Squandered Life

I was on my way to Hawai'i Kai by 7:20am this morning. I attempted to intercept moms at the bus stop and give her a ride to town. The sky looked ominous, and I did not want moms to have to deal with a sudden downpour. To my surprise, moms apparently rode an even earlier bus. I stopped off at Safeway® in Kuapa Kai to purchase a cup of coffee. The air-filled energy bars were sold out, so I settled for a blueberry muffin. I ran into Denny and his wife in the checkout line. They live with Denny's mother in moms' 'hood. After completing my brunch in the parking lot, I drove my Nissan® Frontier truck back to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) and parked it hastily on the side street. I had passes a bus on its way to town.

Fortunately, I was expedient enough to make my way to the bus stop in time. Once I arrived in town, I stopped by Safeway® again to purchase another cup of coffee and one air-filled energy bar. I needed the second cup of coffee because I was groggy, I told myself. I noticed that the apparently unleavened energy bar was smaller in size than usual. Less air, I suppose.

I walked to the library to fulfill my homeless guy emulation quest. I did not see the old local homeless guy in Kamali'i Park. He most likely sought shelter because of the heavy rain last night. The walk through the Capitol district was refreshing. The air was pristine and crisp. I admired the banyan trees along the way. I situated myself at one of the tables along the periphery of the inner courtyard. The restrooms were bustling with activity, mostly because of the homeless crowd.

I continued to reflect upon the situation with moms. Although I have visited a number of possible scenarios for the immediate future, I can see that I am not fully prepared for most of them. In my mind, moms will be around forever and be relatively healthy. Yet, the latter is far from reality. Moms is now in the most vulnerable years of her life. Anything can happen, and the outcome will most likely not be good.

There are other issue at stake. In the case that something tragic occurs, how long will it take my bro to contact me, if at all? And, how much of the financial burden will he assume, if at all? I already know my own commitments in that respect.

I am further burdened by my inability to meet my own timeline. I must be free of all long-term obligations as soon as possible. The "condotel" unit remains as the sole anchor that is going to impede the progression of my goals. I have vowed to maintain a skeleton version of the status quo as long as moms is around. Beyond that, I expect to exit society immediately. I do not want residual ties or obligations to keep me trapped where I no longer want to be.

There are days that I come close to breaking down and sobbing because I not want the inevitable to come. Yet, the days of all eventualities will arrive. There are certain facts of life that are unavoidable. My life will change drastically from that point forward. I see moms growing older and more frail, just as I witnessed pops going through the same ordeal. I reflect upon the latter every day, and it does make me sad. My only consolation is that I was not so foolish so as to shirk my responsibility to honor my parents.

As for me, I am not expecting much more than I have now from my life. I will most likely continue to exist in mendicant obscurity. There really is not much for me to do or accomplish. What purpose would that serve? Perhaps my only remaining goal would be to try to recapture my lost innocence and live out my years rejoicing in the Creation.

I have come to realize that I have squandered most of my lifetime on trivial pursuits, be it education, wage slavery, money, babes, and so forth. All of it was meaningless. All I have are cheesy memories, if even that. I have fretted over the state of humanity as it affects the state of the world and ultimately the state of the planet. Why? Humanity is ruled by the sinister kahuna and is festered with its disciples, satanic gargoyles one and all. I have fought the good fight, but I will lose in the end. That is why the Good Book admonished, "Do not store up treasures in the world ..." The latter is fleeting and is totally meaningless in the face of mortality. There is absolutely no security in the secular world. The epidemic of the "seven sins" is so pervasive and so entrenched that nothing short of a Higher Power can put an end to it. We are discussing the force of evil, something well beyond what we call a "religious struggle." Evil is a force that can tear the universe apart were it not for a Higher Power. Prior to becoming a force, evil was simply the conceptualized negation of good works. Once its ideas were adopted, nurtured, and implemented, evil became a living force, not just a personification. That is why its power can continue to grow. When humans embrace evil, they may never muster up enough mortal strength to subdue it, no less escape its grip. Evil is synergistic. Thus, there is a point of no return. We have been given many tools to see beyond the subterfuge that evil operates under. Yet, few desire to do so. There is only one way out - turn the other way and never look back.

By 1pm, all that could be perceived as my life was flattened to two dimensions. I could see it all as if it were printed on a sheet of paper. There was no depth. Any semblance of perspective was feigned. How much more meaningless can my life get?

