. I purchased a big cup of coffee. We chatted for a while, but Rob had already descended back into the deep caverns of his protective shell. At Ala Moana Center, Rob was off on his shopping spree. I walked to the main bus stop. In a matter of minutes, I found myself downtown. I sat outside along Fort Street Mall on one of the benches. It was extremely hot. I decided to go to the gym and take a shower. After a nice shower, I purchased another big cup of coffee at the McDonald's® in town. I sat outside along Fort Street Mall near the Diploma Mill and drank my coffee. I observed an incredible number of homeless people walking about or sitting in various spots. One homeless guy sat just a few feet away from me. He used two backpacks covered with trash bags as pillows. He read the paper while he smoked a cigarette. He seemed quite relaxed. The guy was probably in his sixties. I observed that his left foot had a big gash in it. In fact, most of his left leg was swollen and discolored. I'm not sure if he was in pain. He certainly didn't seem like it. Yet, it was fairly obvious that he would need the whole leg amputated if he did not get it treated soon. He picked up his worldly possessions and left. He was clearly walking with a limp.
I felt a strong communion with the homeless today. After taking a shower in the gym, and spending over an hour sitting around Fort Street Mall, I realized that I was one of them. I am living the same life-style, although I am simply one echelon above them. I have a roof over my head at night. There have been unofficial estimates that 30,000 people or more are homeless here in Hawai'i. The "official" estimates are a lot less. I am inclined to believe the former over the latter. How can anyone count people who technically don't exist? The homeless crisis is a symptom of the unravelling of the so-called "fabric of society." It also reveals the artificial (read: superficial) nature of our existence.
Pseudo-professor Mike called and left a message. He put together an outing to Ward's Rafters for the afternoon. Ward's Rafters is a jazz club that has been the center of controversy because it is located in a large house in the middle of the Kaimuki residential area. I called Pseudo-professor Mike with the intention to decline his invitation. However, I thought about my day as it was currently unfolding. I would go to the gym, hang out in the student computer lab again, and return to Kapahulu by 6pm to vegetate with Rob in his place. I opted to join in the Ward's Rafters outing. Bea and Pseudo-professor Mike will be going. Bea's niece will also be there. Bea's niece lost her parents in the Tantalus shooting. I will be riding with them, along with Sandra, who works in the office that oversees the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. We will enjoy live jazz at Ward's Rafters for a couple of hours. Then, I will go to the gym after we return to town. I will most likely purchase a sandwich for dinner. Then, I will take the bus back to Kapahulu. This will be my escape from insanity for the day.
After Rob left, I vegetated. Earlier, I had tried to transfer funds to my local bank, but I was thwarted by my investment firm. I discovered that I could not transfer any more than $25,000 on-line. In addition, there is a five-day holding period. I almost lost my mind. I must have $51,400 in the bank by Tuesday afternoon. Naturally, the offices were closed. So, I will have to wait until Monday to see if I can straighten out this mess. The real problem is that the closing for the "condotel" unit is scheduled for Thursday. My level of stress increased by the minute. What I find interesting is my inability to access my dough. It's my dough, but the banks and financial institutions don't want me to access it. Why? The standard line is that these procedures are for my "protection," what with all the terrorism, drug money laundering, and identity theft. The bottom line is that the financial institutions have deliberately set up hurdles to prevent the investor from withdrawing any assets.
Why is the purchase of the "condotel" unit completely jinxed? That's the question I kept asking myself all day. Should I just renege on the deal and forfeit the $5,000 deposit in escrow? There is almost no question that the sequence of events is giving me a clue that the sale should not proceed. Either that, or the sinister kahuna is simply toying with the oversized cranium.
The bottom line is always money. Dinero. Cabbage. "Follow the money," we are always told when some kind of suspicious nonsense takes place. Life in modern society is all about money and possessions. We are both the perpetrators and the victims. Take a look at the sheer number of keys you must carry around, all to safeguard your possessions. Look at all the passwords and access codes you must remember. See how many alarms you must set. This is the worst kind of fear. The fear of losing all of your worldly possessions to the "Boogeyman." We live under the axiom, "If it ain't bolted down, it will be stolen." It boils down to the issue of greed and covetousness. Greed has become so all-pervasive that nothing can keep it in check anymore. The desire to amass more and more money and material possessions has become malignant. Frankly, I'm sick of it.
When Rob returned last night, we ended up driving to Foodland. I purchased a big-ass bottle of the "Hammer" (read: Corbett Canyon® Chardonnay). Rob and I polished off the bottle. We actually had a good time chatting all night. Rob is an okay guy when he's not in his protective shell. The problem is that he's always in his shell. He seems to dislike any kind of social context. If Internet Jon was not around, Rob would probably be in deep shit.
Rob was up very early this morning. He was on the computer by 7am. I was extremely groggy. I discovered that Rob takes naps in the afternoon, which is why he gets by on so little sleep at night. I do not have the luxury of naps, so I must survive on the little sleep that I've been getting. The combination of stress and booze is causing pains in my gut again. No doubt, my liver is giving out. The sinister kahuna is probably laughing its ass off as we speak.
I rode to Ala Moana Center with Rob. First, we stopped at McDonald's®. Rob ordered his breakfast. I purchased a big cup of coffee. We chatted for a while, but Rob had already descended back into the deep caverns of his protective shell. At Ala Moana Center, Rob was off on his shopping spree. I walked to the main bus stop. In a matter of minutes, I found myself downtown. I sat outside along Fort Street Mall on one of the benches. It was extremely hot. I decided to go to the gym and take a shower. After a nice shower, I purchased another big cup of coffee at the McDonald's® in town. I sat outside along Fort Street Mall near the Diploma Mill and drank my coffee. I observed an incredible number of homeless people walking about or sitting in various spots. One homeless guy sat just a few feet away from me. He used two backpacks covered with trash bags as pillows. He read the paper while he smoked a cigarette. He seemed quite relaxed. The guy was probably in his sixties. I observed that his left foot had a big gash in it. In fact, most of his left leg was swollen and discolored. I'm not sure if he was in pain. He certainly didn't seem like it. Yet, it was fairly obvious that he would need the whole leg amputated if he did not get it treated soon. He picked up his worldly possessions and left. He was clearly walking with a limp.
I felt a strong communion with the homeless today. After taking a shower in the gym, and spending over an hour sitting around Fort Street Mall, I realized that I was one of them. I am living the same life-style, although I am simply one echelon above them. I have a roof over my head at night. There have been unofficial estimates that 30,000 people or more are homeless here in Hawai'i. The "official" estimates are a lot less. I am inclined to believe the former over the latter. How can anyone count people who technically don't exist? The homeless crisis is a symptom of the unravelling of the so-called "fabric of society." It also reveals the artificial (read: superficial) nature of our existence.
Pseudo-professor Mike called and left a message. He put together an outing to Ward's Rafters for the afternoon. Ward's Rafters is a jazz club that has been the center of controversy because it is located in a large house in the middle of the Kaimuki residential area. I called Pseudo-professor Mike with the intention to decline his invitation. However, I thought about my day as it was currently unfolding. I would go to the gym, hang out in the student computer lab again, and return to Kapahulu by 6pm to vegetate with Rob in his place. I opted to join in the Ward's Rafters outing. Bea and Pseudo-professor Mike will be going. Bea's niece will also be there. Bea's niece lost her parents in the Tantalus shooting. I will be riding with them, along with Sandra, who works in the office that oversees the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. We will enjoy live jazz at Ward's Rafters for a couple of hours. Then, I will go to the gym after we return to town. I will most likely purchase a sandwich for dinner. Then, I will take the bus back to Kapahulu. This will be my escape from insanity for the day.
Saturday, July 29, 2006
Summer in the City
When I returned to Kapahulu yesterday, I discovered that Rob, the former IT guy at the Asylum, was home. We ended up going out to dinner at the Azteca Restaurant in Kaimuki. Allegedly, Azteca is a Mexican food joint. The food was bland and overpriced. Sadly, the $43 that I spent there would have afforded us a more elegant spread at Taco Bell®. We also managed to drop back a few Dos Equis® brewskis. The only excitement at the Azteca was the presence of the three young hotties at the table near the window.
Upon arriving back in Kapahulu, Rob changed into the casual wear that he's been donning for three days. He also neglected to take a shower, so he was smelling pretty ripe again. Rob mentioned that the house in Kalihi will not close this Sunday as expected. The land survey disclosed a few boundary discrepancies insofar as the neighbors' fences are concerned. Rob was also unsure of the status of the project that he and Internet Jon are working on. After three days in New York meeting with the client's attorneys, Internet Jon is still unable to produce any concrete information about the future of their business dealings. Whassup wi' dat? Rob then powered up the tube. Within a few minutes, he passed out in his chair. This seems to be his nightly ritual. When Rob woke up and went upstairs to his room, I was able to put the single sheet and pillow down on the floor that I use for a bed.
While Rob was passed out in his chair, I reviewed the copies of the documents that I had signed earlier in the afternoon. I will need to transfer $51,500 to my local bank account in order to draft a local check for escrow. The total cash outlay for the "condotel" unit will be $56,500 and some change. That's a lot of dough. My monthly payments will be $1,200 or so. When the property tax is reduced, the payment will be about $80 less per month. There will be no prepayment penalty for the mortgage. So far everything looks to be in order.
I also perused a copy of the property assessment. I found it quite interesting. When Chez Loser was assessed, the value was the same as the selling price. That's normally the procedure for these costly reports which required by lenders. In the case of the "condotel" unit, the assessment came in at $16,000 more than the selling price. Assessments are based upon the prices of comparable units in the same project or in the surrounding area.
I also neglected to mention that there were two clowns on the bus sitting across from me while I was on my way to Waikiki yesterday. They were both droppin' back a few brewskis. One of the clowns was talking rather loud. "The taxpayers paid for this beer," he proclaimed to his moronic buddy. They both laughed, all the while slapping their knees. The one clown went on to tell his buddy that he is on permanent disability, too. He is schizophrenic, he claimed, which I assumed was because of drug abuse. So, the taxpayers are paying his way for life as well. Of course, the Shrub administration has terminated over half of the IRS estate tax attorneys on staff. Thus, the amount of estate tax fraud involving the most affluent of society will go unchecked. In the meantime, the wage slaves will still be subjected to intense audits. It does not take a genius to see the sheer quantity of fraud occurring at the highest and lowest end of the income spectrum. Only the losers caught in between will be robbed blind. This is clearly a "get something for nothing" culture.
Rob was up quite early this morning. He's been sorting through a stack of neglected mail as well as setting up his main computer system on the dining table that Internet Jon had given him. Rob asked me about his shower. Apparently, he has not been able to take a hot shower. I had flipped on the circuit breakers for the water heater the other day, so I knew there was hot water. It turns out that Rob's shower has a uni-lever valve. Rob didn't realize that he had to turn the knob all the way to the left in order to increase the temperature of the water. I demonstrated to Rob how to use the valve.
Rob changed into the clothes that he's been wearing for over a week, the same ones he wore last night when we were out to dinner. Both his shirt and jeans are smelling so bad that he may just have to burn them. Rob is a very intelligent guy, mind you. However, he's been living as a computer nerd hermit for most of his life. He is totally unaware of the need for social graces. I'm afraid that it is not my place to inform him of these matters. Rob then measured his windows. His apartment is devoid of any curtains or blinds. Rob then closed up the place, which was the cue that it was time to leave. Fortunately, Rob gave me a ride to town. He was on his way to K-Mart® to shop for curtains.
I was able to drink my morning coffee, courtesy of the faculty support center at the Diploma Mill. Then, I ended up at the student computer lab. As you may have noticed, I am spending a lot of time in front of the computer. For the most part, I am either reading the alternative news sources or I am composing the "blog." Mind you, the "blog" has become a vital part of my homeless life. For example, the surf conditions on the South shore are excellent this week, ranging from 2-4 feet Hawai'ian scale. As you can guess, I will not be there. With my worldly possessions scattered in different locations, I am unable to live a "normal" live. I can only find refuge behind a computer in one of the Diploma Mill facilities. The "blog" is my only link to sanity, which is why I add to it daily. Very few people read the "blog." I've estimated the number to be ten readers at the most. Dialog on Speak! VI has been non-existent for weeks. I surmise that I will continue to append to the "blog" daily until I am settled in the "condotel" unit next week. In time, the additions to the "blog" will become more sporadic rather than periodic.
My ultimate goal is still my exodus from society. Homelessness, however, was not the answer. Homelessness is only viable when one has already made the exit from society. In other words, no lingering trace of wage slavery, no dependence on social systems of any kind, and independent wealth. As the "blog" continue, I must chronicle my eventual exit from society. My brief stint in homelessness has given me a true perspective of the vanity of most of my possessions as well as the detrimental effect of feeble, albeit costly, attempts to not part with the latter. The "condotel" experiment is the precursor to the semi-retired life-style. I will be living in a "vacation" environment year-round. I will live in a hotel room, just like the tourists. Part of being a tourist is the need to travel light. What I must do is adapt this transient life-style and make it second nature.
After an extended session in the student computer lab, I sat outside on Fort Street Mall to absorb some photon emissions. I pondered my new life in the "condotel" unit. On the weekends, I could walk to Kapi'olani Park with a beachchair, my lunch, and a book. I could also walk to the Waikiki branch of the gym. I could also take the bus to Ala Moana Beach Park to hang out. In fact, I could do all of that on any given day when I'm not engaged in wage slavery. No more commuting downtown and spending all day in front of the computer at the Diploma Mill. Pseudo-professor Mike saw me sitting on the bench daydreaming as he walked down Fort Street. He joined me for a few minutes. We had an interesting chat. Later, I went to the gym to do my usual cardio workout. I have decided that I must keep my gym membership as long as I can afford it. Right now, it is my most cost-effective expense. I go to the gym daily, rarely taking a day off. I also take my showers there, and I will continue to do so even after I move into the "condotel" unit.
I had a very relaxing afternoon. I walked back to the Diploma Mill after the gym and ended up back in the student computer lab. I felt much better after thinking about ways to enjoy my stay in Waikiki. I'll be in the lab until it closes at 5pm. Then, I will walk to Safeway® to buy some bagels and a sandwich. Pseudo-professor Mike invited me to dinner, but I declined. I will just return to Kapahulu and vegetate. Rob is allegedly attending a Bon Dance festival at the Okinawa Cultural Center sometime tonight.
While Rob was passed out in his chair, I reviewed the copies of the documents that I had signed earlier in the afternoon. I will need to transfer $51,500 to my local bank account in order to draft a local check for escrow. The total cash outlay for the "condotel" unit will be $56,500 and some change. That's a lot of dough. My monthly payments will be $1,200 or so. When the property tax is reduced, the payment will be about $80 less per month. There will be no prepayment penalty for the mortgage. So far everything looks to be in order.
I also perused a copy of the property assessment. I found it quite interesting. When Chez Loser was assessed, the value was the same as the selling price. That's normally the procedure for these costly reports which required by lenders. In the case of the "condotel" unit, the assessment came in at $16,000 more than the selling price. Assessments are based upon the prices of comparable units in the same project or in the surrounding area.
I also neglected to mention that there were two clowns on the bus sitting across from me while I was on my way to Waikiki yesterday. They were both droppin' back a few brewskis. One of the clowns was talking rather loud. "The taxpayers paid for this beer," he proclaimed to his moronic buddy. They both laughed, all the while slapping their knees. The one clown went on to tell his buddy that he is on permanent disability, too. He is schizophrenic, he claimed, which I assumed was because of drug abuse. So, the taxpayers are paying his way for life as well. Of course, the Shrub administration has terminated over half of the IRS estate tax attorneys on staff. Thus, the amount of estate tax fraud involving the most affluent of society will go unchecked. In the meantime, the wage slaves will still be subjected to intense audits. It does not take a genius to see the sheer quantity of fraud occurring at the highest and lowest end of the income spectrum. Only the losers caught in between will be robbed blind. This is clearly a "get something for nothing" culture.
Rob was up quite early this morning. He's been sorting through a stack of neglected mail as well as setting up his main computer system on the dining table that Internet Jon had given him. Rob asked me about his shower. Apparently, he has not been able to take a hot shower. I had flipped on the circuit breakers for the water heater the other day, so I knew there was hot water. It turns out that Rob's shower has a uni-lever valve. Rob didn't realize that he had to turn the knob all the way to the left in order to increase the temperature of the water. I demonstrated to Rob how to use the valve.
Rob changed into the clothes that he's been wearing for over a week, the same ones he wore last night when we were out to dinner. Both his shirt and jeans are smelling so bad that he may just have to burn them. Rob is a very intelligent guy, mind you. However, he's been living as a computer nerd hermit for most of his life. He is totally unaware of the need for social graces. I'm afraid that it is not my place to inform him of these matters. Rob then measured his windows. His apartment is devoid of any curtains or blinds. Rob then closed up the place, which was the cue that it was time to leave. Fortunately, Rob gave me a ride to town. He was on his way to K-Mart® to shop for curtains.
I was able to drink my morning coffee, courtesy of the faculty support center at the Diploma Mill. Then, I ended up at the student computer lab. As you may have noticed, I am spending a lot of time in front of the computer. For the most part, I am either reading the alternative news sources or I am composing the "blog." Mind you, the "blog" has become a vital part of my homeless life. For example, the surf conditions on the South shore are excellent this week, ranging from 2-4 feet Hawai'ian scale. As you can guess, I will not be there. With my worldly possessions scattered in different locations, I am unable to live a "normal" live. I can only find refuge behind a computer in one of the Diploma Mill facilities. The "blog" is my only link to sanity, which is why I add to it daily. Very few people read the "blog." I've estimated the number to be ten readers at the most. Dialog on Speak! VI has been non-existent for weeks. I surmise that I will continue to append to the "blog" daily until I am settled in the "condotel" unit next week. In time, the additions to the "blog" will become more sporadic rather than periodic.
