Hulu® Hullabaloo

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Usual Hawai'i Kai routine. Moms apparently tripped and fell in the back yard sometime over the weekend. Although moms fell onto the grass, she apparently is experiencing residual pains by her ribs. I didn't think much of it at the time, but now I wonder if moms may have a minor fracture or bone bruising. If moms is still in pain on Friday when I visit next, then I will have to recommend a doctor's appointment.

During a recent daydream, I imagined what an ideal life for me would be like. Realistically, though, I would need about $1 million more in liquid assets to bring such a dream to fruition. We're not talking about living extravagantly either. I would prefer to live in an independent rental unit, possibly a small cottage or studio on rural land. I would rid myself of the truck, opting instead to rent a vehicle for a couple of days each week. I would pay down all debts, including the mortgage of the detestable "condotel" unit. Then, I'd reassess my strategy to sell the dump. I would place all of my valuable paperwork and possessions in a secured storage unit until both could be whittled down to nothing. Aside from that, not much else would change. Sadly, freedom itself costs a lot of money.

Back at the horrid Slob Manor (read: rental housing), I only look forward to viewing another episode of "Firefly" on Hulu®. There are only a handful of episodes that I have not yet seen. I find that I am really not interested in any of the other archived tube shows. So, when I have viewed all fourteen of the "Firefly" episodes, then I'm done. Well, I may catch a few episode of "Hawai'i Five-O" just for fun. Sheesh!

Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder

A different shade of the same ol' shit. I followed the usual urban nomad kind-of-a-Sunday routine until I arrived at the gym in town. Even though the hottie gym trainer was in the weight room with her client, I departed within a few minutes to go to the gym across from Ala Moana Center. I knew that I would end up there anyway because the showers were still being worked on at the downtown branch. Why didn't I just walk directly to the other gym in the first place? I don't know.

Nonetheless, I completed my usual workout at 12:30pm. Obviously, I had plenty of time on my hands. I walked back to Ala Moana Center. Then, I purchased a pint of ice cream at Foodland for a treat. I have been purchasing ice cream every Sunday now. Ice cream is my favorite food, by the way. I usually sit outside facing the parking area by the Sears® store, adjacent to the dreadful Automotive Center and eat the ice cream. Nothing like the smell of old tires to whet one's appetite, eh?

Because of the sheer filth in Slob Manor (read: rental housing), I have picked up a few eccentric traits. For example, I must wash my hands almost every two minutes, usually after touching something not of my ownership. Walls, doorknobs, fridge handle, and so forth are most likely contaminated. Yeah, obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD). Yet another negative attribution to Slob Manor.

Perhaps OCD is the reason why I have an ever-increasing and massive hurdy-gurdy video library (HGVL). What else could explain such a phenomenon? I am now completely determined to fill my entire portable hard drive with the best hurdy-gurdy video clips. If anything, the vast HGVL will be my claim to fame. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

Redrum

The day started off wrong when the Route 1 bus was twelve minutes late this morning. I had to slightly modify my urban nomad itinerary because I missed my connection to the Route 6 bus.

When I finally arrived at the library at 9:30am, I noticed a babe in a bright red dress dress standing outside. She appeared to be reading a small book. Later, I happened to notice that she was walking back and forth very slowly past the columns that line the entrance of the library. In addition to the red dress, she wore red, albeit faded, canvas shoes and red lipstick. The color red really stood out against her near-black hair. Baby was also somewhat attractive. Strangely, she was still walking back and forth extremely slowly when I exited to eat my lunch in the Capitol district at noon. She was still reading what appeared to be the Unholy Scriptures. Baby entered the library a couple of times and disappeared. Out of curiosity, I walked around and discovered her meandering about on the second floor. In no time, she was back outside at the entrance, slowly pacing back and forth, book in hand. When I finally departed at 1:30pm, baby was still at it.

I also managed to chat briefly with my homeless buddy. As usual, we discussed the homeless situation. He mentioned that the homeless shelter in Kaka'ako is 90 percent Micronesian in demographic. That's why a lot of locals don't want to stay there, he told me. He also informed me that many of the parks contain homogeneous populations of gays, drug users, and so forth. Choosing the right park to be homeless is an important consideration. My homeless buddy also said that the food banks are beginning to crack down on non-needy people looking for free food.