I spent about four hours total in the inner courtyard of the library. Where else did I need to be? Ah, yes, the gym. I did my usual cardio workout. I felt much better. I rode the bus back to Slob Manor. Today is the last day for the old bus route. After piddling around for a while, I began feeling stir crazy. Nothing new, eh? As usual, I headed out to Kahala Mall with my final destination being my safe haven, Barnes & Noble®. I cruised around the store. The absence of the Asian hottie "bookseller" was sorely felt. At 9pm, I departed for Slob Manor on the bus. I spent the rest of the evening in my squalid room.

Incidentally, I neglected to mention that Shirley and my homey Rod in Cali called and left B-day greetings. Clyde in San Jose sent a Thanksgiving Day eCard. I was happy to hear from them.

My finances appear to be intact for now. Losses have been minimal. However, the expenses for last month will be paid later this month. I defer my expenses (usually appears in the "blog" by the 3rd of the month) for one month by using a credit card. The only true indicator will be the net worth summary for the year when it is finalized on January 31st.

"We have compared your answers with people who have been diagnosed with sex addiction. Your answers HAVE MET a score on the basis of six of the criteria that indicate sex addiction is present," was the stated result of my participation in the Sexual Addiction Screening Test. Of course, I already knew the verdict since the Vienna Sausage is still fully operational. No Cialis® required. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaa!

Rain

Moms called early this morning and left a message. Moms invited me for lunch and asked if I would pick up some hot dog buns at the store. Rain was coming down fairly heavy just prior to my departure at 9am. I stopped by Safeway® in Kuapa Kai to purchase the hot dog buns and a cup of coffee. Then, I withdrew $40 from the auto-teller at my local bank. Next stop was the Satellite City Hall. I purchased a bus pass for December. I looked for the new bus schedules, but none were available. The only reason that I had obtained copies of the new bus schedules was because the driver of the bus that I usually ride at night to Kahala Mall was thoughtful enough to to distribute them. I finally reached my destination at 10am. Moms was home awaiting my arrival. Shortly afterward, the rain stopped.

I spent most of the time chatting with moms. Moms had gone to the eye doctor yesterday and discovered that her actual appointment was today. However, blood was discovered behind moms' right eye. So, moms has an appointment tomorrow with her regular physician. Once again, moms showed me where all of her important paperwork was located in case anything happens. Given this new development, I began to wonder if moms subconsciously knows something more about her health.

Moms made hot dogs for my lunch and also made a bowl of saimin for herself. After lunch, coffee ice cream as served up for dessert.I chatted with moms until 12:15pm. I drove back to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) and parked my truck on the side street. I was able to board a bus heading to town within a few minutes. I spent about 45 minutes in the inner courtyard of the library. I became more and more concerned about moms. What could be the cause of the bleeding? Is the problem with moms' eye, or is there a hematoma? I reflected on the fact that moms has been diligently putting her affairs in order. Just the other week, moms made a special trip to the Hosoi Mortuary to review her funeral plan. Moms also briefly went over the plan with me.

I walked to the gym at 2:15pm. I did my usual workout, but my mind was preoccupied. I had often thought that I was prepared for the day that both my parents would be gone. However, I am not as prepared as I thought. I also wondered whether I subconsciously detected something as well. Why else would I be so adamant about spending more time with moms, even if it means that I will deplete my life savings? I rode the bus back to Slob Manor. I piddled around for a while, although my heart was not much into piddling. I also performed the dreaded laundry chores.

Naturally, I had to make a run for my safe haven, Barnes & Noble®. First, I walked around Kahala Mall. There was a variety of live entertainment tonight on the center stage. My enjoyment of the latter entertainment was ruined by the myriad of unruly kids running amuck with no apparent supervision. The Asian hottie "bookseller" was on duty at the bookstore. Baby was wearing a dress, and she was looking extremely hot. Eventually, I had to return to Slob Manor. Oh, the horror!

Within a few minutes, a downpour ensued. I had contemplated staying at the mall a little longer. Thank goodness that I didn't. Of course, what have I got to do at Slob Manor? Watch the ants and roaches crawling around? Sheesh!

Ol' Lavahead Day 2007

This year, Ol' Lavahead Day marks a turning point, and not a good one. Another year has gone by, and the ol' lavahead's time on the planet has been reduced by the same quantity. Instead of making progress toward the exodus, he has foolishly turned the tables on himself. He is caught in a crushing financial trap that will eventually bleed him dry. He is still tempted by hotties that he cannot have. And, he is thwarted at every turn to free himself of the madness. What is he to do?