My ultimate goal is still my exodus from society. Homelessness, however, was not the answer. Homelessness is only viable when one has already made the exit from society. In other words, no lingering trace of wage slavery, no dependence on social systems of any kind, and independent wealth. As the "blog" continue, I must chronicle my eventual exit from society. My brief stint in homelessness has given me a true perspective of the vanity of most of my possessions as well as the detrimental effect of feeble, albeit costly, attempts to not part with the latter. The "condotel" experiment is the precursor to the semi-retired life-style. I will be living in a "vacation" environment year-round. I will live in a hotel room, just like the tourists. Part of being a tourist is the need to travel light. What I must do is adapt this transient life-style and make it second nature.
After an extended session in the student computer lab, I sat outside on Fort Street Mall to absorb some photon emissions. I pondered my new life in the "condotel" unit. On the weekends, I could walk to Kapi'olani Park with a beachchair, my lunch, and a book. I could also walk to the Waikiki branch of the gym. I could also take the bus to Ala Moana Beach Park to hang out. In fact, I could do all of that on any given day when I'm not engaged in wage slavery. No more commuting downtown and spending all day in front of the computer at the Diploma Mill. Pseudo-professor Mike saw me sitting on the bench daydreaming as he walked down Fort Street. He joined me for a few minutes. We had an interesting chat. Later, I went to the gym to do my usual cardio workout. I have decided that I must keep my gym membership as long as I can afford it. Right now, it is my most cost-effective expense. I go to the gym daily, rarely taking a day off. I also take my showers there, and I will continue to do so even after I move into the "condotel" unit.
I had a very relaxing afternoon. I walked back to the Diploma Mill after the gym and ended up back in the student computer lab. I felt much better after thinking about ways to enjoy my stay in Waikiki. I'll be in the lab until it closes at 5pm. Then, I will walk to Safeway® to buy some bagels and a sandwich. Pseudo-professor Mike invited me to dinner, but I declined. I will just return to Kapahulu and vegetate. Rob is allegedly attending a Bon Dance festival at the Okinawa Cultural Center sometime tonight.
Friday, July 28, 2006
Slummin' wi' da Moneychangers
After my exciting meal from Taco Bell®, I caught the bus back to Kapahulu. Rob, the former IT guy at the Asylum, was already home. He was smelling pretty ripe. I joined him for a quick jaunt to Wal-Mart®. I'm not particularly fond of Wal-Mart. However, it's easy to see why the dump gets away with shabby business practices. The whole store was filled with cattle, pushing and shoving each other just to get at some supposed deals. The stupid part is that those "deals" are everyday prices. Rob was looking specifically for a bathtub mat. Therefore, there was hope that he was going to take a shower in the near future. Rob purchased the bright blue bathtub mat. Rob then purchased a rip-off plate lunch at the L&L Hawai'ian Barbeque concession. We drove back to Rob's place. As he ate his dinner, he played with his new Motorola® RAZR cell phone. He now has a two-year contract with Cingular®. He chose Cingular® because Internet Jon is a subscriber. That way, Rob and Internet Jon can talk to each other for free. Rob called Pam, his realtor (and Internet Jon's alleged business partner), with his new phone. I had to show Rob how to make the call. At about 10pm, Rob took a shower. Yeah! The sad part is that he really needs to do his laundry. He wore the same clothes, so the stench was still as potent as before. With the tube blaring in the background, Rob fell asleep in the chair in the living room. I tried to wake him up, but to no avail. I reviewed my condo documents again. Rob finally woke up at 11pm and formally went to his room to sleep.
This morning, Rob was up before 7am. He unpacked a few more things. He wore the same clothes from yesterday. Internet Jon called him. Apparently, Internet Jon is back from New York, where he allegedly finalized the deal for the project that he and Rob have been working on. I asked Rob about the specifics. Rob said that Internet Jon was meeting him at his old place to give him the details. Rob then gave me a ride to town on his way to Kalihi.
I ended up in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. Pseudo-professor Mike walked in shortly afterward. Incidentally, he had called yesterday and left a message that there was a small package for me in the refrigerator in the faculty computer room. I discovered that it was a small container of fried rice, which I was eating when Pseudo-professor Mike walked in. I thanked him for the delicious treat. At 10:30am, I decided to go to Waikiki to pay for the August parking pass for my truck. I had to withdraw $80 from my local bank. After arriving at the Waikiki Banyan, I walked up the steps to the fifth floor, where my truck is parked. The elevators were completely packed. I had to retrieve my registration documents. Then, I was able to take the elevator back down. I found the administrative office and paid the fee. I was giving a parking pass. Fortunately, I was able to use the elevator to get back to my truck. When I finally returned to the Diploma Mill, I discovered that the trip had taken me over two hours.
While I was riding the bus to and from Waikiki, I engaged in deep thought about my situation. I evaluated the amount of time and money that I waste on a daily basis for absolutely no useful end. The sheer benign nature of my life became clearly evident. What is even more ludicrous is that my truck is in Waikiki, my worldly possessions are in storage near the airport, and I am staying in Kapahulu. My truck and worldly possessions are costing me $148 per month. Only in my current homeless state was I able to see the folly of my situation. And, even given how ludicrous that sounds, it certainly hasn't prevented me from entertaining ideas of purchasing a new computer or a Palm® PDA. I must stay the course with my plans to divest my useless possessions. And, I cannot amass more crap in the interim.
I was happy to be able to go to the gym. Yet, deep down inside, I keep wondering if I can maintain a fitness program without spending $36 per month for a gym membership. As a senior citizen, do I really need to workout at a gym that is tailored for the younger crowd?
At 4pm, I rushed from the gym to Old Republic for the official signing. Connie, the escrow officer, had a stack of paperwork to sign. She is also going to provide me with the form to change the tax status of the "condotel" unit, although it won't take effect until next September. Debbie, my realtor, was also there. And, Brenda also had a stack of loan papers to sign. "I'll see you in two years," I said, after everything was signed. Closing is scheduled for August 3rd, but it may be sooner if the paperwork from the sellers arrive early.
I walked back to the Diploma Mill after I signed my life away. I stopped off at Taco Bell® and purchased two bean burritos with the green sauce. No red sauce. That was my celebration. I ate my wonderful dinner in the faculty computer room by myself. Well, hey! I'm livin' large in a small way!
At 6pm, I'll return to Kapahulu for another exciting evening. Perhaps Rob will have some interesting stories. Perhaps not. In a few days, I'll be leaving Kapahulu and moving on to Waikiki. Incidentally, I can see the Aloha Surf Hotel from Rob's place along Date Street. The Ala Wai Canal runs parallel to Date Street. Thus, the Aloha Surf Hotel is directly across the canal from where Rob lives.
This morning, Rob was up before 7am. He unpacked a few more things. He wore the same clothes from yesterday. Internet Jon called him. Apparently, Internet Jon is back from New York, where he allegedly finalized the deal for the project that he and Rob have been working on. I asked Rob about the specifics. Rob said that Internet Jon was meeting him at his old place to give him the details. Rob then gave me a ride to town on his way to Kalihi.
I ended up in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. Pseudo-professor Mike walked in shortly afterward. Incidentally, he had called yesterday and left a message that there was a small package for me in the refrigerator in the faculty computer room. I discovered that it was a small container of fried rice, which I was eating when Pseudo-professor Mike walked in. I thanked him for the delicious treat. At 10:30am, I decided to go to Waikiki to pay for the August parking pass for my truck. I had to withdraw $80 from my local bank. After arriving at the Waikiki Banyan, I walked up the steps to the fifth floor, where my truck is parked. The elevators were completely packed. I had to retrieve my registration documents. Then, I was able to take the elevator back down. I found the administrative office and paid the fee. I was giving a parking pass. Fortunately, I was able to use the elevator to get back to my truck. When I finally returned to the Diploma Mill, I discovered that the trip had taken me over two hours.
While I was riding the bus to and from Waikiki, I engaged in deep thought about my situation. I evaluated the amount of time and money that I waste on a daily basis for absolutely no useful end. The sheer benign nature of my life became clearly evident. What is even more ludicrous is that my truck is in Waikiki, my worldly possessions are in storage near the airport, and I am staying in Kapahulu. My truck and worldly possessions are costing me $148 per month. Only in my current homeless state was I able to see the folly of my situation. And, even given how ludicrous that sounds, it certainly hasn't prevented me from entertaining ideas of purchasing a new computer or a Palm® PDA. I must stay the course with my plans to divest my useless possessions. And, I cannot amass more crap in the interim.
I was happy to be able to go to the gym. Yet, deep down inside, I keep wondering if I can maintain a fitness program without spending $36 per month for a gym membership. As a senior citizen, do I really need to workout at a gym that is tailored for the younger crowd?
At 4pm, I rushed from the gym to Old Republic for the official signing. Connie, the escrow officer, had a stack of paperwork to sign. She is also going to provide me with the form to change the tax status of the "condotel" unit, although it won't take effect until next September. Debbie, my realtor, was also there. And, Brenda also had a stack of loan papers to sign. "I'll see you in two years," I said, after everything was signed. Closing is scheduled for August 3rd, but it may be sooner if the paperwork from the sellers arrive early.
I walked back to the Diploma Mill after I signed my life away. I stopped off at Taco Bell® and purchased two bean burritos with the green sauce. No red sauce. That was my celebration. I ate my wonderful dinner in the faculty computer room by myself. Well, hey! I'm livin' large in a small way!
At 6pm, I'll return to Kapahulu for another exciting evening. Perhaps Rob will have some interesting stories. Perhaps not. In a few days, I'll be leaving Kapahulu and moving on to Waikiki. Incidentally, I can see the Aloha Surf Hotel from Rob's place along Date Street. The Ala Wai Canal runs parallel to Date Street. Thus, the Aloha Surf Hotel is directly across the canal from where Rob lives.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Algorithm of a Controlled Life
Yesterday, I purchased a big-ass $9 sandwich from Safeway®. I ate most of it in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill before heading back to Kapahulu. The sandwich was marginal. Upon arriving in Kapahulu, I saw Rob, the former IT guy at the Asylum, unloading his stuff. I helped him move his things into the apartment. He looked fatigued. He also smelled like a homeless derelict. We dropped back a couple of brewskis. Rob piddled around with his stuff for a bit and went to sleep. I am not certain if he is aware that he is emitting an offensive odor. From what I can tell, he hasn't taken a shower since sometime before I commenced my stay at his place.
Rob has about three carloads of stuff to move. I was amazed at the amount of crap that he owns. The surprising part is that he doesn't own much in the way of furniture. If Internet Jon had not given him a table and two chairs, we would have been sitting on the floor in the living room. Most of Rob's stuff is computer-related. The move is going to cost Rob a lot more dough than he imagined. He had to pay overtime to the trash removal guys because he found more junk that needed to be hauled off. Rob had also disclosed that he is in a one-year lease because Internet Jon allegedly had not passed on the correct information. Rob only wanted a six-month lease. Frankly, I have no idea how Rob will survive unless Internet Jon's project is funded.
This morning, Rob woke up at 6am. He had to meet with the rest of his siblings and family members and with the realtor at Kahala Mall to sign documents involving the property. He did not take a shower. I discovered that Rob's washer is not functioning, so I washed my clothes in Rob's kitchen sink. Fortunately, his dryer is operational, so I was able to dry my clothes and depart for town at 9:30am.
I received e-mail from Debbie, my realtor. She sent the preliminary HUD-1 statement from the escrow service. Thus, I will know the amount to transfer to my bank for closing. The "condotel" property tax has become an issue. The tax is about $120 because of the incredible jump in property taxes taking effect this month. There was a similar jump in taxes for Chez Loser as you may recall. In addition, the unit has been in the hotel pool, so it is being taxed as a lodging unit. The taxes are three times more than what was stated in the listing. Debbie is trying to negotiate with the sellers such that they would pay the difference for six months. What I must do is change the status of the "condotel" unit. As a residential unit, it will qualify for the homeowner's exemption, which should lower the taxes. However, that will not take effect until next year.
As I mentioned before, the "condotel" deal is jinxed. I read the condo documents again last night. I found that the foundation retrofit was completed to specification. The condo association is also bidding on the repair of the concrete spalling problem. It seems that much of the funding is coming from the original developer, CP Aloha Surf LLC. This is a blessing because special assessments would have been necessary to fund the repairs. Oddly, the Web site for CP Aloha Surf LLC and parent company, Carmel Partners (San Francisco), have both mysteriously disappeared.
Rob and I are making the painful discovery that the cost of living for both of us respectively has gone up well beyond what we expected. For just rent and utilities, Rob will be paying our about $1,500 per month. My mortgage including maintenance fee and property tax will be close to $1,300 per month. Incidentally, there was no way that I could have roomed with Rob. His stuff takes up most of the apartment. Hence, I would have paid half the rent to live in one small room with no parking for the truck. There is also no way that I could tolerate the smell of someone who refuses to take a shower for days. Would I have been better off staying in Chez Loser? No, absolutely not. The increase in property taxes would have brought my monthly outlay including utilities to well over $1,700 per month.
The "condotel" unit is still the most viable option. With the remaining money from the sale of Chez Loser (after the down payment on the "condotel" unit), I will have bought some additional time. My investment income should be able to cover the slack. If I reach the threshold that I established the other day, I will put the unit back in the hotel pool and find another place to live. I will also put the unit up for sale immediately. Should I have just rented another place? I still believe that I am better off with the purchase of the "condotel" unit.
At this point in time, It is best to delineate my general plan. As I've stated before, I will remain in Hawai'i as long as moms is around. How long will moms be around? Who is to say? My estimate is around ten years. Thus, I must plan to live in Hawai'i for ten years. During that time, I must be able to backtrack and divest any superfluous possessions. Once moms is gone, I must be ready to leave instantly. Vanish without a trace. Even if I did not move out of Hawai'i right away, I must plan for the emotional devastation from the resulting loss. Certainly I will not be in any position to exact the divestiture of my useless possessions then. So, the time is now.
I ate the remainder of the crummy Safeway® sandwich for lunch. Then, I did my short stint of wage slavery before going to the gym. As each day passes, I become more cognizant of the fact that I am one of the stupid cattle whom I despise. No matter what I try to do to escape, I am thwarted at every turn. The intricacies of the cattle conversion process are so tedious that resistance is nearly futile. The cattle conversion algorithm is quite sensitive to any attempt to break out of the control loop. I am currently in a process (read: homelessness) that circumvents the loop, but I am quickly being brought back in by yet another algorithm. The only way to truly escape is by introducing a "virus" to the program or to disable the central processing unit. In other words, either disable the "software" or disable the "hardware." This will be the next chapter in my adventures.
Well, I have had my fill of sandwiches. So, I sashayed over to Taco Bell® for dinner. Three bean burritos with the green sauce. No red sauce. I ate my hearty meal back in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. I'll return to Kapahulu for another exciting evening. I sure hope that Rob finally decides to take a shower. Sheesh!
Rob has about three carloads of stuff to move. I was amazed at the amount of crap that he owns. The surprising part is that he doesn't own much in the way of furniture. If Internet Jon had not given him a table and two chairs, we would have been sitting on the floor in the living room. Most of Rob's stuff is computer-related. The move is going to cost Rob a lot more dough than he imagined. He had to pay overtime to the trash removal guys because he found more junk that needed to be hauled off. Rob had also disclosed that he is in a one-year lease because Internet Jon allegedly had not passed on the correct information. Rob only wanted a six-month lease. Frankly, I have no idea how Rob will survive unless Internet Jon's project is funded.
This morning, Rob woke up at 6am. He had to meet with the rest of his siblings and family members and with the realtor at Kahala Mall to sign documents involving the property. He did not take a shower. I discovered that Rob's washer is not functioning, so I washed my clothes in Rob's kitchen sink. Fortunately, his dryer is operational, so I was able to dry my clothes and depart for town at 9:30am.
I received e-mail from Debbie, my realtor. She sent the preliminary HUD-1 statement from the escrow service. Thus, I will know the amount to transfer to my bank for closing. The "condotel" property tax has become an issue. The tax is about $120 because of the incredible jump in property taxes taking effect this month. There was a similar jump in taxes for Chez Loser as you may recall. In addition, the unit has been in the hotel pool, so it is being taxed as a lodging unit. The taxes are three times more than what was stated in the listing. Debbie is trying to negotiate with the sellers such that they would pay the difference for six months. What I must do is change the status of the "condotel" unit. As a residential unit, it will qualify for the homeowner's exemption, which should lower the taxes. However, that will not take effect until next year.
As I mentioned before, the "condotel" deal is jinxed. I read the condo documents again last night. I found that the foundation retrofit was completed to specification. The condo association is also bidding on the repair of the concrete spalling problem. It seems that much of the funding is coming from the original developer, CP Aloha Surf LLC. This is a blessing because special assessments would have been necessary to fund the repairs. Oddly, the Web site for CP Aloha Surf LLC and parent company, Carmel Partners (San Francisco), have both mysteriously disappeared.
Rob and I are making the painful discovery that the cost of living for both of us respectively has gone up well beyond what we expected. For just rent and utilities, Rob will be paying our about $1,500 per month. My mortgage including maintenance fee and property tax will be close to $1,300 per month. Incidentally, there was no way that I could have roomed with Rob. His stuff takes up most of the apartment. Hence, I would have paid half the rent to live in one small room with no parking for the truck. There is also no way that I could tolerate the smell of someone who refuses to take a shower for days. Would I have been better off staying in Chez Loser? No, absolutely not. The increase in property taxes would have brought my monthly outlay including utilities to well over $1,700 per month.