At the gym, I discovered that the showers would be unavailable all weekend due to scheduled repairs. Thus, I cut the cardio portion of my workout down to 15 minutes in order to facilitate a sweat-free workout. What a joke! During the return trip on the bus, I decided to head out to Hawai'i Kai and complete a real cardio workout at the gym there. Without any aerobic exercise, I usually feel sluggish and nauseous. So be it. I did not arrive back at Slob Manor (rental housing) until 6pm. At the least, I felt much better.

Later, I was still perplexed by the babe in the red dress. I had noticed that a small lunch container was sitting at one end of the entrance to the library. I assumed that it belonged to baby since she was the only one loitering outside for an extended period of time. All in all, baby apparently planned the strange excursion. Why was she wearing all red? What was she doing? She certainly wasn't poised to proselytize to the "sinners." In fact, she only read silently from the Unholy Scriptures. Was she a member of a "Christian" cult? I believe so. Could she have been praying for fire and brimstone to rain down and destroy the heretic books? Redrum? Did she not know that the religion section is probably the largest in the library? Strange things.

Post No. 1,874

Usual Hawai'i Kai routine. Foodland in Koko Marina will be closing for good on July 10th. Apparently, lease negotiations broke down in the eleventh hour. Foodland has always been there as long as I can remember, or at least when my family first moved to Hawai'i Kai 45 years ago. Moms and I have gotten to know a few of Foodland personnel over the years. Now, they will all be relocated. I suppose that moms and I will be shopping at Safeway® in Kuapa Kai. Obviously, I can always stop off at Foodland Farms in the Aina Haina Shopping Center on the way back to Slob Manor (read: rental housing). However, I am not particularly keen about the idea.

Well, as foolish as it may seem, I am thinking about optimizing my gym bag. My current gym bag is very dilapidated, so it needs to be replaced soon. I would like an even smaller gym bag. The current one can actually fit nicely in my lap, ideal for riding the bus. However, a reduction in payload is definitely in order. I carry my gym attire, gym shoes, socks, shampoo, toothpaste, toothbrush, towel, and assorted other "stuff." I can reduce the payload by not packing up my gym shoes. Thus, I plan to purchase a pair of canvas shoes, which I will wear near full-time in place of the usual slippers (read: slippahs). I will still carry a pair of slippers for showering purposes. Wearing shoes will also reduce the need to grind down the callouses on the soles of my feet with the pumice stone. And, a canvas shoe would be ideal to wear in the gym as well. So, my gym shoes can be retired, too. Fortunately for me, I qualify for the senior citizen discount at Ross®. Wheee!

Wasteland (Yet Again)

Last night, I just realized why I cannot get rid of my truck (read: 6,000-pound motorized chair). Slob Manor (read: rental housing) is in the tsunami flood zone. I have all of my earthly possessions in my squalid room, including all important paperwork and my useless computers. If and when a tsunami strikes, I must be able to evacuate both myself and whatever I deem to be valuable or important. Enter my Nissan® Frontier truck. The bogus "American Dream" interlocks all aspects of one's life. There is simply no way to remove just a small portion. It's always all or nothing.

Speaking of important paperwork, I continuously glance over at the one stack that is sitting on the squalid loveseat in my squalid room. Some people have many file cabinets worth of paperwork. I only have a three-inch stack all placed in manila folders, which is stuffed in a plastic shopping bag. Almost all of the rubbish is related to the detestable "condotel" unit. I'd like to discard the entire stack, but I must keep it for tax purposes. Once I rid myself of all of my useless possessions and property, I will have about three sheets of paper that may be of importance. That, my friends, is freedom.

I neglected to mention that I had a long chat yesterday with the Slob Manor landlord. Slob Manor is being refinanced at a lower interest rate. Curiously, the landlord mentioned that the bank required her daughter to be a cosigner to the loan. Evidently, the combined income of the landlord and her husband was not enough to approve the loan. Of course, the landlord makes more than enough to cover the mortgage from rental income. Yet, I have to wonder whether Slob Manor will end up in foreclosure because of poor financial management.