That was not how it was meant to be. On the contrary, a happy ending with the ol' lavahead living the consummate life of the contrarian hero was the order of the day of the past. Whether the ol' lavahead chose either path in the forked road was inconsequential. He could have become a satanic gargoyle, living in the lap of luxury with a young hottie, big bank, big house, and big Vienna Sausage. Or, he could have easily faded into the woodwork as an obscure monk with a near-zero ecological footprint and an invisible persona. As long as "freedom" was the common denominator, the ol' lavahead could claim success. However, at 53 years of age, the ol' lavahead has slipped into a purgatory of enslavement to multiple masters, with each day chipping away at what little "freedom" he has. How could it have come to this?

How could everything have gone so terribly wrong for one solitary individual? And, why was he meant to suffer? A long time ago, a young and naïve lavahead became entrenched in worldly ways. He lived a treacherous and meaningless life, always in pursuit of pleasure and vanity. He was blessed back then by a gluttonous life of plenty. Even hotties made themselves available to him. In his later years, he realized why he was always able to avoid disaster. Inadvertently, he was serving his master, the sinister kahuna (aka El Diablo). By default, he was a disciple of the sinister one. At the exact point in time of the latter revelation, the ol' lavahead took heed to the admonition offered in the Good Book: "If your hand betrays you, cut it off. If your eye betrays you, pull it out." Cutting himself off from the world, in essence from the temple of the sinister kahuna, would exact a heavy price. At 53 years of age, the ol' lavahead maintains his singular wit in opposition to the forces of evil and the Dark Side. In the physical world, the battle pits the ol' lavahead against all satanic gargoyles, the earthly disciples of the sinister one. The battle began many moons ago, but the war wages on. To eternity, the war must continue. The ol' lavahead will never return to the life of debauchery. He will never partake of the poisonous elixir in the chalice of darkness. Will the ol' lavahead continue to suffer at the hands of his arch nemesis? Will he continue the struggle in the name of the exodus? Will he stay true to the bitter end?

I departed for Hawai'i Kai at 10am this morning. My first stop was Safeway® in Kuapa Kai to obtain my required morning cup of coffee. At 10:20am, I drove to the Hawai'i Kai Towne Center. I parked my truck and sat outside Costco® with my cup of coffee. Lori was a few minutes late. When she arrived, she looked curiously around the periphery of the oversized cranium. "I'm looking for signs of age," she said, laughing. I brought the pair of new glasses that I never worn. The lenses are held in place by what appears to be nylon line, of which one had snapped. Lori suggested that we see if the Costco® optical department could do the repair. Sure enough, the optician was able to repair it and for no charge. I was extremely overjoyed.

I rode with Lori in her car back to Kuapa Kai. We ate lunch at The Shack. I had a greasy Island Burger with Freedom French Fries. Lori had a bowl of chili and rice. Lori also persuaded me to drop back a couple of excellent brewskis. We chatted until 1:30pm. Lori gave me a ride back to my truck. I drove back to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) and parked my truck on the side street. I caught a ride part way to town with Lori. We were able to chat for a little longer. Lori's destination was the Ward Center. I thanked her lunch and was on my way to town on the bus.

Once in town, I headed straight for the gym. I did my usual workout. Then, I rode the bus back to Slob Manor. After piddling around for a while, I was on my way to Kahala Mall on the bus at 7pm. I walked around the mall aimlessly, as most senior citizens are accustomed to doing. I finally purchased a smoothie at Jamba Juice®. Then, I made my way to my safe haven, Barnes & Noble®. No Asian hottie "bookseller" tonight. Boohoo. What a horrible way to end Ol' Lavahead Day!

Even worse, I had to return to my squalid room in Slob Manor, a place where the ol' lavahead is being wrongfully ostracized as a "snitch" for the landlord. Oh Lord, can it get any dumber than that? Alas, Ol' Lavahead Day has come gone. A few more sands have fallen in the hourglass of mortality. "Oh, the vanity," the ol' lavahead gasped, just as King Solomon did when he uttered the very same words in Hebrew many hundreds of moons ago.

