Another urban nomad kind-of-a-day has been lost in time. I spent three hours in the inner courtyard of the library. I commenced reading the book, "Persian Mirrors: The Elusive Face of Iran," by Elaine Sciolino. The book covers the period after the Iranian Revolution of 1979 and begins with the presidency of Mohammed Khatami. So far, the book has been slanting toward an empire-oriented point-of-view. However, I have become fairly good at detecting crap. I also lapsed in and out of a coma a number of times.
I did my usual workout at the gym. Then, I dutifully returned to Slob Manor (read: rental housing). Like a robot, I performed the dreaded laundry chores. The rest of the day and evening will be the same ol' urban nomad shit.
Tourist arrivals in Hawai'i was down 14 percent last month according to the Star-Bulletin. That has caused a selling panic at the Aloha Surf Hotel. "Condotel" unit listings overall have increased exponentially. I believe that most of the Aloha Surf units are now up for sale, all at "fire sale" prices. Some owners are apparently willing to take $40,000-plus losses just to dump their units. That's just downright foolish. So far, none of the "loss leaders" have sold. No one is buying. So, when are those clowns going to get a clue?
Will the economy in Hawai'i eventually falter? That's hard to say. I have not observed any significant changes or indicators to that effect. Bus ridership has leveled off and may be declining to levels of a few months ago. I had serious doubts that the 4000-pound motorized chair (read: automobile) set would last very long with mass transit. Everywhere I look, people are spending money like true crazy satanic gargoyles, even though the cost of consumer items have skyrocketed. The drop in tourism should eventually cause a downward spiral in employment. Although home prices remain fairly high, there has been a drop in both prices and sales. I would assume that property tax revenues will also drop, which will cause a loss in government jobs and services. I assume that the satanic gargoyles will continue to barrel along until they crash into a wall. That appears to be modus operandi across the nation.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Urban Nomad (Reprise)
Another morning of indecision nearly paralyzed my homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-day. I finally decided that I would board the 9:45am Route 1L bus heading toward town. If I decided to alight in Aina Haina, then I would follow my alternative itinerary. Otherwise, I would proceed to town. As it turned out, I kept going all the way to town. Thus, my homeless guy itinerary was exactly the same as yesterday.
I have been eating my granola brunch prior to my departure, which has the added benefit of lightening my gym bag payload. However, my revised protocol has moved me further away from the homeless guy emulation. In fact, I am moving toward the urban nomadic emulation. I am simply a lost soul transporting myself from place to place. A true homeless guy must vacate the homeless shelter at the crack of dawn and cannot return until the evening. He must carry all of his worldly possessions with him. He must eat on the run. I, on the other hand, have been attempting to minimize my outward exposure. Hence, from this point forward, I am no longer a homeless guy emulator. I am an urban nomad.
I spent another three hours in the inner courtyard of the library. I finally completed the reading of the book, "My Turn to Speak," by Abolhassan Bani-Sadr. As I recall, Bani-Sadr was often made out to be a buffoon when he was President of Iran. However, I have now come to realize that he is a political intellectual. His analysis and critique of the Islamic Revolution of 1979 and the resultant Islamic government is thought-provoking. Political philosophy and revolution are, in essence, quite complex schools of thought. I plan to continue my readings about Iran.
I did my usual workout at the gym. Then, I returned to Slob Manor (read: rental housing). Throughout the day, I pondered the ramifications of being an urban nomad and an urban monk. What does such a life-style entail? Obviously, I had already adopted the life-style many moons ago. Along the way, though, I became distracted by shiny objects and succumbed to my own foolishness. Essentially, I lost my way. Now, I'm back.
I should list a few random urban nomad considerations:
I have been eating my granola brunch prior to my departure, which has the added benefit of lightening my gym bag payload. However, my revised protocol has moved me further away from the homeless guy emulation. In fact, I am moving toward the urban nomadic emulation. I am simply a lost soul transporting myself from place to place. A true homeless guy must vacate the homeless shelter at the crack of dawn and cannot return until the evening. He must carry all of his worldly possessions with him. He must eat on the run. I, on the other hand, have been attempting to minimize my outward exposure. Hence, from this point forward, I am no longer a homeless guy emulator. I am an urban nomad.