At the library, I have been reading the book, "The Winter of Our Disconnect: How Three Totally Wired Teenagers (and a Mother Who Slept with Her iPhone) Pulled the Plug on Their Technology and Lived to Tell the Tale," by Susan Maushart. Quite a long title for a small paperback, eh? I wasn't taking the book too seriously. The "disconnect" was simply Maushart turning the electricity off in her suburban home in Perth for six months. Although the book is humorous, I did not not put much faith in a temporary "disconnect." However, when I read the chapter about boredom, my entire viewpoint of the book changed. Maushart now has me captivated.

I have often felt that I have been the victim of long-term boredom, particularly within the framework of the urban nomad routine. Yet, I have to wonder? Am I really afflicted by boredom or by rote? I am seriously constrained by my finances, but I am not altogether sure whether I am chronically bored. For example, I have yet to tire of my daily trips to the library. I sit in the inner courtyard. Whether I read a book or lapse in and out of a coma, I not discontented. From a winner's point of view, the latter activity could easily be construed as boring. I am, however, not a winner. I'll leave it at that for now.

Angry Monks

Although I lamented about being sick and tired of the urban nomad routine, there are no other options. I don't own any pairs of "power" shoes. Thus, I cannot return to the insatiable quest for the empire's so-called "American Dream." I had a moment of weakness yesterday when I realized that I am fighting a steep uphill battle alone. I am surrounded by dreamers, people (or fools) who believe that they are going to strike it rich at any time. Even the homeless envision the day that they will return to the so-called "mainstream." Is there no end to the madness?

I neglected to mention that the table computer has been been a $500 disappointment. That's why it is currently deprecated. Hawked as the "first professional tablet," the BlackBerry® PlayBook® has little to offer since its introduction two months ago. My main complaint is the pathetic spreadsheet "app." It's totally useless. There's no way to increase the column width, for one thing. The exact same spreadsheet "app" on my old Palm® TX was way better. So, what happened? The only advancement so far is a Facebook® "app." What good is that? I can't even access Hulu® on the damned thing. The popular complaint from users is that the tablet computer does not have native e-mail, PIM "apps," and Angry Birds. What a crock of shit! What we have here is an angry monk. Sheesh!

Homeless Homeys

At the library, I ran into my homeless buddy. I haven't seen him in a week or so. He told me that the homeless population has exploded. In Honolulu proper, there are now 8,000 homeless. Just before he left on his trip to Asia, there were 5,000 homeless in the city. One year prior, there were only 3,000 homeless. That's why I have seen so many new faces on the street. Mind you, we are only talking about the city itself. My homeless buddy also mentioned that the law banning the feeding of the homeless has passed. Yeah, it's against the law to feed the impoverished. The local powers-that-be have stated that the purpose of the law is to force the homeless to go to designated shelters. Yet, there's not enough room in the shelters as it is.

So, what's really going on? I believe that the Honolulu homeless population is being intentionally and literally starved into criminality. Theft will obviously be on the rise. Thus, a large number of the homeless will end up incarcerated. Since there is a shortage of prison cells, the homeless convicts will then be shipped off to contract prisons on the mainland. When they are eventually released, they will be stranded in Arkansas or some other dump. Out of sight, out of mind.

The increasing hostility toward the homeless could not have come at a worst time since I still consider homelessness a viable option. However, when the food handouts disappear, life on the streets is going to take a turn for the worse. The local powers-that-be, all wearing their "power" shoes, have been beating down the destitute and homeless incessantly. The economically disenfranchised group has nothing to lose at this point. I would not be surprised if an urban war breaks out in the near future.

On a side note, I can safely say that I am sick and tired of the urban nomad routine. I literally feel like a zombie. And, my mind is beginning to turn to mush. On the other hand, I do not want to return to the so-called "mainstream" life-style. I do not want to chase the elusive "American Dream" ever again. That's a game for winners, not losers. Unfortunately, being a pariah has little in the way of social benefits. I am an outcast. I have absolutely nothing pressing to do. I have no friends and few acquaintances. I have no social life. I have no hobbies, no interests, no religion, no recognized political affiliation (i.e., socialist). My life sadly revolves around my netbook (i.e., composing the "blog," watching "Firefly" and "Hawai'i Five-O" on Hulu®, downloading hurdy-gurdy flicks, listening to Deep House). And, I am growing old rapidly. Very rapidly.