Out and About

I was awakened by what sounded like thunder and lighting this morning. Sure enough, there was a major downpour. Moms had called and left a message that she wanted to meet me Ala Moana Center. I had to persuade moms that it was best to postpone the trip because of the weather. I drove out to Hawai'i Kai at 9pm. The weather began to clear up. Moms and I drove to Longs® in Kuapa Kai instead. I purchased a cup of coffee at the Safeway® across the way while moms was shopping. We also stopped by Foodland in Koko Marina so that moms could do some grocery shopping. We picked up spaghetti plate lunches from Zippy's. After lunch, moms served up coffee ice cream. I was able to chat with moms for a while. Lately, the discussions have been less trivial, most of it dealing with family issues.

I walked down to the gym in Koko Marina at 1pm. After a nice workout, I walked back to say good-bye to moms. I ended up chatting with moms for another 20 minutes. I also called Lori because I did not reply to her e-mail of a few days ago. We agreed to meet at Kahala Mall later in the afternoon. I stopped off at the Payless® shoe store at the Hawai'i Kai Towne Center on my out of Hawai'i Kai. I am looking for a cheap pair of canvas shoes. Then, I drove back to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) to drop off the goodies that moms had given me.

I drove to Kahala Mall and parked my truck. I made my way to Barnes & Noble®. Lori arrived a few minutes later. We sat in the café. Lori sipped tea, and I had a cup of decaffeinated coffee to keep me occupied. We chatted until about 6pm. There was a lot of news to catch up with. Lori wants to go surfng again. Heck, Slob Manor is right across the street from a decent surf spot. The Asian hottie "bookseller" was on duty, by the way. Baby was looking hot. Lori gave me a ride back to the vicinity of Slob Manor so we could continue chatting. I left my truck at Kahala Mall.

Once back in Slob Manor, I piddled around for a few minutes. Then, I was off to Kahala Mall on the bus. Upon alighting the bus, I walked directly to my safe haven, Barnes & Noble®. Sadly, the Asian hottie "bookseller" was already gone. I spent an hour there before driving my truck back to Slob Manor.

Can I call Slob Manor my home? Baha! Ha! Haaa! What a laugh! Although, I must admit that it has a few home-like touches like scores of roaches and ants thanks to all the garbage strewn about. I have been sleeping in my new $14 sleeping bag. To be perfectly honest, I have not sleep better in a long time. I must still use ear plugs, however. What more can I say about the dump?

Invisible Hand (Reprise)

Another homeless guy kind-of-a-day found me in town at 10:40am. The bus was 20 minutes late this morning. I had to bake in the hot sun for those long 20 minutes. The old local homeless guy was sitting on the dividing wall in Kamali'i Park when I walked through on my way to Safeway®. He was joined by a couple of familiar halfway house derelicts. On my back through Kamali'i Park, the old local homeless guy asked me, "Poppa, can you sell me one cigarette?" Just a few minutes prior, a young haole guy asked me for money. He claimed that he just got out of jail and needed bus fare. He was probably a new halfway house derelict.

Even though the day was overcast, the ambient temperature was above my comfort zone. The high humidity is the culprit. I changed from my t-shirt to a tank top once I arrived at the library. I almost tore the t-shirt because it had adhered to my perspiration-soaked skin. Fortunately, I carry everything in my little gym bag. That's a practical lesson that I learned from the homeless.

The inner courtyard of the library remains as sole daytime sanctuary. Peace, quiet, and solitude is what I need. I am convinced that I am precariously close to the edge of sanity. That is why I seek out any refuges with a calming ambiance. That is also why I have not made a concerted effort to return to wage slavery. In my fragile mental state, I must avoid any confrontational and demeaning environment.

I am, however, whittling away at my savings at an increasingly accelerated pace. Frankly, I have lost the will to be concerned. Uncle Tosh's situation has jogged my memory of my original plan to retire broke. Because of health issues, most of us will end up broke in our so-called "golden years." That's the "system" at work. The only possible way to avoid financial trauma is to purchase all kinds of insurance plans. Yet, there's no guarantee that the insurance carrier will still be around or whether the policies will cover the ever-increasing costs. With my paltry savings, I would most likely be broke by 70 years of age anyway due to projected medical expenses since Medicare will not provide any coverage until all financial resources are depleted. By the way, Medicare, like Social Security are unfunded obligations. In other words, there is no money specifically placed in trust. It's all "pay 'n go." One would need at least $3 million in liquid assets to retire without concern. For me, that's a lost cause.