The "condotel" unit is still the most viable option. With the remaining money from the sale of Chez Loser (after the down payment on the "condotel" unit), I will have bought some additional time. My investment income should be able to cover the slack. If I reach the threshold that I established the other day, I will put the unit back in the hotel pool and find another place to live. I will also put the unit up for sale immediately. Should I have just rented another place? I still believe that I am better off with the purchase of the "condotel" unit.
At this point in time, It is best to delineate my general plan. As I've stated before, I will remain in Hawai'i as long as moms is around. How long will moms be around? Who is to say? My estimate is around ten years. Thus, I must plan to live in Hawai'i for ten years. During that time, I must be able to backtrack and divest any superfluous possessions. Once moms is gone, I must be ready to leave instantly. Vanish without a trace. Even if I did not move out of Hawai'i right away, I must plan for the emotional devastation from the resulting loss. Certainly I will not be in any position to exact the divestiture of my useless possessions then. So, the time is now.
I ate the remainder of the crummy Safeway® sandwich for lunch. Then, I did my short stint of wage slavery before going to the gym. As each day passes, I become more cognizant of the fact that I am one of the stupid cattle whom I despise. No matter what I try to do to escape, I am thwarted at every turn. The intricacies of the cattle conversion process are so tedious that resistance is nearly futile. The cattle conversion algorithm is quite sensitive to any attempt to break out of the control loop. I am currently in a process (read: homelessness) that circumvents the loop, but I am quickly being brought back in by yet another algorithm. The only way to truly escape is by introducing a "virus" to the program or to disable the central processing unit. In other words, either disable the "software" or disable the "hardware." This will be the next chapter in my adventures.
Well, I have had my fill of sandwiches. So, I sashayed over to Taco Bell® for dinner. Three bean burritos with the green sauce. No red sauce. I ate my hearty meal back in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. I'll return to Kapahulu for another exciting evening. I sure hope that Rob finally decides to take a shower. Sheesh!
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Without a Trace
Last night, I bought a plain sandwich at the Pali Safeway® and ate it in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. The $4 sandwich was pathetically small, which made me me reflect on how pathetic this whole homeless situation really is. The bus ride back to Kapahulu was uneventful and fairly quick. Rob, the former IT guy at the Asylum, arrived a short time after me. He had spent the whole day coordinating the trash removal at his old place. He looked really fatigued. I helped him unload his stuff. We dropped back a couple of brewskis. Then, Rob made another trip to Kalihi. I reviewed the condo documents again. Rob returned in about an hour with more stuff. For the rest of the evening, we sat around and chatted while the tube blared in the background.
Rob and I also chatted about the babe situation, primarily about Pam, his realtor. Pam is actually a friend and alleged business partner of Internet Jon. Pam, like Internet Jon, lives at home with her parents. My guess is that Pam is somehow interested in Internet Jon. I suggested that Rob hit on Pam. Rob admitted that he's never been in a relationship with a babe. He attributes the latter to a "low drive" due to a congenital defect. Frankly, I am more inclined to believe that both Rob and Internet Jon are intimidated by babes. They are both advanced in age and most likely neither have ever done da wild thing with any babes. Thus, they have resigned themselves to the monk life-style.
One really has to wonder, though, about the benign existence that most of us live. Subjected daily to petty levels of idiotic thinking, we are totally insulated from the grief that strikes the rest of the world. I am not comfortable in knowing that even my meager consumption patterns are adding to the collective inertia which is determining the fate of the hapless millions of victims abroad. All day long, I encounter self-centered morons who continue to grasp at straws to find anything to bolster their importance at the expense of others. I deal with meatheads who seem to have suffered from some kind of testosterone overload. Then, there are the myriad fat skanks running amuck with their quasi-feminist-induced hysteria. Only with shopping bags in hand are these sycophants of stupidity placated. These are the reasons why I seek isolation and seclusion.
This morning, Rob gave me a ride to town. He was heading back to Kalihi to complete the trash removal at his old place. I ended up at the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. Debbie, my realtor, called and left a message. The signing of the paperwork has been postponed until Friday. Actual closing for the "condotel" unit is scheduled for August 3rd.
Essentially, I spent all day in front of the computer. I ran a couple of brief errands, but there was not much else for me to do. I have reached my goal of semi-retirement, or so it seems. Now, I will have to backtrack and undo the expensive mess that I have created in order to get here. Not an easy task. I must rid myself of anything not necessary for survival that has created a steady outflow of money. Again, not an easy task. Ignoring these issues is not an option anymore. The day may come when I will have to disappear without a trace. I will have to move quickly and stealthily.
I went to the gym, as usual. My workouts are becoming more tiresome by the day. It seems that I am losing my desire to stay in shape. Nonetheless, I will force myself to continue. If I stop working out, I will surely turn into a fat slob with mucho health problems. After the gym, I spent more time in the faculty computer room. I will eventually have to go somewhere to purchase my dinner. Then, I will catch the bus back to Kapahulu. No doubt, I'll spend the evening chatting with Rob with the tube blaring in the background. Rob does not intend to get a cable subscription. The reception of local channels is marginal at best. The picture quality suffers from severe ghosting. The only good news is that Roselyn Sanchez stars in the lame series, "Without a Trace." What a hottie!
Rob and I also chatted about the babe situation, primarily about Pam, his realtor. Pam is actually a friend and alleged business partner of Internet Jon. Pam, like Internet Jon, lives at home with her parents. My guess is that Pam is somehow interested in Internet Jon. I suggested that Rob hit on Pam. Rob admitted that he's never been in a relationship with a babe. He attributes the latter to a "low drive" due to a congenital defect. Frankly, I am more inclined to believe that both Rob and Internet Jon are intimidated by babes. They are both advanced in age and most likely neither have ever done da wild thing with any babes. Thus, they have resigned themselves to the monk life-style.
One really has to wonder, though, about the benign existence that most of us live. Subjected daily to petty levels of idiotic thinking, we are totally insulated from the grief that strikes the rest of the world. I am not comfortable in knowing that even my meager consumption patterns are adding to the collective inertia which is determining the fate of the hapless millions of victims abroad. All day long, I encounter self-centered morons who continue to grasp at straws to find anything to bolster their importance at the expense of others. I deal with meatheads who seem to have suffered from some kind of testosterone overload. Then, there are the myriad fat skanks running amuck with their quasi-feminist-induced hysteria. Only with shopping bags in hand are these sycophants of stupidity placated. These are the reasons why I seek isolation and seclusion.
This morning, Rob gave me a ride to town. He was heading back to Kalihi to complete the trash removal at his old place. I ended up at the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. Debbie, my realtor, called and left a message. The signing of the paperwork has been postponed until Friday. Actual closing for the "condotel" unit is scheduled for August 3rd.
Essentially, I spent all day in front of the computer. I ran a couple of brief errands, but there was not much else for me to do. I have reached my goal of semi-retirement, or so it seems. Now, I will have to backtrack and undo the expensive mess that I have created in order to get here. Not an easy task. I must rid myself of anything not necessary for survival that has created a steady outflow of money. Again, not an easy task. Ignoring these issues is not an option anymore. The day may come when I will have to disappear without a trace. I will have to move quickly and stealthily.
I went to the gym, as usual. My workouts are becoming more tiresome by the day. It seems that I am losing my desire to stay in shape. Nonetheless, I will force myself to continue. If I stop working out, I will surely turn into a fat slob with mucho health problems. After the gym, I spent more time in the faculty computer room. I will eventually have to go somewhere to purchase my dinner. Then, I will catch the bus back to Kapahulu. No doubt, I'll spend the evening chatting with Rob with the tube blaring in the background. Rob does not intend to get a cable subscription. The reception of local channels is marginal at best. The picture quality suffers from severe ghosting. The only good news is that Roselyn Sanchez stars in the lame series, "Without a Trace." What a hottie!
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
A Sandwich is Just a Sandwich
The sinister kahuna was apparently working overtime yesterday. I called Debbie, my realtor, late in the afternoon. She said that she had just retrieved the condo docs from Brenda at Bank of Hawai'i. I arranged to meet Debbie at Kahala Mall since my truck was parked there. The bus ride was actually quite pleasant considering it was rush hour. I bought a few items at Star Market. Then, I met with Debbie. She handed me a huge package of documents. I told Debbie that the homeless situation was taking a toll on me. She said that she would try to expedite closing.
I stopped off at the Market City Foodland to purchase a 12-pack of Pyramid® Hefe Weizen brewskis. I dropped the 12-pack on the floor while I was walking to the check-out stand. Beer was flowing all over the place. I looked like a moron. Fortunately, I was not charged for my stupidity. I finally made it back to Rob's place. I ate the sandwich that I bought at Star Market and washed it all down with a brewski. I decided to peruse the lengthy condo documents. What I discovered was most alarming. The Aloha Surf Hotel is considered a "dangerous building." Apparently, it is not structurally sound at certain foundation points. Waikiki used to be one big swamp. The Ala Wai Canal was created to drain off the marshes. However, buildings had to constructed on concrete piles. The piles under a portion of the Aloha Surf Hotel are apparently inadequate. The engineer's report stated that an earthquake or severe wind conditions may cause the building to collapse. A retrofit was completed last year using micropiles. Currently, the building now meets 1961 (UBC) codes, but will still not pass some of the 1998 codes. There's also a spalling problem, although the extent of the spalling damage is yet to be determined. Spalling is a common problem afflicting concrete structures in Hawai'i, primarily because of the high degree of moisture. However, quite a few buildings in Waikiki are in a similar dilemma. I had to drop back quite a few brewskis after reading the report.
I am still planning to go through with the purchase of the "condotel" unit, even though I will be living in a building that could collapse at any time. The engineer's report also stated that there was no apparent structural damage even at the alleged weak points. My revised plan is to reside in the "condotel" for about 10 years. I should break even at that point. In other words, I would have paid the same amount in rent and the latter would be equivalent to the amount that I am purchasing the place for. After the ten years, I am not sure what I will do. Will I be able to sell the "condotel" unit? Will the Aloha Surf Hotel still be standing? I don't know.
I woke up fairly early this morning, although I was not feeling to well. The brewskis were having their revenge. The cold has not gotten any better. After eating a light breakfast (read: one blueberry muffin), I drove the truck to Waikiki. I paid the $40 fee for a one-week parking pass at the Waikiki Banyan. I will have to return on July 31st to purchase the monthly pass for August. I then caught a bus to town. I ended up in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. I received an e-mail from Debbie. She said that Brenda has completed the loan package. We are scheduled to meet sometime tomorrow to sign the paperwork.
After putting in time at wage slavery, I went to the gym. Even working out at the gym has become meaningless. Sometimes I wonder why I just don't quit and become a fat slob like everyone else. I walked directly to Safeway® to purchase another sandwich. I am beginning to wonder if I can get a better deal at Subway®. I spent a little more time in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. At 6pm, I departed for Kapahulu on the Route 3 bus. I'll probably spend all evening reading the condo docs again. No doubt, I'll drop back the rest of the brewskis. I can only dream of the day that I will be free from this madness.
The Future. I am not at all certain what the future holds for me. However, I am certain that I cannot continue to live in the manner that I am accustomed to. I certainly hope that I have learned a real lesson from my time of homelessness. Being detached from most of my useless possessions, I've come to realize how little I need them. However, the cost of returning to real poverty are much more than I anticipated. I am not simply talking about the losses of divesting my current possessions.
Whether I choose to believe it or not, I will have to seek out a cheaper place to live. Costa Rica? Belize? I don't know. Without actually visiting any of those places, how would I know? My ideal life-style would be to live in tropical seclusion, preferably near a nice beach with adequate waves. I've been putting off any further consideration because I will be here in Hawai'i as long as moms is around. What I have failed to realize is that the time to start planning is already here. I must establish viable contingency plans now.
I stopped off at the Market City Foodland to purchase a 12-pack of Pyramid® Hefe Weizen brewskis. I dropped the 12-pack on the floor while I was walking to the check-out stand. Beer was flowing all over the place. I looked like a moron. Fortunately, I was not charged for my stupidity. I finally made it back to Rob's place. I ate the sandwich that I bought at Star Market and washed it all down with a brewski. I decided to peruse the lengthy condo documents. What I discovered was most alarming. The Aloha Surf Hotel is considered a "dangerous building." Apparently, it is not structurally sound at certain foundation points. Waikiki used to be one big swamp. The Ala Wai Canal was created to drain off the marshes. However, buildings had to constructed on concrete piles. The piles under a portion of the Aloha Surf Hotel are apparently inadequate. The engineer's report stated that an earthquake or severe wind conditions may cause the building to collapse. A retrofit was completed last year using micropiles. Currently, the building now meets 1961 (UBC) codes, but will still not pass some of the 1998 codes. There's also a spalling problem, although the extent of the spalling damage is yet to be determined. Spalling is a common problem afflicting concrete structures in Hawai'i, primarily because of the high degree of moisture. However, quite a few buildings in Waikiki are in a similar dilemma. I had to drop back quite a few brewskis after reading the report.
I am still planning to go through with the purchase of the "condotel" unit, even though I will be living in a building that could collapse at any time. The engineer's report also stated that there was no apparent structural damage even at the alleged weak points. My revised plan is to reside in the "condotel" for about 10 years. I should break even at that point. In other words, I would have paid the same amount in rent and the latter would be equivalent to the amount that I am purchasing the place for. After the ten years, I am not sure what I will do. Will I be able to sell the "condotel" unit? Will the Aloha Surf Hotel still be standing? I don't know.
I woke up fairly early this morning, although I was not feeling to well. The brewskis were having their revenge. The cold has not gotten any better. After eating a light breakfast (read: one blueberry muffin), I drove the truck to Waikiki. I paid the $40 fee for a one-week parking pass at the Waikiki Banyan. I will have to return on July 31st to purchase the monthly pass for August. I then caught a bus to town. I ended up in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. I received an e-mail from Debbie. She said that Brenda has completed the loan package. We are scheduled to meet sometime tomorrow to sign the paperwork.
After putting in time at wage slavery, I went to the gym. Even working out at the gym has become meaningless. Sometimes I wonder why I just don't quit and become a fat slob like everyone else. I walked directly to Safeway® to purchase another sandwich. I am beginning to wonder if I can get a better deal at Subway®. I spent a little more time in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. At 6pm, I departed for Kapahulu on the Route 3 bus. I'll probably spend all evening reading the condo docs again. No doubt, I'll drop back the rest of the brewskis. I can only dream of the day that I will be free from this madness.
The Future. I am not at all certain what the future holds for me. However, I am certain that I cannot continue to live in the manner that I am accustomed to. I certainly hope that I have learned a real lesson from my time of homelessness. Being detached from most of my useless possessions, I've come to realize how little I need them. However, the cost of returning to real poverty are much more than I anticipated. I am not simply talking about the losses of divesting my current possessions.
Whether I choose to believe it or not, I will have to seek out a cheaper place to live. Costa Rica? Belize? I don't know. Without actually visiting any of those places, how would I know? My ideal life-style would be to live in tropical seclusion, preferably near a nice beach with adequate waves. I've been putting off any further consideration because I will be here in Hawai'i as long as moms is around. What I have failed to realize is that the time to start planning is already here. I must establish viable contingency plans now.
Monday, July 24, 2006
Cattle Drive
Last night, I slept downstairs in Rob's apartment. It was a little cooler, so I slept better. I am still battling the cold that I had inherited from Pseudo-professor Mike. I am almost convinced that it something worse than a simple cold. Just I was departing, Rob drove up. I helped him unload his stuff, then I left.
I drove to Kahala Mall. I drank my morning coffee at Barnes & Noble®. I perused a few more surfing magazines. It is interesting how the surfing life-style has become quite mainstream. Long ago, the surfing life-style was a simple carefree one. Now, it's a big money industry and the life-style is far from simple or cheap. In fact, most surf gear is extremely expensive. As for me, I don't profess to be a "surfer," nor do I call myself one. I just go out surfing when I can. That's it.
I met moms just outside the mall at 10:45am. We ate lunch at Panda Express® as usual. It seems that the crisis of last week has abated once the Ninja Turds realized that I wasn't storing any of my stuff in their home. Yes, I have resurrected the moniker, "Ninja Turds," once again. I sat with moms at the bus stop. When moms boarded her bus, I departed for town. However, I left my truck at Kahala Mall. When I arrived in town, I found myself caught in a moronic cattle drive (read: pedestrian traffic). The idiots kept getting in way, totally oblivious to the fact that I was trying to maneuver around them. "Stupid fucking cattle," I said to myself. An ugly old hag next to me decided to butt in and give me a piece of her mind. I've seen the ho' around. She tries to dress like she's a young hottie. Get real, skank! You're pushing sixty. Put on an old school marm outfit and spare yourself the embarrassment. Sheesh! "Aww shadddup," I responded.
The rest of the day was uneventful. I spent 30 minutes shredding the old Chez Loser documents. The shredder jammed several times. I was really on the verge of losing it at one point. In fact, I thought that I was going to explode in a homicidal rage. I am at wit's end because I have just completed five weeks of homelessness. Yes, this is the start of my sixth week of marginal living. My patience is at an all-time low. I did my usual workout at the gym. Then, I spent a little bit of time in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. I will have to take the bus back to Kahala Mall later in the afternoon. I will purchase something to eat at Star Market before returning to Kapahulu. I am pretty sure that I will also purchase at least a six-pack of brewskis. My nerves are shot. I need to be sedated. There will be nothing to do at Rob's place. Just how many times can I keep reading the same surfing magazine?