I spent another three hours in the inner courtyard of the library. I finally completed the reading of the book, "My Turn to Speak," by Abolhassan Bani-Sadr. As I recall, Bani-Sadr was often made out to be a buffoon when he was President of Iran. However, I have now come to realize that he is a political intellectual. His analysis and critique of the Islamic Revolution of 1979 and the resultant Islamic government is thought-provoking. Political philosophy and revolution are, in essence, quite complex schools of thought. I plan to continue my readings about Iran.
I did my usual workout at the gym. Then, I returned to Slob Manor (read: rental housing). Throughout the day, I pondered the ramifications of being an urban nomad and an urban monk. What does such a life-style entail? Obviously, I had already adopted the life-style many moons ago. Along the way, though, I became distracted by shiny objects and succumbed to my own foolishness. Essentially, I lost my way. Now, I'm back.
I should list a few random urban nomad considerations:
- Divestiture. The sale or donation of my useless possessions (i.e., items that are being stored, not used) should be accomplished before the end of the year. Only the most useful items (as detailed yesterday in the "blog") will be maintained.
- Localization. The possibility of localizing my nomadic route should be considered. Rerouting my mail to a mailbox in the Aina Haina Post Office will remove the need to travel to town. I could actually walk to Aina Haina, by the way. I could also limit my gym workouts to the gym in Hawai'i Kai. As an old codger, I no longer need any specialized weight training equipment. By localizing to the Aina Haina and Hawai'i Kai locale, I could stop riding the bus. If the cost of a bus pass increases, the latter option would become effective immediately.
- Simplification. I must continue to innovate "extreme simplification" procedures. In other words, I must effectively move backwards in time. My reliance on modern amenities must cease. I must return to the basics. And, I must prepare for the final exodus.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Planning for Calamity
Another evening with the gale force winds left me tormented. Even with the louvers shut, the gusty winds were so strong that the curtains were literally floating on air. Dirt and dust was swirling about. All the while, the myriad carpenter ants were scurrying about. Welcome to Slob Manor (read: rental housing), my friends.
I spent part of the evening contemplating which of my possessions could be potentially useful, that is, of what possessions that I have remaining. I am probably inclined to believe that my Nissan® Frontier truck is a useful, albeit costly, possession. In the event that I become completely homeless, not just a homeless guy emulator, then I would have a "mobile home." Recall that a custom tent is available that fits right on the rear bed. Many former homeowners in Cali are realizing the usefulness of their 4000-pound motorized chairs (read: automobiles) turned "mobile homes."
My Toshiba® Satellite notebook computer is presently a useful possession. It is the command center for my entire operation. Its usefulness runs the gamut of total communications to hurdy-gurdy "torrent" retrieval to managing my small empire.
Then, there is my Nova® Spirit Electronic Restraining Device (ERD). There's been a lot of news coverage about the devices. Most notorious are the actual Taser® models which use a gas cartridge to propel wired electrodes onto the intended victim. The Nova® Spirit, on the other hand, is a non-intrusive contact device. In any case, an Nova® ERD will come in handy as a deterrent to "undesirables" when the collapse of the "system" arrives. Naturally, a "nine" (read: 9mm semi-automatic pistol) would be more ideal. However, I have not procured one yet. Otherwise, I would have included it in my list of useful possessions. What about everything else? Well, I doubt that I will need much else when either the "system" collapses or I become truly homeless. All my other vital necessities are packed away in one medium-sized gym bag.
Another homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-day has fulfilled itself. I have been following my modified homeless guy itinerary in which I bypass my morning visit to the Korean and Vietnam War Memorial. In a way, I miss my interaction with the natural surroundings of the entire Capitol district. However, the inner courtyard of the library is a suitable surrogate. There are many plants and trees which create a serene environment.
I did my usual workout at the gym before departing on the bus to return to Slob Manor. As for the rest of the day and evening, you know the drill. Same ol' shit.