Incidentally, there's another hottie working at the library. Baby looks a little bookworm-ish, but under that subterfuge lies a real hottie. I spent a couple of hours at the library, the last of which I lapsed in and out of a coma. Gym time was at 2:30pm. I did my usual workout. Then, I endured another hour-plus bus ride back to Slob Manor (read: rental housing).

I ended up at Kahala Mall again tonight. No surprise, eh? I purchased a loaf of bread at Longs®. Then, I had to seek refuge in my safe haven, Barnes & Noble®. The Asian hottie "bookseller" was on duty. Baby was looking hot, but we already knew that. I was back in Slob Manor by 9:10pm. Same ol' shit.

Well, I can fully understand how the Fed and the government bullhorns are able to lie through their teeth and get away with it. An example is the totally bogus low inflation statistics. The average satanic gargoyle possesses elementary school arithmetic skills. It's so bad that I cannot use the term, "mathematical skills." Even worse is the understanding of basic statistics, probability, and economics. With so much ignorance and stupidity amongst the general populace, it's easy to see why few refute the two percent "core" inflation measure. The real weakness is evident in critical thinking skills which would compel the bearer to question the validity of the criteria to determine the bogus statistics for inflation, unemployment, growth of the economy, and so forth. Then again, if the general populace had possessed even rudimentary critical thinking skills, we probably would not be engaged in the quagmires of Iraq and Afghanistan today.

Higher order mathematical skills are crucial in developing logical thought processes, conceptual blockbusting, and critical thinking. Reading comprehension is also a factor. It is my belief that, short of having $3 million in liquid assets, perfecting the aforementioned skills will be the sole determinant of who survives the upcoming fray of the secular Apocalypse.

The secular Apocalypse is coming, my friends. We have already reached Peak Oil. And, as energy sources deplete, the idiots want to convert to "biofuels." Thus, we must divert food crops to the production of fuel to propel the ubiquitous 4000-pound motorized chair (read: automobile). I, for one, cannot understand the logic of placing the 4000-pound motorized chair at the center of importance. Starving is a better option than walking? Peak Oil will affect agriculture, since modern agriculture can only be sustained by artificial means.

We are, in essence, barreling straight for the cliff. Without cheap energy, the planet can only sustain a population of 2.5 billion maximum. I suppose that the elite class has it all figured out. After we destroy the whole of human civilization (term used loosely), they will somehow rise out of the ashes and rebuild their perfect elite society. Frankly, I have no faith in humanity. We cannot save ourselves. Not even the elite class with all their worthless paper money can save themselves. Our future is in the hand of the Almighty.

When Economic Worlds Collide

I was at Kahala Mall by 9am this morning. I did a little shopping at Longs® first. Then, I purchased a small cup of coffee at the Barnes & Noble® Café. I perused a few magazines for about an hour. I met moms at 10:30am. Instead of eating lunch at the mall, moms and I drove back to Hawai'i Kai. Moms prepared leftover turkey for lunch. Coffee ice cream was served up for dessert. I was able to chat with moms for a while. Moms mentioned that Uncle Tosh will be going back home from the hospital in a few days. However, Aunty Maria will not be able to provide the kind of critical care that he needs. Medicare will not pay for a stay in a convalescent home unless Uncle Tosh and Aunty Maria are flat broke. In other words, they will have to deplete whatever retirement nest egg that they have and possibly sell off their condo first. I am not sure how that is going to play out.

I also weighed myself on moms' scale. Yikes! I have lost about 12 pounds in the last year or so. I am becoming emaciated. Sheesh! I am down to 142 pounds, which is what I weighed back about 20 years ago when I was in the best shape in my life. However, that means my body fat is way low, probably too low. No wonder I cannot get any respect at the gym. I am a skinny wimp faggot.

After saying good-bye to moms, I was off to town. i first parked my truck on the side street next to Slob Manor (read: rental housing). Then, I baked in the hot sun until the bus arrived. I was in town before 2:30pm. I did my usual workout. Another long bus ride brought me back to Slob Manor.

The Indian guy, whom I share the upstairs portion of the house, has filled the whole refrigerator full of crap in the past two days. I only have room for a loaf of bread and a carton of milk. The moron is obviously playing childish games with me. He and the other housemates want to force me out because they suspect that I am the "snitch" who is passing information to the landlord. They can play all the games they want, as long as they do not tamper with my belongings. That's when the games will end very quickly.