I met moms just outside the mall at 10:45am. We ate lunch at Panda Express® as usual. It seems that the crisis of last week has abated once the Ninja Turds realized that I wasn't storing any of my stuff in their home. Yes, I have resurrected the moniker, "Ninja Turds," once again. I sat with moms at the bus stop. When moms boarded her bus, I departed for town. However, I left my truck at Kahala Mall. When I arrived in town, I found myself caught in a moronic cattle drive (read: pedestrian traffic). The idiots kept getting in way, totally oblivious to the fact that I was trying to maneuver around them. "Stupid fucking cattle," I said to myself. An ugly old hag next to me decided to butt in and give me a piece of her mind. I've seen the ho' around. She tries to dress like she's a young hottie. Get real, skank! You're pushing sixty. Put on an old school marm outfit and spare yourself the embarrassment. Sheesh! "Aww shadddup," I responded.
The rest of the day was uneventful. I spent 30 minutes shredding the old Chez Loser documents. The shredder jammed several times. I was really on the verge of losing it at one point. In fact, I thought that I was going to explode in a homicidal rage. I am at wit's end because I have just completed five weeks of homelessness. Yes, this is the start of my sixth week of marginal living. My patience is at an all-time low. I did my usual workout at the gym. Then, I spent a little bit of time in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. I will have to take the bus back to Kahala Mall later in the afternoon. I will purchase something to eat at Star Market before returning to Kapahulu. I am pretty sure that I will also purchase at least a six-pack of brewskis. My nerves are shot. I need to be sedated. There will be nothing to do at Rob's place. Just how many times can I keep reading the same surfing magazine?
Sunday, July 23, 2006
Ultimatum
Yesterday, I met Rob, the former IT guy at the Asylum, at Zippy's for dinner. The food was nothing worth writing about. Rob is frantically trying to vacate his place before the end of next week. He apparently has so much crap that he's going to have to hire a moving crew to take everything to the landfill.
After dinner, I drove to Rob's apartment in Kapahulu. I unloaded my stuff. His apartment is quite stuffy. The whole Kapahulu area is extremely warm to begin with. The building itself, like most hybrid cinder block mausoleums, uses wood construction on the second floor. Normally, old structures like that have a single-wall design, so there's no insulation from the sun's blistering heat. By late afternoon, the interior is possibly over 95 degrees. Rob has three air-conditioners in his apartment. I can just imagine what it is going to cost him just to stabilize the room temperature to 80 degrees.
Internet Jon stopped by while I was sitting in the scorching living room. He's an interesting guy. He seems genuinely concerned about Rob. Oftentimes, I am puzzled about the nature of their friendship. Internet Jon is a personable guy, so it is difficult to fault him for much. He is about 40 years old. He lives with his affluent parents. He often details a variety of grandiose business schemes, all of which never seem to come to fruition. Rob has been working with him since the days of the Asylum. Rob is in his late fifties. Neither he or Internet Jon have ever hooked up with any babes. Internet Jon alleged that he is leaving for New York on a business trip, something to do with the current project that he and Rob are working on. I am wondering if Internet Jon is simply tagging along with his parents for a vacation.
I drove to Kahala Mall because there was not nothing to do in Rob's apartment. I spent some time in Barnes & Noble®. Before returning to Kapahulu, I bought some muffins, a sandwich, and the latest issue of Surfing® magazine at Star Market. The night in Rob's apartment was unbearable. I used the small bedroom upstairs and set the air-conditioner to 80 degrees on "energy saver" mode. What a joke! I finally gave up and selected the regular mode. At about 3am, I was awakened by something biting my neck. I jumped up and turned the lights on. No, it wasn't Amy Reid. A huge cockroach was on my pillow. I had to use a roll of toilet paper to "neutralize" the roach. In the end, I may have gotten a total of one hour of sleep.
I was extremely fatigued this morning. I looked at my pillow and noticed that the pillowcase was completely soiled. It was so hot that I was perspiring profusely. My hair was completely oily, which resulted in brown stains all over the pillowcase. I ate a muffin and the sandwich. Internet Jon made a delivery of some of Rob's stuff. I only chatted with him briefly before I departed. My plan was to take the truck to Waikiki and pay to park it in the Waikiki Banyan parking structure. However, I was too tired. I decided to wait until Tuesday. I will just have to make sure that the truck is not in Rob's parking space during the day. I drove to Kahala Mall. I purchased a big cup of coffee at the Barnes & Noble® Café. Then, I sat down and perused a few surfing magazines, amongst other periodicals. After I finished my coffee, I drove to town. I was planning to leave the truck at Kahala Mall and take the bus to town. However, after a sleepless night in a hot apartment complete with a roach attack, I was not in the mood. Come to think of it, I have no idea why I was perusing the surfing magazines. I haven't been out in the water for a year now.
I ended up in the student computer lab at the Diploma Mill. Tired or not, I went to the gym to do my usual cardio workout. Then, I spent more time in the student computer lab. I will most likely walk to the Pali Safeway® later in the afternoon to buy something healthy for dinner. Then, I spend the rest of the evening doing absolutely nothing at Rob's place. Heck, maybe I will have a few more roaches to "neutralize with extreme prejudice."
I am not sure how long I can last at Rob's place. I may have to break down and spend the $80 per night for a decent hotel room. The whole homeless situation has left me fatigued and now delirious. Since I have heard nothing from the escrow service, I am assuming that closing will occur no earlier than August 7th. That's 15 days from now. Closing can take as long as 40 days, which means that I may be waiting 25 days. Sheesh!
The homeless situation has given me a lot of time to think about my situation in general. Perhaps it is the fatigue, but I have never felt more inclined to just jettison everything and exit modern life. Whenever I think about the useless crap sitting in storage, I become ill. I can't even sell the LCD widescreen tube. No one wants it. Well, people want it but only if it is free. I am already planning a massive divestiture once I am ready to vacate the storage unit. The truck is also a consideration for divestiture. However, during my period of homelessness, I have had to drive much more frequently. My plan to exit society has become more muddled as I push myself further into the grip of the moneychangers. I will lose a lot of money when I try to escape.
One would think that the homeless life is a perfect means to escape society. Yes, I saved a lot of money for the month that I did not have to pay a mortgage. However, the situation has cost me more in terms of frustration and sanity. I am even more enslaved when I am homeless because I can do nothing else. There is no leisure time. Selling Chez Loser was still the right decision. The proceeds have bought me a little more time, but not much. The cost of living is going up so fast that I will reach parity much sooner than expected.
Is there a method to my madness? Yes, I think there is. Overall, I believe that my survival strategy for Hawai'i will pan out. The housing situation is out of control here. Rent continues to increase, which further necessitated the purchase of the "condotel" unit. The housing "bubble" in Hawai'i, if it does exists, will probably make a soft landing. There is no indication that it will burst. It seems that long-term interest rates have remained stable such that most people with the troublesome mortgages are refinancing at fixed rates. Some housing markets will collapse, but the most prominent threat will be petroleum prices. All babbling aside, I have given myself the month of August to complete the divestiture of my useless possessions in storage. I have also established the "cut my losses" threshold at the $420,000 mark. In other words, I will continue along this path until the total of my liquid assets dwindle to that level. Then, I will abruptly cut my losses and get outta Dodge. This is my ultimatum to myself.
Internet Jon stopped by while I was sitting in the scorching living room. He's an interesting guy. He seems genuinely concerned about Rob. Oftentimes, I am puzzled about the nature of their friendship. Internet Jon is a personable guy, so it is difficult to fault him for much. He is about 40 years old. He lives with his affluent parents. He often details a variety of grandiose business schemes, all of which never seem to come to fruition. Rob has been working with him since the days of the Asylum. Rob is in his late fifties. Neither he or Internet Jon have ever hooked up with any babes. Internet Jon alleged that he is leaving for New York on a business trip, something to do with the current project that he and Rob are working on. I am wondering if Internet Jon is simply tagging along with his parents for a vacation.
I drove to Kahala Mall because there was not nothing to do in Rob's apartment. I spent some time in Barnes & Noble®. Before returning to Kapahulu, I bought some muffins, a sandwich, and the latest issue of Surfing® magazine at Star Market. The night in Rob's apartment was unbearable. I used the small bedroom upstairs and set the air-conditioner to 80 degrees on "energy saver" mode. What a joke! I finally gave up and selected the regular mode. At about 3am, I was awakened by something biting my neck. I jumped up and turned the lights on. No, it wasn't Amy Reid. A huge cockroach was on my pillow. I had to use a roll of toilet paper to "neutralize" the roach. In the end, I may have gotten a total of one hour of sleep.
I was extremely fatigued this morning. I looked at my pillow and noticed that the pillowcase was completely soiled. It was so hot that I was perspiring profusely. My hair was completely oily, which resulted in brown stains all over the pillowcase. I ate a muffin and the sandwich. Internet Jon made a delivery of some of Rob's stuff. I only chatted with him briefly before I departed. My plan was to take the truck to Waikiki and pay to park it in the Waikiki Banyan parking structure. However, I was too tired. I decided to wait until Tuesday. I will just have to make sure that the truck is not in Rob's parking space during the day. I drove to Kahala Mall. I purchased a big cup of coffee at the Barnes & Noble® Café. Then, I sat down and perused a few surfing magazines, amongst other periodicals. After I finished my coffee, I drove to town. I was planning to leave the truck at Kahala Mall and take the bus to town. However, after a sleepless night in a hot apartment complete with a roach attack, I was not in the mood. Come to think of it, I have no idea why I was perusing the surfing magazines. I haven't been out in the water for a year now.
I ended up in the student computer lab at the Diploma Mill. Tired or not, I went to the gym to do my usual cardio workout. Then, I spent more time in the student computer lab. I will most likely walk to the Pali Safeway® later in the afternoon to buy something healthy for dinner. Then, I spend the rest of the evening doing absolutely nothing at Rob's place. Heck, maybe I will have a few more roaches to "neutralize with extreme prejudice."
I am not sure how long I can last at Rob's place. I may have to break down and spend the $80 per night for a decent hotel room. The whole homeless situation has left me fatigued and now delirious. Since I have heard nothing from the escrow service, I am assuming that closing will occur no earlier than August 7th. That's 15 days from now. Closing can take as long as 40 days, which means that I may be waiting 25 days. Sheesh!
The homeless situation has given me a lot of time to think about my situation in general. Perhaps it is the fatigue, but I have never felt more inclined to just jettison everything and exit modern life. Whenever I think about the useless crap sitting in storage, I become ill. I can't even sell the LCD widescreen tube. No one wants it. Well, people want it but only if it is free. I am already planning a massive divestiture once I am ready to vacate the storage unit. The truck is also a consideration for divestiture. However, during my period of homelessness, I have had to drive much more frequently. My plan to exit society has become more muddled as I push myself further into the grip of the moneychangers. I will lose a lot of money when I try to escape.
One would think that the homeless life is a perfect means to escape society. Yes, I saved a lot of money for the month that I did not have to pay a mortgage. However, the situation has cost me more in terms of frustration and sanity. I am even more enslaved when I am homeless because I can do nothing else. There is no leisure time. Selling Chez Loser was still the right decision. The proceeds have bought me a little more time, but not much. The cost of living is going up so fast that I will reach parity much sooner than expected.
Is there a method to my madness? Yes, I think there is. Overall, I believe that my survival strategy for Hawai'i will pan out. The housing situation is out of control here. Rent continues to increase, which further necessitated the purchase of the "condotel" unit. The housing "bubble" in Hawai'i, if it does exists, will probably make a soft landing. There is no indication that it will burst. It seems that long-term interest rates have remained stable such that most people with the troublesome mortgages are refinancing at fixed rates. Some housing markets will collapse, but the most prominent threat will be petroleum prices. All babbling aside, I have given myself the month of August to complete the divestiture of my useless possessions in storage. I have also established the "cut my losses" threshold at the $420,000 mark. In other words, I will continue along this path until the total of my liquid assets dwindle to that level. Then, I will abruptly cut my losses and get outta Dodge. This is my ultimatum to myself.
Saturday, July 22, 2006
Next Stop: Kapahulu
I woke up a little later than usual this morning. I am still suffering from the cold. Now, I am beginning to wonder if I have Walking Pneumonia. I would not put it past Pseudo-professor Mike to deny that he actually had Pneumonia. He adamantly claims that I did not contract this cold from him, although he was sicker than a dog when I picked him and Bea up at the airport. Later, he disclosed that he was prescribed medication for his illness. His behavior is becoming more suspect as each day passes. Even more worrisome is the fact that I have no health insurance. I cannot afford to be illin'. I did a little more cleaning. I also did another load of laundry. After checking to see that everything was in place, I left for town at 10:30pm. Naturally, I ended up in the student computer lab.
I drove to Kapahulu at 12:30pm to meet Rob, the former IT guy at the Asylum, at his new place. Rob neglected to tell me that he had only one parking space. Thus, he flagged me down when I turned into the street near his apartment. I spent 30 minutes trying to find parking. Actually, there was parking right across the street, but it is impossible to turn around. Rob had urged me to drive via Kapahulu Avenue, which I did. I originally wanted to come directly from town via Kapi'olani Boulevard, which would have allowed me to park right away. After finally parking, I found Rob inside his place. The apartment looks pretty good. The owners (read: Internet Jon's relatives) had the place gutted. There's new wiring, new appliances, new paint, and new carpet. Even the bathroom is completely redone. Rob is going to be moving stuff over all week. He plans to be fully moved in by next weekend.
Traffic in the Kapahulu area is extremely bad. The narrow roads only exacerbate the situation. The area where Rob will be living looks like the projects. The buildings are the usual cinder block tombs seen all over island. Couldn't someone at least have tried to make these buildings look aesthetically pleasing? I could not live in an area like that. I would lose my mind. The Ala Wai Canal and Ala Wai Golf Course are close to Rob's place. In fact, if I had looked carefully, I could probably spot the Aloha Surf Hotel, home of the "condotel" unit, across the way.
I drove to my storage unit at Hy-Pac. As always, I became extremely frustrated when I had to sort through all the crap to find my new pillows and linens. I also went through my paperwork archive and sorted out the old Chez Loser documents. I will be shredding the unimportant stuff. I put everything that I needed into the truck. However, I was ready to lose it. The inside of my truck is filled with junks. Paperwork bound for shredding. New paperwork. Stuff for moms. Recycling. Laundry. Gym bag. Backpack with all my necessities during homelessness. I am essentially living out of my truck. I also paid the rental fee for the month of August. The good news is that I will get a prorated refund if I vacate before the month is over.
I drove back to town. I did my usual cardio workout at the gym. Then, I spent more time in the student computer lab at the Diploma Mill. Most of that time is spent on the "blog." I'm not sure why I even bother. According to Blog Patrol, there are only ten visitors per day on the average. That's right, only ten people read the idiotic "blog." At 5pm, I put all of the keys and the gate card for the parking structure in an big envelope. Mike, the director overseeing the office that includes the faculty computer room, had left his car in the parking structure. I locked the envelope in his car. He is due back late tonight.
I will meet Rob for dinner at the downtown Zippy's. Then, I will most likely meander over to the Pali Safeway® to purchase food to last me a few days. For the most part, I will be dining out. Rob's place has no cookware and no cooking utensils. At this point in time, I have no idea when the "condotel" unit will close. I am now assuming that August 7th is the target date, if it closes on time. That's a long way from now. I am really tired of the homeless life. Even though I am not paying a cent for housing, I've been deprived of both my dignity and my sanity.
I drove to Kapahulu at 12:30pm to meet Rob, the former IT guy at the Asylum, at his new place. Rob neglected to tell me that he had only one parking space. Thus, he flagged me down when I turned into the street near his apartment. I spent 30 minutes trying to find parking. Actually, there was parking right across the street, but it is impossible to turn around. Rob had urged me to drive via Kapahulu Avenue, which I did. I originally wanted to come directly from town via Kapi'olani Boulevard, which would have allowed me to park right away. After finally parking, I found Rob inside his place. The apartment looks pretty good. The owners (read: Internet Jon's relatives) had the place gutted. There's new wiring, new appliances, new paint, and new carpet. Even the bathroom is completely redone. Rob is going to be moving stuff over all week. He plans to be fully moved in by next weekend.
Traffic in the Kapahulu area is extremely bad. The narrow roads only exacerbate the situation. The area where Rob will be living looks like the projects. The buildings are the usual cinder block tombs seen all over island. Couldn't someone at least have tried to make these buildings look aesthetically pleasing? I could not live in an area like that. I would lose my mind. The Ala Wai Canal and Ala Wai Golf Course are close to Rob's place. In fact, if I had looked carefully, I could probably spot the Aloha Surf Hotel, home of the "condotel" unit, across the way.
I drove to my storage unit at Hy-Pac. As always, I became extremely frustrated when I had to sort through all the crap to find my new pillows and linens. I also went through my paperwork archive and sorted out the old Chez Loser documents. I will be shredding the unimportant stuff. I put everything that I needed into the truck. However, I was ready to lose it. The inside of my truck is filled with junks. Paperwork bound for shredding. New paperwork. Stuff for moms. Recycling. Laundry. Gym bag. Backpack with all my necessities during homelessness. I am essentially living out of my truck. I also paid the rental fee for the month of August. The good news is that I will get a prorated refund if I vacate before the month is over.