Enmity

Usual Hawai'i Kai routine. According to moms and my sister-in-law, my bro just purchased a brand new Toyota® Prerunner truck, fully loaded with all of the amenities. He'll be using it as a "work" truck on construction sites. I just hope that he's emotionally prepared for when the new truck gets its first scratch or dent.

Toyota® Tacoma Prerunner

Since I am tying up loose ends, I should briefly discuss the "family" situation. Although I have had more exposure to my bro's family, I do not believe that much has changed. There is still enmity between my bro and I. Nothing will ever change that. Since I no longer concern myself with the logistics of familial discord, I will not even venture to guess where the problems lie. We are in a "plane of coexistence," which is the best that any of us can ask for. My only decision even remotely related to the matter deals with the period after moms' passing. I want to quickly settle any business. Then, I will move on to wherever I have hopefully decided by then. I do not expect to maintain contact with any of my relatives. My "disappearance" will be the best option for me. That will be the final phase of the exodus as I foresee it.

Well, another episode of my favoorite tube series, "Firefly," should be released tonight on Hulu®. That's my only comfort in a vastly uncomfortable world. Sheesh!

Wasteland Redux

Same ol' shit, just like yesterday. Yet, time keeps passing by rapidly. Surreal, isn't it? Am I emotionally moved to make relevant changes? Not really.

By official count, the number of "blog" readers has dropped down to about two per day, if even that. I have been waiting for this moment with bated breath. Since nothing ever changes, a brief synopsis is in order. I will continue:

• Visiting moms in Hawai'i Kai twice per week, usually on Monday and Friday. If a holiday occurs on one of those days, then the visit will be moved up to Wednesday. The routine will always be the same.
• Restoring my extreme monk haircut every 21 days.

All other days, same ol' shit. Previous "blog" post can provide rote details, just in case I no longer delineate on the latter.

While I am tying up all loose ends, I should also provide the current Slob Manor (read: rental housing) cast profiles. The new babe moved in the attached studio yesterday. Baby is actually a hottie from what I could see of her. She doesn't look like she's a 45 years old divorcée. She's definitely a haole, mainland-style. Her friends have all been visiting her, definitely mainland haoles as well. Kyle is a local, of mixed ancestry. He is twenty-something and an avid surfer. He obviously does not fit into the Slob Manor mold. Joker, whose profile is already well established, is a local Asian. He's also my age. Alan, whose profile is known, is a 58-year-old transplanted haole from the Midwest. Slob Manor, a vast wasteland.

Wasteland (Reprise)

Same ol' shit ... errr, not exactly. Almost the same ol' shit. I followed the urban nomad kind-of-a-Sunday" routine because I just couldn't fathom the thought of hanging around Kahala Mall. Essentially the day was wasted. My sole purpose in leaving my squalid room at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) is to perform my usual workout at the gym. My morning coffee is also important. However, most of my time is wasted either waiting for or riding the bus.

While in town, I happened to stumble through the homeless food line in the little park across from Chinatown Gateway Plaza. No, I did not partake of the food. I happened to notice that a large number of library "patrons" were in line. I also noticed that the entire serving staff consisted of gorgeous young hotties. Strange things. Frankly, I contemplated participation in the food free-for-all, not because of the young hotties. Rather, I am rapidly approaching the point of insolvency. I need all the help that I can get. Sheesh!

Speaking of insolvency, I have noticed that the detestable "condotel" management, Aqua Resorts, has been engaged in cryptic accounting practices as of late. More and more deductions, seemingly undocumented, are being made. There are no invoices, no statements, no addendums to the monthly report. All I see is the same mysterious "FFE deduction" for $100 each month. Aqua is also committed to spending more of the "condotel" owners' money to refurbish the units, even though the hotel rental rates are way below the rates for a sleazy roadside motel on the mainland. Right now, my monthly revenue stream is less than one-third of the mortgage and condo maintenance fee. By the end of the year, I am expecting the revenue stream to dip below $200 per month. That's right. The situation in Waikiki is so bad that anyone can get a room for $15 or less night right now. That's why I will be standing in the homeless food line very soon.

Since I tying up loose ends, I should mention that I will not be posting any more pictures of young hotties once the current crop is depleted. It's too much trouble for nothing. And, even with the pictures of young hotties, the number of visitors to the "blog" has still dropped significantly.