I realize that when I was a college-aged fool, I was involved in the "soap opera" and drama of my small little world, the one that I thought revolved around me. The vanity and stupidity, in retrospect, was detestable. Had I been more mature, I would not be in the predicament that I am in today. These young fools, on the other hand, are destined to become true losers. They are too arrogant to see their own faults. I should feel pity for them, but I don't. They are living in their small worlds where only they are important. They are the stars of their own "reality" shows, and celebrities only in their own minds.

I was on my way to Kahala Mall at 7pm. My first stop was Longs® again. I purchased a couple of packages of Diamond Bakery® cookies. Moms used to give those to me for snacks a long time ago. I also purchased another pack of M&M's® candy. Then, I walked around the mall. The candy brought joy to my heart. I ended up at my safe haven, Barnes & Noble®, to top off the evening. The Asian hottie "bookseller" was on duty. Baby was wearing a short black dress. Oh baby! My mind almost snapped. The thought of returning to Slob Manor sobered me up pretty quick. I will spend the rest of the evening in my squalid little room. Yep, same ol' shit.

All bets are on the Fed lowering short-term interest rates by at least 0.5 percent. I am revising my own expectation to one full percentage point. We are currently in a recession,one that is being refuted with doctored-up statistics. The goal of the Fed is to pump up the stock market because it is the one and only, tried and true "bubble" that keeps on giving. With the collapse of the so-called "real estate bubble," there is little choice. Pensions, mutual funds, 401(k)s,and the like are heavily invested in "casino finance," the stock market being the mainstay. The liquidity" (i.e., money) is being created electronically. It did not exist until it was created out of thin air. There is no value behind it because it just appeared from nowhere. It was not the result of anything produced. Thus, it will devalue the dollar further and create inflation. Costs of goods and services rise and we see real inflation.

On the other hand, the collapse of the housing market is seeing drastic decreases in home prices. For upper middle class folk, the home is 30 percent of their net worth. For the rank-and-file peon, the house (if the peon "owns" one) may be the entire net worth. Home prices fall and net worth decreases. We call the latter deflation. As Bill Bonner of the Daily Reckoning sees it, we are heading for a collision between inflation and deflation. Then, when the Fed lowers interest rates below two percent, the B-2 stealth bombers will be winging their way to Iran.

Emaciation

Another homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-day with the exception that the library was not open. Gym time was at 12:30pm. The hottie gym trainer was working with a gym member. Baby was looking so fine. I ran into Austin, another former Diploma Mill student. We chatted for a few minutes. I did my usual workout. To my surprise, I noted that I am becoming emaciated. Well, not exactly emaciated. I am becoming leaner as I lose more body fat. Even more surprising is that my general physique is almost identical to what it was ten years ago when I was at the apex of my gym tenure. I reflected on my commitment to physical training. I have maintained a regular exercise regimen for over 27 years straight. Now, if only the hottie gym trainer would come around. Sheesh! I was on my way back to Slob Manor on the bus at 2:45pm.

Once back in the filthy dump, I piddled around in my squalid room for the remainder of the afternoon. I ate beans and bread for dinner. Then, at 7pm, I was of to Kahala Mall. I stopped by Longs® yet again. I purchased a loaf of King's Hawai'ian® sweet bread to stave off my emaciation. Naturally, the bread is no longer made in Hawai'i. It's made in Cali. I ended up at my safe haven, Barnes & Noble®, as to be expected. I did not stay very long, returning to Slob Manor at 8:35pm. The rest of the evening? Same ol' shit.

I am now a little more concerned about the new bus routes and how they will affect moms as well the myriad other senior citizens who live in the Hawai'i Kai area. A simple trip to Kahala Mall will require a transfer to second bus. The wait for the "circulator" bus could be as long as 20 minutes. The idea has been implemented at the regional transit hubs in Waipahu and Kapolei. Needless to say, I did not particularly care for the "circulator" routing.

Another concern has come to the forefront. I am wondering how long before moms will not be able to step up into the cab of my Nissan® Frontier truck. Obviously, this was extremely poor planning on my part. If moms becomes less ambulatory, I may have to rid myself of the truck and purchase a small van. The thought came to me because of Uncle Tosh's situation. Since he has been confined to a wheelchair, he has had to ride in a special van with an elevator lift. The $80 fare is prohibitive. Moms turns 86 years old in a few months. I have already seen moms slow down considerably in the past year. It's only going to get worse.