I drove back to town. I did my usual cardio workout at the gym. Then, I spent more time in the student computer lab at the Diploma Mill. Most of that time is spent on the "blog." I'm not sure why I even bother. According to Blog Patrol, there are only ten visitors per day on the average. That's right, only ten people read the idiotic "blog." At 5pm, I put all of the keys and the gate card for the parking structure in an big envelope. Mike, the director overseeing the office that includes the faculty computer room, had left his car in the parking structure. I locked the envelope in his car. He is due back late tonight.
I will meet Rob for dinner at the downtown Zippy's. Then, I will most likely meander over to the Pali Safeway® to purchase food to last me a few days. For the most part, I will be dining out. Rob's place has no cookware and no cooking utensils. At this point in time, I have no idea when the "condotel" unit will close. I am now assuming that August 7th is the target date, if it closes on time. That's a long way from now. I am really tired of the homeless life. Even though I am not paying a cent for housing, I've been deprived of both my dignity and my sanity.
Friday, July 21, 2006
No Time for "Schmoozing"
I walked to the Pali Safeway® before driving back to Nu'uanu. I bought a frozen tamale for dinner. It was delicious. While I was perusing the aisles in Safeway®, I could not help but observe the sheer amount of food in the place. However, most of it is lard-filled crap or carcinogenic. A whole supermarket full of food, yet there is barely anything worthy of eating. What does that tell you?
I slept a little better last night. I was not suffering from a post-nasal drip deluge as I had for the past few days. When I awoke, I decided to "test" the Vienna Sausage while I simultaneously conjured up images of hot hurdy-gurdy babes, Amy Reid and Tory Lane. I imagined that I was doin' da wild thing with both of them. The Vienna Sausage was resurrected back to life. The Vienna Sausage stood tall, a giant amongst mortals, and gave much pleasure to its gorgeous recipients before succumbing to its own pleasure. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaa!
I departed for town at 9am after I regained my composure. I ended up in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill for my morning coffee. Pseudo-professor Mike dropped by. He wanted to go out to lunch, but I deferred the option. We chatted for a bit. Turns out that he needed a ride this afternoon to Church of the Crossroads. Why doesn't he just come out and ask me rather than go through the "schmooze" routine? I already owe Bea and him for letting me stay in the Honolulu Tower, so giving him a ride is not a problem for me.
Lori called and left a message about doing lunch. However, I did not see the message until much later. I called her back. We chatted for a few minutes. I had a run-in with Pseudo-professor Jim in the faculty computer room. He was having difficulty printing a report from the Web browser. I attempted to help him. He talked down to me like some kind of peon. "Don't get snippy with me," I said firmly, barely able to keep my composure. His cane, which was hanging off of the arm of his chair fell over. I apologized for my behavior. I felt compassion for him, even though he is often a pompous ass. When he first hobbled in, I noticed that he was sweating profusely. He did not look well. Actually, he hasn't looked well since he started using the cane about a year ago. He is being ravaged by old age. Who wouldn't be in a bad mood?
I went to the gym to do my usual workout. After the gym, I met Pseudo-professor Mike at Indigo Happy Hour. I'm not sure why, but Pseudo-professor Mike has been acting a little strangely lately. He's been in full "schmoozing" mode, but his actions are quite transparent. Perhaps his behavior has been more obvious because he has had to "schmooze" quite a few people since his return from the cruise. It turns out that he had an on-line class in session during the trip. Since it was an on-line class, he would have been safe if he had a reliable Net connection on the ship. However, that was not the case. So, he was ex communicado all that time. What was even more stressful for him was that the Diploma Mill had changed the version of WebCT during that time. Hence, all the "schmoozing" with any faculty member who could help get him up to speed. While we were sitting at the bar in Indigo, he abruptly got up and said, "I'll wait for you outside." That, I suppose, was my cue to drive him to his church. I should have decked him. Instead, we ended up wasting time in the faculty computer room because we were still early. At 5:15pm, I drove him to his church and dropped him off. I had to put petrol in the truck, so I stopped off at a petrol station in Kaimuki. Then, I drove to Kahala Mall to look around and calm my nerves. I listened to a couple of new House Music compilations at Tower Records®. I also browsed Barnes & Noble®.
I returned to Nu'uanu at 8pm. I spent the rest of the evening in front of the tube. This will be my last night here. I did a little cleaning. I also started packing my stuff away. The adventure continues ...
I slept a little better last night. I was not suffering from a post-nasal drip deluge as I had for the past few days. When I awoke, I decided to "test" the Vienna Sausage while I simultaneously conjured up images of hot hurdy-gurdy babes, Amy Reid and Tory Lane. I imagined that I was doin' da wild thing with both of them. The Vienna Sausage was resurrected back to life. The Vienna Sausage stood tall, a giant amongst mortals, and gave much pleasure to its gorgeous recipients before succumbing to its own pleasure. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaa!
I departed for town at 9am after I regained my composure. I ended up in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill for my morning coffee. Pseudo-professor Mike dropped by. He wanted to go out to lunch, but I deferred the option. We chatted for a bit. Turns out that he needed a ride this afternoon to Church of the Crossroads. Why doesn't he just come out and ask me rather than go through the "schmooze" routine? I already owe Bea and him for letting me stay in the Honolulu Tower, so giving him a ride is not a problem for me.
Lori called and left a message about doing lunch. However, I did not see the message until much later. I called her back. We chatted for a few minutes. I had a run-in with Pseudo-professor Jim in the faculty computer room. He was having difficulty printing a report from the Web browser. I attempted to help him. He talked down to me like some kind of peon. "Don't get snippy with me," I said firmly, barely able to keep my composure. His cane, which was hanging off of the arm of his chair fell over. I apologized for my behavior. I felt compassion for him, even though he is often a pompous ass. When he first hobbled in, I noticed that he was sweating profusely. He did not look well. Actually, he hasn't looked well since he started using the cane about a year ago. He is being ravaged by old age. Who wouldn't be in a bad mood?
I went to the gym to do my usual workout. After the gym, I met Pseudo-professor Mike at Indigo Happy Hour. I'm not sure why, but Pseudo-professor Mike has been acting a little strangely lately. He's been in full "schmoozing" mode, but his actions are quite transparent. Perhaps his behavior has been more obvious because he has had to "schmooze" quite a few people since his return from the cruise. It turns out that he had an on-line class in session during the trip. Since it was an on-line class, he would have been safe if he had a reliable Net connection on the ship. However, that was not the case. So, he was ex communicado all that time. What was even more stressful for him was that the Diploma Mill had changed the version of WebCT during that time. Hence, all the "schmoozing" with any faculty member who could help get him up to speed. While we were sitting at the bar in Indigo, he abruptly got up and said, "I'll wait for you outside." That, I suppose, was my cue to drive him to his church. I should have decked him. Instead, we ended up wasting time in the faculty computer room because we were still early. At 5:15pm, I drove him to his church and dropped him off. I had to put petrol in the truck, so I stopped off at a petrol station in Kaimuki. Then, I drove to Kahala Mall to look around and calm my nerves. I listened to a couple of new House Music compilations at Tower Records®. I also browsed Barnes & Noble®.
I returned to Nu'uanu at 8pm. I spent the rest of the evening in front of the tube. This will be my last night here. I did a little cleaning. I also started packing my stuff away. The adventure continues ...
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Stonehead Fun
I woke up at the usual time this morning, even with the ravaging effects of the relapsed cold. I saw an odd object on the floor of the living room as I staggered about. It was a toad (not to be confused with Toad, the stalker). I scurried about until I found a Swiffer® laying against the wall. So, I used the Swiffer® to push the toad out the door. I departed for town at 9am. When I arrived in town, I discovered that I left my dork glasses in Nu'uanu. I spent an hour in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. I drove back to Nu'uanu reluctantly. I collected my dork glasses and returned to town.
Ralph, now Dean at HCC, made a surprise visit to the faculty computer room. He gave the ol' lavahead a Red Meat comic strip that he cut out of the Honolulu Weekly. The comic was quite humorous (see link). As you know, the ol' lavahead has an affinity for the stoneheads on Easter Island. Oftentimes, the ol' lavahead wonders about his uncanny resemblance to the Moai stoneheads.
Rob, the former IT guy at the Asylum, called. We are to meet at his pace on Saturday at 1pm. This works out fine because I must vacate the place in Nu'uanu sometime Saturday morning. Parking for my truck is going to be interesting. I called the Waikiki Banyan. Looks like I'll be able to get a monthly pass there starting in August.
I was dizzy for most of the day. Not only did I forget my dork glasses, I also forgot to pack a change of underwear. After my gym workout and shower, I had to wear the old soiled damp underwear. Most likely, I will walk to Safeway® before the drive back to Nu'uanu. Then, I spend all night in front of the tube.
I still have not submitted the bank loan application. There were a number of errors. What is really holding me back is the drafting of the $500 check. Any outlay of money causes me great apprehension. I prolong the agony until the last minute before I part with the cash, albeit reluctantly.
Vienna Sausage Update. The relapse of the cold has made it impossible to continue any further "tests" of the Vienna Sausage. Now, if the Vienna Sausage could "befriend" hot hurdy-gurdy babe Tory Lane, then it would be in Hog Heaven!
Ralph, now Dean at HCC, made a surprise visit to the faculty computer room. He gave the ol' lavahead a Red Meat comic strip that he cut out of the Honolulu Weekly. The comic was quite humorous (see link). As you know, the ol' lavahead has an affinity for the stoneheads on Easter Island. Oftentimes, the ol' lavahead wonders about his uncanny resemblance to the Moai stoneheads.
Rob, the former IT guy at the Asylum, called. We are to meet at his pace on Saturday at 1pm. This works out fine because I must vacate the place in Nu'uanu sometime Saturday morning. Parking for my truck is going to be interesting. I called the Waikiki Banyan. Looks like I'll be able to get a monthly pass there starting in August.
I was dizzy for most of the day. Not only did I forget my dork glasses, I also forgot to pack a change of underwear. After my gym workout and shower, I had to wear the old soiled damp underwear. Most likely, I will walk to Safeway® before the drive back to Nu'uanu. Then, I spend all night in front of the tube.
I still have not submitted the bank loan application. There were a number of errors. What is really holding me back is the drafting of the $500 check. Any outlay of money causes me great apprehension. I prolong the agony until the last minute before I part with the cash, albeit reluctantly.
Vienna Sausage Update. The relapse of the cold has made it impossible to continue any further "tests" of the Vienna Sausage. Now, if the Vienna Sausage could "befriend" hot hurdy-gurdy babe Tory Lane, then it would be in Hog Heaven!
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Family of One
Last night, I walked to the Pali Safeway® before driving back to Nu'uanu. I was tempted to purchase a big-ass bottle of wine, but I refrained. I spent the evening in front of the tube. I felt much better, or so I thought until I tried to go to sleep. I had a massive relapse of the cold. I was illin'. The post-nasal drip was more like a waterfall. I was coughing and hacking all night long.
Moms called quite early this morning to warn me to not bring any of my things over to Hawai'i Kai from my storage unit. Moms and my bro's wife got into an argument over the matter. The stupid part is that I was just going to bring stuff over that I thought moms could use. Otherwise, I was going to donate the crap. The dolt must have thought that I wanted to store my stuff at her house. The situation, as I have predicted before, is going to reach critical mass. As I have told moms, the whole problem revolves around the house. My bro and his dolt wife believe that moms should have given them the house exclusively. Right now, they are locked in a mortgage to pay me for the half of the house that was supposedly mine. That is more than a thorn in the dolt sister-in-law's side. I do not understand why moms keeps hoping that my bro's family will change their tune and be grateful for what they have. As moms told me, the dolt sister-in-law brought up some old bullshit, specifically when Lori was allowed to live there when we had moved to Hawai'i a few years ago. I suppose that the dolt forgot about when moms allowed her to live rent-free for a long period of time. In fact, the dolt refused to move out and refused to pay for anything. That's all in the journal.
As I have told moms, the animosity is toward the ol' lavahead. My bro and his dolt wife are pissed off because they didn't get the house for free. They are even more pissed off that I have a large amount of unused money that "rightfully" belongs to them. This is greed wielding its ugly head. Long ago, when I had warned moms of these undercurrents, moms chastised me for "evil" thoughts. My only concern is that my bro will be forced to kick moms out of the house. His dolt wife is pulling the strings. I still stand by my prognostications. Once the dolt persuades my bro to evict moms, he will be be next. The dolt will file for divorce. He will be out on his ass, homeless and broke. He will be paying both the mortgage and child support. I am fully prepared to help moms, but my bro will be on his own.
I had planned to bring the stuff over and spend time with moms today. However, my bro's dolt wife was home because she had a doctor's appointment later in the day. I decided not to visit. Instead, I ended up in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. Bank of Hawai'i sent the mortgage paperwork to me. I received the latter yesterday. So, I spent part of the morning signing the forms.
Pseudo-professor Mike stopped by the faculty computer room. He invited Sandra (who works under Mike, the director of the office overseeing the faculty computer room) and I to join him for lunch at Grindz. Lunch was good. We had an interesting chat as well.
Rob, the former IT guy at the Asylum, called to let me know that he is going to rent the apartment from Internet Jon's relatives. As it stands, I will most likely be staying there from Saturday until closing occurs for the "condotel" unit. I was still illin' by late afternoon. And, I was in a bad way because of the situation going on between moms and my bro's family. I went to the gym regardless. Then, I returned to the Diploma Mill. Well, as you may have guessed, I'll spend another exciting evening in front of the tube. Sheesh!
Vienna Sausage Update. Yet another "test" was performed on the Vienna Sausage. However, a massive relapse of the cold may have tainted the result. The Vienna Sausage is still functioning at a sub-optimal level. Now, if the Vienna Sausage could "befriend" hurdy-gurdy hottie Amy Reid, then it would be invincible!
Moms called quite early this morning to warn me to not bring any of my things over to Hawai'i Kai from my storage unit. Moms and my bro's wife got into an argument over the matter. The stupid part is that I was just going to bring stuff over that I thought moms could use. Otherwise, I was going to donate the crap. The dolt must have thought that I wanted to store my stuff at her house. The situation, as I have predicted before, is going to reach critical mass. As I have told moms, the whole problem revolves around the house. My bro and his dolt wife believe that moms should have given them the house exclusively. Right now, they are locked in a mortgage to pay me for the half of the house that was supposedly mine. That is more than a thorn in the dolt sister-in-law's side. I do not understand why moms keeps hoping that my bro's family will change their tune and be grateful for what they have. As moms told me, the dolt sister-in-law brought up some old bullshit, specifically when Lori was allowed to live there when we had moved to Hawai'i a few years ago. I suppose that the dolt forgot about when moms allowed her to live rent-free for a long period of time. In fact, the dolt refused to move out and refused to pay for anything. That's all in the journal.
As I have told moms, the animosity is toward the ol' lavahead. My bro and his dolt wife are pissed off because they didn't get the house for free. They are even more pissed off that I have a large amount of unused money that "rightfully" belongs to them. This is greed wielding its ugly head. Long ago, when I had warned moms of these undercurrents, moms chastised me for "evil" thoughts. My only concern is that my bro will be forced to kick moms out of the house. His dolt wife is pulling the strings. I still stand by my prognostications. Once the dolt persuades my bro to evict moms, he will be be next. The dolt will file for divorce. He will be out on his ass, homeless and broke. He will be paying both the mortgage and child support. I am fully prepared to help moms, but my bro will be on his own.
I had planned to bring the stuff over and spend time with moms today. However, my bro's dolt wife was home because she had a doctor's appointment later in the day. I decided not to visit. Instead, I ended up in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. Bank of Hawai'i sent the mortgage paperwork to me. I received the latter yesterday. So, I spent part of the morning signing the forms.
Pseudo-professor Mike stopped by the faculty computer room. He invited Sandra (who works under Mike, the director of the office overseeing the faculty computer room) and I to join him for lunch at Grindz. Lunch was good. We had an interesting chat as well.
Rob, the former IT guy at the Asylum, called to let me know that he is going to rent the apartment from Internet Jon's relatives. As it stands, I will most likely be staying there from Saturday until closing occurs for the "condotel" unit. I was still illin' by late afternoon. And, I was in a bad way because of the situation going on between moms and my bro's family. I went to the gym regardless. Then, I returned to the Diploma Mill. Well, as you may have guessed, I'll spend another exciting evening in front of the tube. Sheesh!
Vienna Sausage Update. Yet another "test" was performed on the Vienna Sausage. However, a massive relapse of the cold may have tainted the result. The Vienna Sausage is still functioning at a sub-optimal level. Now, if the Vienna Sausage could "befriend" hurdy-gurdy hottie Amy Reid, then it would be invincible!
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
The Moneychangers
Yesterday, Pseudo-professor Mike invited me to join him and Bea for dinner. I was not feeling well, but he came by to collect me at the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. Dinner was delicious, although my sense of taste has been diminished because of my illness.
Pseudo-professor Mike and I had an interesting discussion. I came to learn more about him as a person. And, what's more important, I have come to realize why he is the way he is. He had told me a while back about how he met his wife, how they went to law school on the mainland, and so forth. He had also told me about his wife's stint as a State senator representing Kaua'i. Pseudo-professor Mike was, in a way, living in his wife's shadow. He was once appointed to become a judge, but that bid was usurped by the "good ol' boy" system so prevalent in Hawai'i. Now he is tying up loose ends before his divorce. He has committed to Bea in the interim. He lamented about not having a pension, and that his health insurance was inexplicably tied to his wife. The divorce would end his health insurance. The subsequent disposition of their property is what may end up being a financial salvation for him. I could not help but see some common threads with him, as I see with many of my other acquaintances and friends.