Given the promise of even lower short-term interest rates by the Fed and the upcoming collapse of the "system," I have been contemplating paying off the mortgage for the "condotel" unit. There is a balance of about $89,000 and some change. I surmise that a banking collapse, which is becoming imminent, will bring down all financial institutions including my investment firm. I would be better off paying down the mortgage than losing my entire life savings as well as the "condotel" unit (by subsequent foreclosure). Right now, I am being robbed blind by usury as it is. Planning for the collapse of the "system" is now at the forefront.
I spent part of the evening contemplating which of my possessions could be potentially useful, that is, of what possessions that I have remaining. I am probably inclined to believe that my Nissan® Frontier truck is a useful, albeit costly, possession. In the event that I become completely homeless, not just a homeless guy emulator, then I would have a "mobile home." Recall that a custom tent is available that fits right on the rear bed. Many former homeowners in Cali are realizing the usefulness of their 4000-pound motorized chairs (read: automobiles) turned "mobile homes."
My Toshiba® Satellite notebook computer is presently a useful possession. It is the command center for my entire operation. Its usefulness runs the gamut of total communications to hurdy-gurdy "torrent" retrieval to managing my small empire.
Then, there is my Nova® Spirit Electronic Restraining Device (ERD). There's been a lot of news coverage about the devices. Most notorious are the actual Taser® models which use a gas cartridge to propel wired electrodes onto the intended victim. The Nova® Spirit, on the other hand, is a non-intrusive contact device. In any case, an Nova® ERD will come in handy as a deterrent to "undesirables" when the collapse of the "system" arrives. Naturally, a "nine" (read: 9mm semi-automatic pistol) would be more ideal. However, I have not procured one yet. Otherwise, I would have included it in my list of useful possessions. What about everything else? Well, I doubt that I will need much else when either the "system" collapses or I become truly homeless. All my other vital necessities are packed away in one medium-sized gym bag.
Another homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-day has fulfilled itself. I have been following my modified homeless guy itinerary in which I bypass my morning visit to the Korean and Vietnam War Memorial. In a way, I miss my interaction with the natural surroundings of the entire Capitol district. However, the inner courtyard of the library is a suitable surrogate. There are many plants and trees which create a serene environment.
I did my usual workout at the gym before departing on the bus to return to Slob Manor. As for the rest of the day and evening, you know the drill. Same ol' shit.
Given the promise of even lower short-term interest rates by the Fed and the upcoming collapse of the "system," I have been contemplating paying off the mortgage for the "condotel" unit. There is a balance of about $89,000 and some change. I surmise that a banking collapse, which is becoming imminent, will bring down all financial institutions including my investment firm. I would be better off paying down the mortgage than losing my entire life savings as well as the "condotel" unit (by subsequent foreclosure). Right now, I am being robbed blind by usury as it is. Planning for the collapse of the "system" is now at the forefront.
Monday, July 28, 2008
House of Squalor (Reprise)
Moms and I made the rounds to Longs® in Kuapa Kai and to City Mill in the Hawai'i Kai Towne Center this morning. We at our Panda Express® plate lunches outside near the marina. When we returned, moms served up Foremost® coffee ice cream for dessert. I chatted with moms until 1pm.
I drove my Nissan® Frontier truck back to Longs® in Kuapa Kai. I had to purchase four more boxes of Cascadian Farm® organic granola (on sale for $3 per box) in addition to the three boxes that I had procured earlier. Then, I drove to Koko Marina. I was able to find shaded parking in the parking structure, although the weather was marginal at best. I walked to the gym. Naturally, I did my usual cardio workout. After a nice hot shower, I dropped my gym bag off in my truck. I made one last stop at Foodland to restock my supply of Dole® packaged salad mix, Imitation Crab and Kamaboko Poke, and bananas. Wheee!
I was back in Slob Manor by 3:30pm. With little else to do, I performed the dreaded laundry chores. Aside from that, the rest of the day and evening appeared to be gelling into the same routine, that is, same ol' shit. How can anyone handle such a benign life-style? Well, the ol' lavahead is not just anyone. The ol' lavahead has been destined to live in the manner that he does.