There's just too much on my mind lately. I've been worrying about moms, about my financial situation, the idiotic "condotel" unit, amongst other minor concerns. I, too, am growing older. I am running out of time. On second thought, maybe I am becoming emaciated.

Halfway to Nowhere

I neglected to mention that Caroll and my homey, Rod, both called and left messages on Thanksgiving Day. Unfortunately,my cell phone has absolutely no call time minutes available, so I have not been able to return the calls.

Another day of the infamous homeless guy emulation. Let's just say that it was exactly the same as yesterday. I ran into Richard, a former Diploma Mill student, at the library. We had an interesting chat. The gym was ... well, the gym. During the ride back to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) on the bus, I discovered that several major changes are to take place along the current Route 1 service area. The new daytime route will have additional "circulator" routes (i.e, Routes 231, 232, 233) which will require transferring between buses. Even the Route 58 will be changed to the new Route 23. With little else to do, I decided to perform the dreaded laundry chores while I continued to review the propaganda material about the new bus routes.

I ended up at Kahala Mall again this evening. I made the rounds and ended up at my safe haven, Barnes & Noble®. The mall was extremely crowded this evening. The Saturnalia shopping season is in full swing. Everyone was buying crap like there's going to be no tomorrow. I felt completely disconnected. Everyone seemed so happy. I began to have my doubts about whether the financial crisis really exists. Money was flowing like water all around me. I was the only poverty-stricken individual in the whole mall. Nonetheless, I enjoyed my time in my safe haven. Alas, eventually, I had to return to Slob Manor. The rest of the evening? Same ol' shit. I had to transfer $700 to my local bank in order to pay next month's rent at Slob Manor. My money market funds are rapidly depleting. Lord, have mercy!

Revolution

The sandwich was dry and bland. The pudding cake tasted like cellophane and had the consistency of cardboard. Only the Foster's® brewski was okay. So much for my Thanksgiving Day feast. I spent all night with my Toshiba® Satellite notebook computer since I had nothing else to do. Ho boy! Thus, I was eager to leave Slob Manor (read: rental housing) this morning. I departed 30 minutes earlier than usual.

I followed the usual itinerary of homeless guy emulation ... brunch courtesy Safeway®, sitting in the catacombs of Kukui Plaza, and ending up in the inner courtyard of the library. I did absolutely nothing for over two hours. Just as I was about ready to leave, I looked up and saw John from Heald College. We chatted for a few minutes. I was able to glean from him that his wife is from the Philippines. They met through some kind of Net "pen pal" site.Then, we parted company. I walked to the gym. I did my usual workout. Another fatiguing bus ride brought me back to Slob Manor.

The Indian guy was the only one home when I entered the filthy dungeon of Slob Manor. He was watching the UH football game. I piddled around for a bit before departing for Kahala Mall. I ate dinner at Taco Bell®. Yep, two Cheesy Bean and Rice Burritos. Oh man, those were the best Taco Bell® burritos that I have ever tasted. I then went shopping at Longs®. I purchased a couple of sundries and a small package of M&M's® candy. What a treat! I was really enjoying my night on the mall. Then, I realized that the place was almost empty. Everyone was at the football game. No wonder I was having a good time. I had to make an obligatory visit to my safe haven, Barnes & Noble®. No Asian hottie "bookseller." Baby was probably at the game as well. I returned to Slob Manor at 9pm. The rest of the evening will be the same old shit in my squalid room.

Incidentally, my housemates at Slob Manor are now shunning me. Frankly, I don't care. From what I am to understand, they believe that I am snitching on them to the landlord. It's obvious that I am dealing with a bunch of sophomoric twenty-somethings. They have no idea that I have no time for juvenile crap. At this point in time, my life is extremely chaotic. I could care less about the trivia and drama that make up their shallow lives. They are young and stupid. I am a seasoned old codger who is on his way out. As long as the fools leave me and my stuff alone, everything will be just fine. Really?