This has always been my role as the "Keeper of Lost Lives." And, it was the basis of the journal, until it was undermined twice. My catalog of lost lives included people who are quite similar to myself, essentially low achievers. Many of us could have done better. Some of us are often saved from our demise by an unknown force. Others succumb to the vortex of stupidity and go down with the turds. Most notable are the critical decisions that each individual makes. Sometimes there are no decisions and the person in question remain in limbo forever, awaiting an even worse crisis down the road. Only a few people have made an attempt to chronicle their lives. In my small circle, that cadre only includes the ol' lavahead, Anonder, and Mr. Ray. What I find interesting about the three of us is that we comprise a somewhat broad spectrum and, possibly, a cross-section of the general populace.
I woke up fairly early this morning. I was still illin'. After a quick bite to eat, I departed for town. I ended up in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. Pseudo-professor Glenn stopped by to chat for a few minutes. Aside from that, I spent most of my time piddling on the computer.
I have been sending financial documentation over the last two days by FAX to Bank of Hawai'i. However, I had to submit the documents several times because my name allegedly did not appear on any. My accounts are all on-line, so I do not receive anything on paper. I must print out the on-screen information. I had to do this for the last loan with the same bank when I purchased Chez Loser. I am beginning to believe that my problems with the bank, including the high interest rate and shorter term, is because I had sold Chez Loser. One would think that, as a returning customer, I would be welcomed in open arms. Not so. The reason is simple. By selling Chez Loser, the loans were paid off. The bank no longer makes a huge amount of interest over 30 years. I have essentially betrayed the moneychangers. Greed is what drives these dickheads. Sure, I am obtaining another loan, which will make them money. However, what is to stop me from selling again? More money lost, as far as the moneychangers are concerned. Thus, I must be "punished." What I should have done is pay for the "condotel" unit in cash.
We are so used to greed that many of us do not even notice it anymore, no less recognize it. Most of this greed comes from living beyond our means. However, it is the moneychangers who have made it possible to live beyond our means. They have created the "system." They have devised the rules. The have enslaved us and duped us. However, it is our own need for instant gratification as well as our own greed that has made it all possible. Greed begets greed. Yes, we could blame the moneychangers. However, we have empowered the moneychangers. We also continue to feed into their power and increase their stranglehold upon us. The "system" is a plague. A sickness. It is an affliction of dire consequences. It affects the mind's ability to think clearly. And, it insulates the soul from reality.
In the last few days, I have noticed any discussion about the current Middle East crisis. Yesterday, the tube in the locker room at the gym was blaring the tainted news coverage of the crisis. Some clown walked in and changed the channel to ESPN®. Says it all, doesn't it? Only until something hits home (e.g., "September 11th") will we see the most ignorant form of Pavlovian responses. Uneducated, uninformed, and emotional responses. The moneychangers and the powers-that-be have long ago learned how to capitalize on the sedated masses. The concept is as simple as taking a dog to obedience school. That's where we've been taken. Don't you see?
The fact of the matter is simple. As long as we can live comfortable lives with all of the toys and entertainment to soothe and sedate our senses, we really don't give a shit about much else. Even with our rights being ravaged and more of our real rights (e.g., healthcare) being denied, the robotic sycophants continue to toe the line, as it were. I am amazed to see how the victims defend the oppressors in the name of "freedom." I am equally amazed to see the increasing class warfare such as the sheer disdain and hatred for the homeless. This is all a dream come true for the architects of the "system." Materialism requires planned obsolescence. Nothing can last long. Otherwise, the "system" will collapse. In the "system," people are no better than a toaster. They are cattle. They consume and will be consumed. Only an extreme amount of wealth offers protection, something most of don't have.
Well, I spent the rest of the day engaged in wage slavery, going to the gym, and the usual mundane crap. Even while I vegetate in front of the tube in the evenings, I contemplate what I must do to avoid being caught up in the "system." What else can I do?
Vienna Sausage Update. Another "test" of the Vienna Sausage revealed significant increases in performance and output. The original thesis that the Vienna Sausage was affected by the ravages of the common cold was correct. In a couple of days, it is anticipated that the number of "tests" will be increased in order to observe what the Vienna Sausage is really capable of.
Pseudo-professor Mike and I had an interesting discussion. I came to learn more about him as a person. And, what's more important, I have come to realize why he is the way he is. He had told me a while back about how he met his wife, how they went to law school on the mainland, and so forth. He had also told me about his wife's stint as a State senator representing Kaua'i. Pseudo-professor Mike was, in a way, living in his wife's shadow. He was once appointed to become a judge, but that bid was usurped by the "good ol' boy" system so prevalent in Hawai'i. Now he is tying up loose ends before his divorce. He has committed to Bea in the interim. He lamented about not having a pension, and that his health insurance was inexplicably tied to his wife. The divorce would end his health insurance. The subsequent disposition of their property is what may end up being a financial salvation for him. I could not help but see some common threads with him, as I see with many of my other acquaintances and friends.
This has always been my role as the "Keeper of Lost Lives." And, it was the basis of the journal, until it was undermined twice. My catalog of lost lives included people who are quite similar to myself, essentially low achievers. Many of us could have done better. Some of us are often saved from our demise by an unknown force. Others succumb to the vortex of stupidity and go down with the turds. Most notable are the critical decisions that each individual makes. Sometimes there are no decisions and the person in question remain in limbo forever, awaiting an even worse crisis down the road. Only a few people have made an attempt to chronicle their lives. In my small circle, that cadre only includes the ol' lavahead, Anonder, and Mr. Ray. What I find interesting about the three of us is that we comprise a somewhat broad spectrum and, possibly, a cross-section of the general populace.
I woke up fairly early this morning. I was still illin'. After a quick bite to eat, I departed for town. I ended up in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. Pseudo-professor Glenn stopped by to chat for a few minutes. Aside from that, I spent most of my time piddling on the computer.
I have been sending financial documentation over the last two days by FAX to Bank of Hawai'i. However, I had to submit the documents several times because my name allegedly did not appear on any. My accounts are all on-line, so I do not receive anything on paper. I must print out the on-screen information. I had to do this for the last loan with the same bank when I purchased Chez Loser. I am beginning to believe that my problems with the bank, including the high interest rate and shorter term, is because I had sold Chez Loser. One would think that, as a returning customer, I would be welcomed in open arms. Not so. The reason is simple. By selling Chez Loser, the loans were paid off. The bank no longer makes a huge amount of interest over 30 years. I have essentially betrayed the moneychangers. Greed is what drives these dickheads. Sure, I am obtaining another loan, which will make them money. However, what is to stop me from selling again? More money lost, as far as the moneychangers are concerned. Thus, I must be "punished." What I should have done is pay for the "condotel" unit in cash.
We are so used to greed that many of us do not even notice it anymore, no less recognize it. Most of this greed comes from living beyond our means. However, it is the moneychangers who have made it possible to live beyond our means. They have created the "system." They have devised the rules. The have enslaved us and duped us. However, it is our own need for instant gratification as well as our own greed that has made it all possible. Greed begets greed. Yes, we could blame the moneychangers. However, we have empowered the moneychangers. We also continue to feed into their power and increase their stranglehold upon us. The "system" is a plague. A sickness. It is an affliction of dire consequences. It affects the mind's ability to think clearly. And, it insulates the soul from reality.
In the last few days, I have noticed any discussion about the current Middle East crisis. Yesterday, the tube in the locker room at the gym was blaring the tainted news coverage of the crisis. Some clown walked in and changed the channel to ESPN®. Says it all, doesn't it? Only until something hits home (e.g., "September 11th") will we see the most ignorant form of Pavlovian responses. Uneducated, uninformed, and emotional responses. The moneychangers and the powers-that-be have long ago learned how to capitalize on the sedated masses. The concept is as simple as taking a dog to obedience school. That's where we've been taken. Don't you see?
The fact of the matter is simple. As long as we can live comfortable lives with all of the toys and entertainment to soothe and sedate our senses, we really don't give a shit about much else. Even with our rights being ravaged and more of our real rights (e.g., healthcare) being denied, the robotic sycophants continue to toe the line, as it were. I am amazed to see how the victims defend the oppressors in the name of "freedom." I am equally amazed to see the increasing class warfare such as the sheer disdain and hatred for the homeless. This is all a dream come true for the architects of the "system." Materialism requires planned obsolescence. Nothing can last long. Otherwise, the "system" will collapse. In the "system," people are no better than a toaster. They are cattle. They consume and will be consumed. Only an extreme amount of wealth offers protection, something most of don't have.
Well, I spent the rest of the day engaged in wage slavery, going to the gym, and the usual mundane crap. Even while I vegetate in front of the tube in the evenings, I contemplate what I must do to avoid being caught up in the "system." What else can I do?
Vienna Sausage Update. Another "test" of the Vienna Sausage revealed significant increases in performance and output. The original thesis that the Vienna Sausage was affected by the ravages of the common cold was correct. In a couple of days, it is anticipated that the number of "tests" will be increased in order to observe what the Vienna Sausage is really capable of.
Monday, July 17, 2006
Madness
Yesterday, I walked to the Pali Longs® to look around. I bought a couple of cans of tuna. Then, I drove back to Nu'uanu. I spent all evening in front of the tube. By ten o' clock, I had a splitting headache from the endless post-nasal drip and coughing cycle. After a few sips of the Vendage® Chardonnay, I decided to call it a night. I'm not sure when I fell asleep, but most of the time prior was spent hacking away due to the post-nasal drip.
I woke up this morning more fatigued than ever. I staggered around while I attempted to prepare for the day. I wrote out a check for $4,000 to submit to escrow. My stomach felt really queasy after signing the check. I departed for town at 9am. After parking the truck, I ended up in the faculty computer room for my morning coffee. I left a little before 10am to catch the bus to Kahala Mall. I met moms right outside the mall. We chatted for a bit. Then, we ate lunch at Panda Express®. As always, I sat at the bus top with moms until the bus arrived. Then, I departed for town.
Rob, the former IT guy at the Asylum, called and left a message. I called him after I arrived back in town. He is planning to rent the apartment from Internet Jon's relatives that we had gone to see last month. Rob wanted to know if I still needed a place to stay. So, I may have the apartment to use for a couple of weeks starting this Saturday. That would work out great for me.
Caroll in Sacramento called and left a message as well. She said that she had an important question to ask. I did not call her back. My guess is that she wants to borrow money. Don't get me wrong. I am concerned about Caroll. The problem is that she cannot handle her finances at all. I believe that she's unemployed. Rather than rent a small apartment, she decided to rent a house. Naturally, that decision required that she take on a few roommates. She has always relied upon her fellow AA members to be reliable roommates. As you can guess, her roommates have been a major source of additional financial grief. She also refuses to give up her cats. Nor does she want to give up any luxuries (e.g., cell phone, high-speed Internet, renting DVDs, etc.). So, her monthly expenses are extremely high. Caroll also went through bankruptcy because she was well over her head when she purchased a condo in Salinas. That and she also defaulted on her student loans (used to pay the mortgage), which ruined her credit. I am not one to turn my back on a friend in need, but this is too risky for me.
I did not feel well for the rest of the day. However, I went to the gym and did my usual workout. I also dropped off the $4,000 check off at Old Republic. I felt even more sick. Later, I ended up at the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. Most likely, I will check my mail at the Post Office. Then, I will walk over to the Pali Safeway® to buy enough food to last until Thursday.
I read an article titled, "The Beauty of the System," by Joe Bageant on his site. What makes this article of particular interest is not the usual pap about the "system." Most of the cattle don't believe that there is a "system." What really comes through is the frustration of trying to buy out of the life-style that we are accustomed to. That life-style is part of the "system," but I am not going to argue that point here. Too many cattle blindly support the "system," even though they don't believe that it exists. I'll simply quote James Harvey Robinson from "The Mind in the Making." He states:
Vienna Sausage Update. The Vienna Sausage was subjected to another "test," which it passed "hands down." As far as I can tell, the recent non-optimal performance of the Vienna Sausage is due to the effects of the flu-like malady. The next "test" may have to be postponed until a clean bill of health is issued.
I woke up this morning more fatigued than ever. I staggered around while I attempted to prepare for the day. I wrote out a check for $4,000 to submit to escrow. My stomach felt really queasy after signing the check. I departed for town at 9am. After parking the truck, I ended up in the faculty computer room for my morning coffee. I left a little before 10am to catch the bus to Kahala Mall. I met moms right outside the mall. We chatted for a bit. Then, we ate lunch at Panda Express®. As always, I sat at the bus top with moms until the bus arrived. Then, I departed for town.
Rob, the former IT guy at the Asylum, called and left a message. I called him after I arrived back in town. He is planning to rent the apartment from Internet Jon's relatives that we had gone to see last month. Rob wanted to know if I still needed a place to stay. So, I may have the apartment to use for a couple of weeks starting this Saturday. That would work out great for me.
Caroll in Sacramento called and left a message as well. She said that she had an important question to ask. I did not call her back. My guess is that she wants to borrow money. Don't get me wrong. I am concerned about Caroll. The problem is that she cannot handle her finances at all. I believe that she's unemployed. Rather than rent a small apartment, she decided to rent a house. Naturally, that decision required that she take on a few roommates. She has always relied upon her fellow AA members to be reliable roommates. As you can guess, her roommates have been a major source of additional financial grief. She also refuses to give up her cats. Nor does she want to give up any luxuries (e.g., cell phone, high-speed Internet, renting DVDs, etc.). So, her monthly expenses are extremely high. Caroll also went through bankruptcy because she was well over her head when she purchased a condo in Salinas. That and she also defaulted on her student loans (used to pay the mortgage), which ruined her credit. I am not one to turn my back on a friend in need, but this is too risky for me.
I did not feel well for the rest of the day. However, I went to the gym and did my usual workout. I also dropped off the $4,000 check off at Old Republic. I felt even more sick. Later, I ended up at the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. Most likely, I will check my mail at the Post Office. Then, I will walk over to the Pali Safeway® to buy enough food to last until Thursday.
I read an article titled, "The Beauty of the System," by Joe Bageant on his site. What makes this article of particular interest is not the usual pap about the "system." Most of the cattle don't believe that there is a "system." What really comes through is the frustration of trying to buy out of the life-style that we are accustomed to. That life-style is part of the "system," but I am not going to argue that point here. Too many cattle blindly support the "system," even though they don't believe that it exists. I'll simply quote James Harvey Robinson from "The Mind in the Making." He states:
We like to continue to believe what we have been accustomed to accept as true, and the resentment aroused when doubt is cast upon any of our assumptions leads us to seek every manner of excuse for clinging to them. The result is that most of our so-called reasoning consists in finding arguments for going on believing what we already do. And now the astonishing and perturbing suspicion emerges that perhaps almost all that has passed for social science, political economy, politics, and ethics in the past may be brushed aside by future generations as mainly rationalizing.That pretty much explains everything, eh? It's pure madness, my friends. Pure madness.
Vienna Sausage Update. The Vienna Sausage was subjected to another "test," which it passed "hands down." As far as I can tell, the recent non-optimal performance of the Vienna Sausage is due to the effects of the flu-like malady. The next "test" may have to be postponed until a clean bill of health is issued.
Sunday, July 16, 2006
The Simple Life (Reprise)
When I returned to Nu'uanu at 5:30pm yesterday, I immediately poured out a glass of Vendage® wine. I ate canned tuna and bread for dinner. Then, I spent the rest of the evening in a zombie-like state in front of the tube. I was illin' for most of the evening. In fact, I lapsed into a coma for about two hours during my extended tube-watching session.
The cold has gotten worse. I am coughing repeatedly in order to discharge the crap in my throat from the continuous post-nasal drip. I also experienced several hot flashes, which is coincident with a fever. I tried to sleep in this morning, but my involuntary coughing was prohibiting the latter. I ate a few slices of bread slathered with "natural" peanut butter for breakfast. You may recall my complete pathetic diet detailed in one of last entries of the journal. I left for town at 11:30am. After parking the truck, I walked over to the student computer lab at the Diploma Mill. Yep, the start of another benign day!
I received e-mail from Mr. Ray. He asked, "Are you sure you've got it all that bad where you're at in life just now?" He then reminisced about some of the crazy times detailed in the journal. Alas, truth be known, I am better off in some respects than the days of old back in Convalescent City. I was quite poor then. I was living in a tiny shoebox in the Roach Motel when I first came up with the idea for the site which hosts the journal. I also decided to form a one-man monastery. Here's the clincher, though. I was financially poor, but I was rich in other ways. I had quite a network of friends. The gym was actually a really fun place to hang out. Life was very simple. I was essentially free, much more free than I am today.
Prior to moving back to Hawai'i, I had already predicted that the move to Honolulu was going to be my demise. The "big city" was not for me. I won't rehash the harrowing years since the move. It's all in the journal. However, I have never gotten over the complexities that have inundated and plagued me since then. The costs to live in poverty in Hawai'i are the same as that of someone living a middle class life-style in many parts of the mainland. The latter point is moot, though, because I have already made the decision to remain here for the time being. My only goal now is to return to the simple life even if it is feigned.
A simple life in Hawai'i, at least on O'ahu, is next to impossible to attain. In my case, I refused to make the required concessions. I could have shared a rental. Had I chosen that route, the result would have been disastrous. I also decided to purchase another vehicle, against my better judgment. A truck, no less. The consideration at the time was my residence in Kane'ohe, and the restricted bus routes to that area. In my current state of homelessness, the truck has proven to be valuable. My inability to control my acquisition of useless crap has also figured into the "big picture." Thus, I now have to pay the price in the form of a storage unit. I have rehashed this situation ad nauseum. The bottom is that I should have done more adequate planning. Then, again, maybe planning was not the problem.