Everything is so out of control now that only a revolution could bring about change. What kind of revolution? Anything ... a prolonged general consumer strike as I have suggested, a violent uprising (read: insurgency), or a complete "wildcard" Presidential candidate who ends up in office. In fact, I am really sick and tired of the election crap, from the cheesy advertising to the contrived debates. Frankly, let me tell you right now that William Blum should be written in as the Presidential candidate of choice. Blum, by the way, is the author of "Rogue State: A Guide to the World's Only Superpower." We need a fresh candidate, not another career politician. And, we certainly do not need another corporate bullhorn. I'm sorry, but neither Dennis Kucinich or Ron Paul can provide the answer. William Blum is da man!

Thanksgiving Day 2007

Every year, I usually offer a few words of gratitude for my paltry existence. Yet, with each passing year, I have less and less to be thankful for. Aside from living a fairly healthy and mendicant life-style, I can safely say that everything else is slowly being robbed from me. That includes the gamut from my paltry savings to my sanity. I am living in a nation of fools, satanic gargoyles to be specific, who are hellbent on self-destruction. I have not seen general conditions degenerate as rapidly as has occurred between the year 2000 and now. As with all degenerate societies, the rot starts from within.

I find that I can no longer tolerate the culture of greed, self-centeredness, hedonism, and consumerism. The whole of society can be likened to a termite-eaten stump of wood. And, as we continue to live in morbid luxury, consuming (read: wasting) the world's resources, there are billions of people living in squalor. In addition, the empire's quest for (fill in the blank) has now caused two nations to be completely ravaged by senseless war. And, no one gives a shit! Should I be thankful for that?

Well, I can be grateful that I wasn't born a rich asshole, full of conceit and filled with a lust for power. I am thankful that I wasn't born a stud, able to charm any babe to do da wild thing. I am thankful that I have Shrub and Ben Bernanke, both working for my demise. I am thankful to be the ol' lavahead, the loser's loser, the guy who can only wish to be a third-class citizen. I have lost most of my so-called "friends," leaving me with assorted scum and parasites to deal with. I do have my virtual homeys, thank goodness. I am continuing to downsize my existence, readying myself for the exodus. I have become an invisible monk. And, I am still the Keeper. I am the Keeper of Lost Lives, one being my own.

Well, this was the first year that I was not invited somewhere for Thanksgiving Day dinner. My feelings were not hurt, by the way. Rather, I must clearly be on the right path for the exodus. In any case, I was left to my own devices for the day. I departed for town on the bus at 10am. I took a roundabout route through Waikiki, Ala Moana, and finally to town simply because I hopped on the first bus that came by. I had already been standing in the hot sun for town minutes. After alighting the bus, I walked through Kamali'i Park. The old local homeless guy was arranging three pairs of his shoes on the dividing wall to dry them out. I continued on to Safeway® to purchase my brunch. Did I give in to my coffee addiction? You bet! The whole place was filled with satanic gargoyles running amuck, no doubt shopping for last minute items for their Thanksgiving Day feast. Will they take time to remember the Iraqis and Afghans that we, as a nation, have either "homicided" or displaced? I seriously doubt it. Most likely everyone will be stuffing their faces to excess, drinking cheap booze to the point of obnoxiousness, and engaging in generally boorish behavior. Well, hey! That's the "American way"!

I sat in the catacombs of Kukui Plaza and enjoyed my brunch. The day was quite beautiful with clear blue skies, although the air was cooler than usual. I decided that I should walk around and enjoy the sunshine. I sat outside on a bench along the Makai (read: lower) end of Fort Street Mall near Bank of Hawai'i. One of the old time homeless guy sat on a bench behind me. The idiotic security guard positioned himself about 25 feet in front of me in a less than discretionary manner. When I got up to cross the street to go to the gym, the idiotic security guard also dispersed. What a maroon! Little did the fool realize that the Bank of Hawai'i holds my mortgage. I am far from being homeless at this point in time.

I did my usual workout st the gym. I am thankful that the gym was open today until 4pm. I was able to board a bus immediately upon my departure from the gym. I arrived back at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) at 3:30pm. I had thought of simply having a can of beans with bread for dinner, nothing unusual for me even on Thanksgiving Day. With so much time on my hands, I decided to ride the bus to Koko Marina. I had enough time to look around Foodland until the next bus arrived. I purchased a crummy sandwich, a piece of pudding cake, and a big-ass can of Foster's® brewski. Oh, what a Thanksgiving Day one-man feast I am going to have! Throw in some House Music courtesy DI.FM, and I'm good to go! Well, that's the Ol' Lavahead's Thanksgiving Day Special. The rest of the day? Same ol' shit, of course!