I am quite certain that Anonder has had the most fool-proof plan all along. He has long ago determined that he needed a certain amount of wealth to exit society. When he achieved that goal, he did exactly that. There's more than meets the eye. He had also constructed a philosophy and life-style that he has since adhered to. By far, Anonder's life-style is the most simple that I have ever known. My problem is that my concept of "simple" was not that simple. There's still too much clutter because I cannot seem to cut myself off from the material world. Without such a commitment, I will be doomed to live my life in material purgatory.
This conundrum has gone on far too long. As I become more of a senior citizen, I will have less need for the vanity that I am accustomed to. I will only need the bare essentials. My guess is that I have about five years before I see a rapid acceleration in aging. All I will need to worry about then is how to purchase a stylin' motorized chair. Sheesh!
By mid-afternoon, I was seriously illin'. I decided to go to the gym anyway. After the gym, I returned to the student computer lab at the Diploma Mill. The "blog" seems to be a priority, no doubt because I don't have much else going on these days. The rest of the day will be predictable. I will return to Nu'uanu and spend the whole evening in front of the tube.
Vienna Sausage Update. The Vienna Sausage was subjected to another "test." The response time to external stimuli has seemingly increased. Two possible reasons can be postulated. The cold has escalated to now include more flu-like symptoms. Fatigue has also increase as well as stress, no doubt due to homelessness. The conspicuous absence of the hurdy-gurdy DVD library may also be another cause. Perhaps the Vienna Sausage is only responsive to titillating external stimuli.
The cold has gotten worse. I am coughing repeatedly in order to discharge the crap in my throat from the continuous post-nasal drip. I also experienced several hot flashes, which is coincident with a fever. I tried to sleep in this morning, but my involuntary coughing was prohibiting the latter. I ate a few slices of bread slathered with "natural" peanut butter for breakfast. You may recall my complete pathetic diet detailed in one of last entries of the journal. I left for town at 11:30am. After parking the truck, I walked over to the student computer lab at the Diploma Mill. Yep, the start of another benign day!
I received e-mail from Mr. Ray. He asked, "Are you sure you've got it all that bad where you're at in life just now?" He then reminisced about some of the crazy times detailed in the journal. Alas, truth be known, I am better off in some respects than the days of old back in Convalescent City. I was quite poor then. I was living in a tiny shoebox in the Roach Motel when I first came up with the idea for the site which hosts the journal. I also decided to form a one-man monastery. Here's the clincher, though. I was financially poor, but I was rich in other ways. I had quite a network of friends. The gym was actually a really fun place to hang out. Life was very simple. I was essentially free, much more free than I am today.
Prior to moving back to Hawai'i, I had already predicted that the move to Honolulu was going to be my demise. The "big city" was not for me. I won't rehash the harrowing years since the move. It's all in the journal. However, I have never gotten over the complexities that have inundated and plagued me since then. The costs to live in poverty in Hawai'i are the same as that of someone living a middle class life-style in many parts of the mainland. The latter point is moot, though, because I have already made the decision to remain here for the time being. My only goal now is to return to the simple life even if it is feigned.
A simple life in Hawai'i, at least on O'ahu, is next to impossible to attain. In my case, I refused to make the required concessions. I could have shared a rental. Had I chosen that route, the result would have been disastrous. I also decided to purchase another vehicle, against my better judgment. A truck, no less. The consideration at the time was my residence in Kane'ohe, and the restricted bus routes to that area. In my current state of homelessness, the truck has proven to be valuable. My inability to control my acquisition of useless crap has also figured into the "big picture." Thus, I now have to pay the price in the form of a storage unit. I have rehashed this situation ad nauseum. The bottom is that I should have done more adequate planning. Then, again, maybe planning was not the problem.
I am quite certain that Anonder has had the most fool-proof plan all along. He has long ago determined that he needed a certain amount of wealth to exit society. When he achieved that goal, he did exactly that. There's more than meets the eye. He had also constructed a philosophy and life-style that he has since adhered to. By far, Anonder's life-style is the most simple that I have ever known. My problem is that my concept of "simple" was not that simple. There's still too much clutter because I cannot seem to cut myself off from the material world. Without such a commitment, I will be doomed to live my life in material purgatory.
This conundrum has gone on far too long. As I become more of a senior citizen, I will have less need for the vanity that I am accustomed to. I will only need the bare essentials. My guess is that I have about five years before I see a rapid acceleration in aging. All I will need to worry about then is how to purchase a stylin' motorized chair. Sheesh!
By mid-afternoon, I was seriously illin'. I decided to go to the gym anyway. After the gym, I returned to the student computer lab at the Diploma Mill. The "blog" seems to be a priority, no doubt because I don't have much else going on these days. The rest of the day will be predictable. I will return to Nu'uanu and spend the whole evening in front of the tube.
Vienna Sausage Update. The Vienna Sausage was subjected to another "test." The response time to external stimuli has seemingly increased. Two possible reasons can be postulated. The cold has escalated to now include more flu-like symptoms. Fatigue has also increase as well as stress, no doubt due to homelessness. The conspicuous absence of the hurdy-gurdy DVD library may also be another cause. Perhaps the Vienna Sausage is only responsive to titillating external stimuli.
Saturday, July 15, 2006
Begin the Beguile
Yesterday, I received mail from Bank of Hawai'i stating that I would need to purchase flood insurance before the loan would go through for the "condotel" unit. I was quite perturbed. The moneychangers are at it again. No matter what I do, I will be robbed of every last cent. Well, I had at least $2 and some change, so I spent it at Taco Bell®. Two bean burritos with green sauce. No red sauce. Naturally, I had to walk to the Pali Safeway® and purchase a big-ass bottle of Vendage® Chardonnay.
I spent the rest of the evening in front of the tube. I did not partake much of the wine. I have not felt good for a couple of days. I have what appears to be the common cold. I recalled that Pseudo-professor Mike was illin' when he returned from his vacation. The cold has precipitated heavy post-nasal drip which, in turn, provoked a regular stream of involuntary old man noises.
I called Debbie, my realtor, to inquire about the flood insurance. I figured that the condo association should already have coverage. She said that she would check into it. I will also have to dole out another $4,000 to escrow next week.
I tried to sleep in this morning, but I have difficulty being comfortable in someone else's tomb (read: mausoleum). Heck, I'm not comfortable in my own mausoleum. I ate a small snack before departing to town at 9:30am. It has been raining since yesterday, which is odd for Summer. Nu'uanu is similar to Kane'ohe insofar as the weather is concerned. What an unpleasant reminder of my Chez Loser days! I ended up in the student computer lab at the Diploma Mill. I received e-mail from both Debbie and Brenda about the flood insurance requirement. They were both certain that flood insurance is included in the maintenance fee.
Feeling relieved, I decided to restore my monk haircut at the Institute of Hair Design. An Asian hottie cut my hair today. She seemed a bit timid, but she can sure cut hair. When Leo, one of the instructors, came by to check her work, he found no need to correct anything. Why do I subject myself to such experimentation? As a guy who must live below the poverty line, I must always seek out the most economical services. The haircut was less than $10 including the tip. I also don't particularly care about the result. The monk haircut is fairly short, so there's not much that can go wrong.
I spent more time at the student computer lab before going to the gym at 2pm. On the weekend, I usually only do a quick cardio workout. I am still taking my showers at the gym. I will continue this practice indefinitely, even when I move into the "condotel" unit. After the gym, I returned to the student computer lab for the rest of the afternoon. Obviously, I will spend all evening in front of the tube. No doubt, I will partake of the fire water again to calm my nerves.
I have been perusing the HiCentral site to monitor the current real estate situation in Hawai'i. In the last two weeks, I have observed that many of the lower priced fee simple condos have gone into escrow. A few of the units that I had gone to view are still on the market, most likely because of the lack of parking or the dungeon-like ambiance of the unit. The "condotel" units are not selling, most likely because of the financing problems. In addition, most "condotel" units are restricted to investment property status. The units in Haiku Point are still on the market. I was very fortunate to have sold Chez Loser. Incidentally, if you peruse the HiCentral site, you will find the "condotel" unit that I am purchasing, complete with pictures.
It has become fairly obvious to me that I must concentrate and maintain "survival mode." The inspection of the "condotel" unit revealed that mostly everything that I need is provided in the unit. Debbie said that, in addition to the furniture, I should also get a set of towels, sheets, pillows, and bedspread. The unit has a small refrigerator, microwave oven, air conditioner, and non-widescreen LCD tube. I have phone service and a high-speed Internet connection as well. Thus, a good portion of crap in storage can be divested. I'm going to see if I can keep my surfboard in the unit until I find a place to store it. The disposition of my Nissan® truck will also become a consideration.
I am not sure why I have been overly concerned about capital preservation. The whole concept is ludicrous. I've discussed this in the journal, but it must have slipped my mind. There were a variety of articles a while back that focused on bankruptcy. The majority of bankruptcies in the senior citizen age group were due to unforeseen medical expenses. Thus, many senior citizens had spent a lifetime saving up a nestegg, only to see it all disappear. This is the most probable scenario that faces all of us. We have a growing population of fat slobs who are going to live longer and suffer a variety of costly, albeit avoidable, medical maladies. Life-style and diet will play an integral part. The healthcare system will be overburdened and, therefore, cost will rise exponentially. The healthcare system will either collapse or it will only serve those who can afford to pay the exorbitant costs. This is a case-in-point concerning the influence of the aggregate on the cost of living for the individual. The careless and insatiable life-style of the masses of cattle will bring us all to the brink. Add in the greed of the moneychangers, then it is easy to see why capital preservation is a joke. Only the truly affluent will survive.
Vienna Sausage Update. The recent Vienna Sausage malfunction has caused me a lot of grief. If the Vienna Sausage becomes completely inoperable, then I will become an eunuch. Therefore, I have decided to "test" the Vienna Sausage daily for a period of time. The results of the "test" today are inconclusive. The Vienna Sausage appears to be functioning fine. If I may conjecture, perhaps the absence of the hurdy-gurdy DVD library has affected the Vienna Sausage. Or, could this be the real beginning of the "Viagra® Years"?
World Upheaval. It comes no surprise to me that Shrub and his boys (and pretty much everyone else) are fully supportive of the latest two-prong Israeli escapade (term used loosely) in the Middle East. I was neither surprised that a whole series of apologists for the "victimized" Israel quickly stepped forward to justify the bloodshed. Let's face it. All of the parties in question are trying to invoke Armageddon (read: "rapture" in fanatic-speak). The puppetmasters in this country have already assured themselves that they have bought a place in Heaven, as it were. Why else would they pulling the strings on a Jewish nation? Christendom and Judaism separated a long time ago over the issue of the Messiah. Israel itself has other more secular plans for the annexation of more land (and water). We could be nearing a very large-scale regional war that will also consolidate the messes in Iraq and Afghanistan. One really has to wonder what will happen to oil prices. Be assured that the powers-that-be already know the outcome. That outcome will be enslavement and subsequent genocide of the masses of the "non-chosen." And, while the cattle here continue to "shop 'til you drop," they will soon discover that they are also scheduled for removal.
The coddling of Zionist Israel by our Christian fundamentalists and politicians seems puzzling at best. Israel has no oil. It has nothing to offer the moneychangers. Yet, the moneychangers continue to pour money and military aid into Israel. The religious charlatans continue to bless the nation of Israel. As I've mentioned before, there are pure racist undercurrents at play. Israel is essentially made up of European (read: Caucasian) Jews. The rest of the Middle East, with the exception of Iran, are brown-skinned Arabs. There are also religious undercurrents. Judaism was the precursor to Christianity, at least before the greatest betrayal of all time. However, I am certain that the garden-variety Christian would much rather coddle to the Jewish state than the infidels of the Muslim world. Finally, the antagonistic Zionists of Israel will, by action, continue to keep the Middle East in turmoil. It serves as a wedge to keep the Arab nations from reuniting and dissolving the partitions created by the British in the early part of the century. The real purpose of the partitions? Control the oil, of course!
I tried to sleep in this morning, but I have difficulty being comfortable in someone else's tomb (read: mausoleum). Heck, I'm not comfortable in my own mausoleum. I ate a small snack before departing to town at 9:30am. It has been raining since yesterday, which is odd for Summer. Nu'uanu is similar to Kane'ohe insofar as the weather is concerned. What an unpleasant reminder of my Chez Loser days! I ended up in the student computer lab at the Diploma Mill. I received e-mail from both Debbie and Brenda about the flood insurance requirement. They were both certain that flood insurance is included in the maintenance fee.
Feeling relieved, I decided to restore my monk haircut at the Institute of Hair Design. An Asian hottie cut my hair today. She seemed a bit timid, but she can sure cut hair. When Leo, one of the instructors, came by to check her work, he found no need to correct anything. Why do I subject myself to such experimentation? As a guy who must live below the poverty line, I must always seek out the most economical services. The haircut was less than $10 including the tip. I also don't particularly care about the result. The monk haircut is fairly short, so there's not much that can go wrong.
I spent more time at the student computer lab before going to the gym at 2pm. On the weekend, I usually only do a quick cardio workout. I am still taking my showers at the gym. I will continue this practice indefinitely, even when I move into the "condotel" unit. After the gym, I returned to the student computer lab for the rest of the afternoon. Obviously, I will spend all evening in front of the tube. No doubt, I will partake of the fire water again to calm my nerves.
I have been perusing the HiCentral site to monitor the current real estate situation in Hawai'i. In the last two weeks, I have observed that many of the lower priced fee simple condos have gone into escrow. A few of the units that I had gone to view are still on the market, most likely because of the lack of parking or the dungeon-like ambiance of the unit. The "condotel" units are not selling, most likely because of the financing problems. In addition, most "condotel" units are restricted to investment property status. The units in Haiku Point are still on the market. I was very fortunate to have sold Chez Loser. Incidentally, if you peruse the HiCentral site, you will find the "condotel" unit that I am purchasing, complete with pictures.
It has become fairly obvious to me that I must concentrate and maintain "survival mode." The inspection of the "condotel" unit revealed that mostly everything that I need is provided in the unit. Debbie said that, in addition to the furniture, I should also get a set of towels, sheets, pillows, and bedspread. The unit has a small refrigerator, microwave oven, air conditioner, and non-widescreen LCD tube. I have phone service and a high-speed Internet connection as well. Thus, a good portion of crap in storage can be divested. I'm going to see if I can keep my surfboard in the unit until I find a place to store it. The disposition of my Nissan® truck will also become a consideration.
I am not sure why I have been overly concerned about capital preservation. The whole concept is ludicrous. I've discussed this in the journal, but it must have slipped my mind. There were a variety of articles a while back that focused on bankruptcy. The majority of bankruptcies in the senior citizen age group were due to unforeseen medical expenses. Thus, many senior citizens had spent a lifetime saving up a nestegg, only to see it all disappear. This is the most probable scenario that faces all of us. We have a growing population of fat slobs who are going to live longer and suffer a variety of costly, albeit avoidable, medical maladies. Life-style and diet will play an integral part. The healthcare system will be overburdened and, therefore, cost will rise exponentially. The healthcare system will either collapse or it will only serve those who can afford to pay the exorbitant costs. This is a case-in-point concerning the influence of the aggregate on the cost of living for the individual. The careless and insatiable life-style of the masses of cattle will bring us all to the brink. Add in the greed of the moneychangers, then it is easy to see why capital preservation is a joke. Only the truly affluent will survive.
Vienna Sausage Update. The recent Vienna Sausage malfunction has caused me a lot of grief. If the Vienna Sausage becomes completely inoperable, then I will become an eunuch. Therefore, I have decided to "test" the Vienna Sausage daily for a period of time. The results of the "test" today are inconclusive. The Vienna Sausage appears to be functioning fine. If I may conjecture, perhaps the absence of the hurdy-gurdy DVD library has affected the Vienna Sausage. Or, could this be the real beginning of the "Viagra® Years"?
World Upheaval. It comes no surprise to me that Shrub and his boys (and pretty much everyone else) are fully supportive of the latest two-prong Israeli escapade (term used loosely) in the Middle East. I was neither surprised that a whole series of apologists for the "victimized" Israel quickly stepped forward to justify the bloodshed. Let's face it. All of the parties in question are trying to invoke Armageddon (read: "rapture" in fanatic-speak). The puppetmasters in this country have already assured themselves that they have bought a place in Heaven, as it were. Why else would they pulling the strings on a Jewish nation? Christendom and Judaism separated a long time ago over the issue of the Messiah. Israel itself has other more secular plans for the annexation of more land (and water). We could be nearing a very large-scale regional war that will also consolidate the messes in Iraq and Afghanistan. One really has to wonder what will happen to oil prices. Be assured that the powers-that-be already know the outcome. That outcome will be enslavement and subsequent genocide of the masses of the "non-chosen." And, while the cattle here continue to "shop 'til you drop," they will soon discover that they are also scheduled for removal.
The coddling of Zionist Israel by our Christian fundamentalists and politicians seems puzzling at best. Israel has no oil. It has nothing to offer the moneychangers. Yet, the moneychangers continue to pour money and military aid into Israel. The religious charlatans continue to bless the nation of Israel. As I've mentioned before, there are pure racist undercurrents at play. Israel is essentially made up of European (read: Caucasian) Jews. The rest of the Middle East, with the exception of Iran, are brown-skinned Arabs. There are also religious undercurrents. Judaism was the precursor to Christianity, at least before the greatest betrayal of all time. However, I am certain that the garden-variety Christian would much rather coddle to the Jewish state than the infidels of the Muslim world. Finally, the antagonistic Zionists of Israel will, by action, continue to keep the Middle East in turmoil. It serves as a wedge to keep the Arab nations from reuniting and dissolving the partitions created by the British in the early part of the century. The real purpose of the partitions? Control the oil, of course!
Friday, July 14, 2006
Cruel Summer (Yet Again)
Half of the Summer has already gone by, and all I am doing is chokin' da chicken. Speaking of which, I decided to "test" the Vienna Sausage yesterday. Whoa! The Vienna Sausage is not functioning up to specification. Whassup wi' dat? In the last "test," the Vienna Sausage was like a powerful cannon. It almost took out my eye. Sheesh! Could it be that the Vienna Sausage's days are numbered? This could be good or bad news, depending on how I look at it. If the Vienna Sausage is ready to call it quits, then I won't need my extensive hurdy-gurdy DVD library anymore. Heck, the hurdy-gurdy library is sitting in my storage unit anyway. Then, the babe situation will be a permanent non-existent issue.
I'm no physician, but I am quite sure that the Vienna Sausage atrophies without use. The latter phenomenon becomes even more painfully obvious when one is a senior citizen like myself. Ideally, the Vienna Sausage should be "exercised" (preferably with a babe) daily. I remember when I was doin' da wild thing four or five times daily. Oh man! The Vienna Sausage was in top shape back then. Now, it's a poor, neglected Vienna Sausage.
Lori called yesterday. She wants us to go surfing again, but that may be difficult while I am homeless. My surfboard is in storage. Lori also offered me a place to stay, but I doubt that I will take her up on the offer. Last night, I walked to the Pali Safeway® before driving back to Nu'unanu. I bought a few more canned goods and a bottle of Sea Ridge® Chardonnay. I spent all evening in front of the tube while polishing off the bottle of wine.
I drove to town early this morning. I ended up at the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. I received e-mail from Brenda at Bank of Hawai'i. She requested a couple of documents from me. So far, the loan has been conditionally approved pending receipt of the documents. I caught the bus to Waikiki at noon and met Debbie, my realtor, at the Aloha Surf Hotel. Debbie was running a little late, so I sat in the lobby. There were several young hotties running amuck in the hotel lobby. The front desk babe was also a hottie. Good thing that the Vienna Sausage is malfunctioning! Debbie and I did a visual inspection of "condotel" unit. Everything seemed fine. The appraisal and termite inspection was also done today. Debbie gave me a ride back to town.
The rest of the afternoon was mundane. Gym. Faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. Check mail at the Post Office. Drive back to Nu'uanu. I should be sitting in front of the tube all evening again. Oh, it's a cruel Summer ...
I'm no physician, but I am quite sure that the Vienna Sausage atrophies without use. The latter phenomenon becomes even more painfully obvious when one is a senior citizen like myself. Ideally, the Vienna Sausage should be "exercised" (preferably with a babe) daily. I remember when I was doin' da wild thing four or five times daily. Oh man! The Vienna Sausage was in top shape back then. Now, it's a poor, neglected Vienna Sausage.
Lori called yesterday. She wants us to go surfing again, but that may be difficult while I am homeless. My surfboard is in storage. Lori also offered me a place to stay, but I doubt that I will take her up on the offer. Last night, I walked to the Pali Safeway® before driving back to Nu'unanu. I bought a few more canned goods and a bottle of Sea Ridge® Chardonnay. I spent all evening in front of the tube while polishing off the bottle of wine.
I drove to town early this morning. I ended up at the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. I received e-mail from Brenda at Bank of Hawai'i. She requested a couple of documents from me. So far, the loan has been conditionally approved pending receipt of the documents. I caught the bus to Waikiki at noon and met Debbie, my realtor, at the Aloha Surf Hotel. Debbie was running a little late, so I sat in the lobby. There were several young hotties running amuck in the hotel lobby. The front desk babe was also a hottie. Good thing that the Vienna Sausage is malfunctioning! Debbie and I did a visual inspection of "condotel" unit. Everything seemed fine. The appraisal and termite inspection was also done today. Debbie gave me a ride back to town.
The rest of the afternoon was mundane. Gym. Faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. Check mail at the Post Office. Drive back to Nu'uanu. I should be sitting in front of the tube all evening again. Oh, it's a cruel Summer ...
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Thief in the Night (Again)
As I sat and watched the tube last night, I took some time to snap out of my zombie trance to peruse the humble abode of Mike, the director of the office that oversees the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. It's a small apartment with two very small windows. Mike lives a simple life, although he does have the place filled with stuff. No matter how I tried to perceive his place as a home, it still reminded me of a tomb. A mini-mausoleum. Now, don't get me wrong. I am grateful that I have a place to stay during my time of homelessness. Mike had given me a printed sheet of notes about the use of his place. I was amused by the content, mainly because it amply revealed his meticulous nature. I don't think that Mike realizes how much more meticulous the ol' lavahead is. Worst yet, I reflected on my "condotel" unit. It's a ready-made tomb.
Some other tidbits. Professor Darwin mentioned the other day that his wife is pregnant with second child. "That's going to be expensive," I said. He shook his head. "I guess I need to find a third job," he told me. Pseudo-professor Mike has decided to not run for Congress. Well, that decision was made by default since he never filed his nomination papers. He's also preparing for his divorce.
I read an interesting article In Alternet by Frank Scott titled, "Mind Mismanagement." What caught my eye was this astute observation:
This was my second day driving to town in the commuter traffic on the Pali Highway. I pulled into the parking structure along with the other wage slaves, the big difference being that I was dressed in shorts and a tank top. The actual amount of time I will spend today in wage slavery is three hours. The rest of the time will be spent in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. In retrospect, I did a little time as a true "9-to-5" wage slave. However, in all honesty, that only amounted to six month. All of my life, I have been a non-achieving nobody. Even in my heyday of working three jobs here in Hawai'i, I ended up putting in about 30 hours per week. Unlike the other bitter pseudo-professors, I was quite happy with my salary. That's neither here or there. During the morning commute, I sensed how out of place I was. Yet, this is the normal pattern for most people. The rest of the day will be a zombie's delight. After wage slavery, I will go to the gym. Then, I will commute back to Nu'unanu where I will spend the rest of the evening in front of the tube.
I check my investment accounts in a compulsive fashion these days. I watch the dividends on my money market funds tick upward. Sadly, it all seems like chump change to me. This is the income that I am going to rely upon from now on. My perception of reality has been distorted by the high cost of living in Hawai'i. In fact, all of us who live here have the same distorted reality of the value of money. My investments now make over $50 per day, but that is chump change in the scheme of things here. There really is no doubt that I will have to make major changes in my life-style. Either that, or I will have to commit to real wage slavery. My "standard of living" is gauged upon that of the collective. I must pay the same price for a tomb as everyone else, although my needs for a tomb are much less. My minimal consumption pattern introduces an element of inconvenience that must paid in terms of time. I must devote time to seek out resources as opposed to buying or subscribing to those resources.
While I am homeless and sensitive to survival issues, I must think about the latter deeply. When I return to the comfort level, albeit substandard, that I am accustomed to, then I will forget about the basic premise of survival. In that respect, I must retain my individualism. Or, I will perish.
Overall, the warning signs are there for the collective to see. Yet, the collective simply dismisses those signs with the usual denial-based themes. Even the Good Book warned that Armageddon will come about "like a thief in the night." Swift and quiet. So, too, will our self-invoked destruction.
News and Truth. As I composed this useless "blog," I monitored the events unfolding in the Middle East. The domestic news sources are tainted with the typical propaganda. No surprise. Thus, I have once again come to rely upon select alternative media
Some other tidbits. Professor Darwin mentioned the other day that his wife is pregnant with second child. "That's going to be expensive," I said. He shook his head. "I guess I need to find a third job," he told me. Pseudo-professor Mike has decided to not run for Congress. Well, that decision was made by default since he never filed his nomination papers. He's also preparing for his divorce.
I read an interesting article In Alternet by Frank Scott titled, "Mind Mismanagement." What caught my eye was this astute observation:
Our system is a market anti-socialism of isolated individuals who are the sum total of reality, with no connection to one another except during wars, church meetings or tax collections. Any other idea of public or social cooperation is seen as traitorous suppression of freedom for the individual to shop, and without asking any questions about the merchandise. This enables the social structure to remain largely unquestioned, while a variety of individuals are blamed, revered, despised, beseeched or murdered, with minimal attention to the organizing principle that often governs their individual behavior, however disorganized and unprincipled it may seem.Even more chilling was the premise of his concluding remarks:
Those who smugly demean some Americans for watching TV or sports and voting for what is deemed greater evil, are often themselves consumers of pointless pap they call high culture, while they vote for lesser evil. This simply strengthens evil and further divides individuals into opposing camps and thus does the bidding of our mind controllers by strengthening their system of individuals, which threatens all of us as a society.That's a powerful statement which quickly invoked some introspection on my part. I seek the simple life, what I call the monk life-style. While I may not be a consumer of "high culture," my non-consumption and non-conformity is also a form of individualism, the same individualism which keeps society fragmented and further enables the corporate mind controllers.
This was my second day driving to town in the commuter traffic on the Pali Highway. I pulled into the parking structure along with the other wage slaves, the big difference being that I was dressed in shorts and a tank top. The actual amount of time I will spend today in wage slavery is three hours. The rest of the time will be spent in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. In retrospect, I did a little time as a true "9-to-5" wage slave. However, in all honesty, that only amounted to six month. All of my life, I have been a non-achieving nobody. Even in my heyday of working three jobs here in Hawai'i, I ended up putting in about 30 hours per week. Unlike the other bitter pseudo-professors, I was quite happy with my salary. That's neither here or there. During the morning commute, I sensed how out of place I was. Yet, this is the normal pattern for most people. The rest of the day will be a zombie's delight. After wage slavery, I will go to the gym. Then, I will commute back to Nu'unanu where I will spend the rest of the evening in front of the tube.
I check my investment accounts in a compulsive fashion these days. I watch the dividends on my money market funds tick upward. Sadly, it all seems like chump change to me. This is the income that I am going to rely upon from now on. My perception of reality has been distorted by the high cost of living in Hawai'i. In fact, all of us who live here have the same distorted reality of the value of money. My investments now make over $50 per day, but that is chump change in the scheme of things here. There really is no doubt that I will have to make major changes in my life-style. Either that, or I will have to commit to real wage slavery. My "standard of living" is gauged upon that of the collective. I must pay the same price for a tomb as everyone else, although my needs for a tomb are much less. My minimal consumption pattern introduces an element of inconvenience that must paid in terms of time. I must devote time to seek out resources as opposed to buying or subscribing to those resources.
While I am homeless and sensitive to survival issues, I must think about the latter deeply. When I return to the comfort level, albeit substandard, that I am accustomed to, then I will forget about the basic premise of survival. In that respect, I must retain my individualism. Or, I will perish.
Overall, the warning signs are there for the collective to see. Yet, the collective simply dismisses those signs with the usual denial-based themes. Even the Good Book warned that Armageddon will come about "like a thief in the night." Swift and quiet. So, too, will our self-invoked destruction.
News and Truth. As I composed this useless "blog," I monitored the events unfolding in the Middle East. The domestic news sources are tainted with the typical propaganda. No surprise. Thus, I have once again come to rely upon select alternative media
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Tomb Raider
Before driving to Nu'unanu, I walked to the Pali Safeway® to buy the same kind of crappy food that I've been eating for months. I actually found my way to the place fairly easily, making only one wrong turn. The roads through Nu'uanu are a maze. There is no rice cooker in the place, so I am eating bread as a substitute. Beans and bread. What a meal! I spent all night in front of the tube and watched “Cops.” Fortunately, I had also purchased a bottle of Diablo Creek® Chardonnay. I polished off the whole bottle as I sat there like a zombie.
This morning, I ate my usual bread with peanut butter for breakfast. I drove to town and ended up in the faculty computer room for a few minutes. I caught the bus to Kahala Mall at 9am. Moms was already at the hearing aid place when I arrived. I was allowed to sit in during the appointment. It's actually a doctor's office. From what I could tell, moms was given a thorough examination and also given a full disclosure. The price came to $3,000 and some change, but it included several post-fitting examinations. Moms did not make a decision yet. We walked around the mall and stopped in Longs®. We did not have time to eat lunch. I waited with moms at the bus stop. After moms boarded the bus, I returned to town.
The rest of the day will be a repeat of the usual zombie routine. Gym. Hang out in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. Drive back to Nu'uanu. Tuna and bread for dinner. Sit in front of the tube all night.
The incongruence between my thinking and reality seems to be growing exponentially. The rift is wreaking havoc on my psyche. I am now regretting my decision to purchase the "condotel." In my mind, freedom would have best been attained by becoming truly homeless and living in the "tent city." Of course, I could easily put the "condotel" unit back in the hotel pool and become homeless regardless. I would also have the option of changing my mind. Or, I could be homeless for selected portions of time. Amusing as the latter may seem, my morale has nonetheless slipped to an all-time low. The incongruence that I speak of is stemming from my disillusionment with my homeless condition, though not because of homelessness per se. I am actually living the exact same life-style as in my pre-homeless days. I am simply sitting around and rotting in someone else's tomb (read: mausoleum).
Hence, I tend to fully agree with what Anonder posted in Speak! VI, that is,
It is by no accident that all of the major institutions (i.e., work, school, church, home, etc.) in our lives resemble mortuaries as well. They are mortuaries. Tombs. Mausoleums. All of them. They are a constant reminder of our mortality. I am not sure why people choose to celebrate life by locking themselves in their tombs. People sit for hours in chairs that resemble caskets. They watch the tube endlessly which puts them in a catatonic state, much like a cadaver.
No longer sure of what I want to do or where I want to be, I spend my days avoiding the self-lobotomization that is seemingly popular amongst the cattle. As a senior citizen, I cannot emphasize enough that time is running out. Sitting around and fretting over what to do with my widescreen LCD tube while it sits in storage at $66 per month is benign, to say the least. Wasting time thinking about which new mausoleum to reside in is even more benign. However, remaining in the loop of wage slavery and the subsequent transferal of the pittance from the latter to the moneychangers is malignant at best.
Alas, the sad part of the story is that most of us are myopically focused on out shitty little lives. We tend to ignore the "big picture." Hence, when sinister kahuna and his puppets pull the plunger, we are all going to get sucked down the bowl in a swirling vortex with all of the other turds. The world is falling apart as per The Prophesy whether we choose to believe it or not. Technology is not going to save us. Science is not going to save us. We're in too deep.
This morning, I ate my usual bread with peanut butter for breakfast. I drove to town and ended up in the faculty computer room for a few minutes. I caught the bus to Kahala Mall at 9am. Moms was already at the hearing aid place when I arrived. I was allowed to sit in during the appointment. It's actually a doctor's office. From what I could tell, moms was given a thorough examination and also given a full disclosure. The price came to $3,000 and some change, but it included several post-fitting examinations. Moms did not make a decision yet. We walked around the mall and stopped in Longs®. We did not have time to eat lunch. I waited with moms at the bus stop. After moms boarded the bus, I returned to town.
The rest of the day will be a repeat of the usual zombie routine. Gym. Hang out in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. Drive back to Nu'uanu. Tuna and bread for dinner. Sit in front of the tube all night.
The incongruence between my thinking and reality seems to be growing exponentially. The rift is wreaking havoc on my psyche. I am now regretting my decision to purchase the "condotel." In my mind, freedom would have best been attained by becoming truly homeless and living in the "tent city." Of course, I could easily put the "condotel" unit back in the hotel pool and become homeless regardless. I would also have the option of changing my mind. Or, I could be homeless for selected portions of time. Amusing as the latter may seem, my morale has nonetheless slipped to an all-time low. The incongruence that I speak of is stemming from my disillusionment with my homeless condition, though not because of homelessness per se. I am actually living the exact same life-style as in my pre-homeless days. I am simply sitting around and rotting in someone else's tomb (read: mausoleum).
Hence, I tend to fully agree with what Anonder posted in Speak! VI, that is,
When a person, for whatever reason, does not want to marry, have children, strive for a position of distinction in society and otherwise follow the conventional path mapped out by society, then they are pretty much forced into the monastic life. The particular monastic path I am following is that of the solitary wandering holy man. The wandering is not obligatory, unless you have an excess of physical energy, which causes boredom and restlessness if you try to remain in one place too long.The sad part is that the "conventional path" is designed into all aspects of everyday life. For a person on the "conventional path," a home is just that. A home. It is acceptable for a home to become gaudy, filled with decorations, furnishings, and amenities much like a mausoleum in perpetuity.
It is by no accident that all of the major institutions (i.e., work, school, church, home, etc.) in our lives resemble mortuaries as well. They are mortuaries. Tombs. Mausoleums. All of them. They are a constant reminder of our mortality. I am not sure why people choose to celebrate life by locking themselves in their tombs. People sit for hours in chairs that resemble caskets. They watch the tube endlessly which puts them in a catatonic state, much like a cadaver.
No longer sure of what I want to do or where I want to be, I spend my days avoiding the self-lobotomization that is seemingly popular amongst the cattle. As a senior citizen, I cannot emphasize enough that time is running out. Sitting around and fretting over what to do with my widescreen LCD tube while it sits in storage at $66 per month is benign, to say the least. Wasting time thinking about which new mausoleum to reside in is even more benign. However, remaining in the loop of wage slavery and the subsequent transferal of the pittance from the latter to the moneychangers is malignant at best.
Alas, the sad part of the story is that most of us are myopically focused on out shitty little lives. We tend to ignore the "big picture." Hence, when sinister kahuna and his puppets pull the plunger, we are all going to get sucked down the bowl in a swirling vortex with all of the other turds. The world is falling apart as per The Prophesy whether we choose to believe it or not. Technology is not going to save us. Science is not going to save us. We're in too deep.
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