There was a lot of rain this morning, just like yesterday. The weather is more reminiscent of Winter. I had commenced the morning by driving out to the Hawai'i Kai Towne Center. I used the restroom facilities for obvious reasons. Then, I sat around for about 30 minutes. I looked out toward the mountains and tried to ignore the hideous housing projects that mar the hillside. The collapse of the "system" cannot come quick enough, I said to myself. In front of me, numerous 4000-pound motorized chairs (read: automobiles) were scurrying about even though the shops had yet to open. I became more convinced that humanity will run itself into the ground, literally, rather than adapt to a more life-sustaining strategy. We are, in essence, doomed as a society.
The fifth Slob Manor housemate, Marion, is apparently moving out at the end of the month. Her "official" reason is that the unbearable noise of the traffic outside. Marion is allegedly a professional triathlete, so she needs a good night's rest. She is also a slob, giving the Indian guy a good "run for the money." Her crap is everywhere downstairs, although that is not really my problem. There's rotting garbage in the kitchen sink and in plastic bags on the kitchen counter. Naturally, the ants are in ecstasy. The trash receptacle, the one that I alone bring out to the curb for pick-up twice a week, has been overflowing each time ever since she moved in. She also doesn't particularly care for any of us, by what I gathered from the other housemates. Well, good riddance.
As for the second floor of Slob Manor, I have decided that I will no longer clean anything except my squalid room. After cleaning up the blood and puke during the Indian guy's "brush with death," the end of my cleaning courteousness has come. However, I will spray the bowl of the commode every now and then with the chlorine bleach mixture that I concocted. The decrepit Vienna Sausage often has trajectory malfunctions. I will also spray the bottom of the bathtub before I take a shower there, which is rare. I will also sporadically spray the sink faucets. I will do no more than keep the germ levels minimized. I am not the houseboy.
I drove my Nissan® Frontier truck back to Longs® in Kuapa Kai. I had to purchase four more boxes of Cascadian Farm® organic granola (on sale for $3 per box) in addition to the three boxes that I had procured earlier. Then, I drove to Koko Marina. I was able to find shaded parking in the parking structure, although the weather was marginal at best. I walked to the gym. Naturally, I did my usual cardio workout. After a nice hot shower, I dropped my gym bag off in my truck. I made one last stop at Foodland to restock my supply of Dole® packaged salad mix, Imitation Crab and Kamaboko Poke, and bananas. Wheee!
I was back in Slob Manor by 3:30pm. With little else to do, I performed the dreaded laundry chores. Aside from that, the rest of the day and evening appeared to be gelling into the same routine, that is, same ol' shit. How can anyone handle such a benign life-style? Well, the ol' lavahead is not just anyone. The ol' lavahead has been destined to live in the manner that he does.
There was a lot of rain this morning, just like yesterday. The weather is more reminiscent of Winter. I had commenced the morning by driving out to the Hawai'i Kai Towne Center. I used the restroom facilities for obvious reasons. Then, I sat around for about 30 minutes. I looked out toward the mountains and tried to ignore the hideous housing projects that mar the hillside. The collapse of the "system" cannot come quick enough, I said to myself. In front of me, numerous 4000-pound motorized chairs (read: automobiles) were scurrying about even though the shops had yet to open. I became more convinced that humanity will run itself into the ground, literally, rather than adapt to a more life-sustaining strategy. We are, in essence, doomed as a society.
The fifth Slob Manor housemate, Marion, is apparently moving out at the end of the month. Her "official" reason is that the unbearable noise of the traffic outside. Marion is allegedly a professional triathlete, so she needs a good night's rest. She is also a slob, giving the Indian guy a good "run for the money." Her crap is everywhere downstairs, although that is not really my problem. There's rotting garbage in the kitchen sink and in plastic bags on the kitchen counter. Naturally, the ants are in ecstasy. The trash receptacle, the one that I alone bring out to the curb for pick-up twice a week, has been overflowing each time ever since she moved in. She also doesn't particularly care for any of us, by what I gathered from the other housemates. Well, good riddance.
As for the second floor of Slob Manor, I have decided that I will no longer clean anything except my squalid room. After cleaning up the blood and puke during the Indian guy's "brush with death," the end of my cleaning courteousness has come. However, I will spray the bowl of the commode every now and then with the chlorine bleach mixture that I concocted. The decrepit Vienna Sausage often has trajectory malfunctions. I will also spray the bottom of the bathtub before I take a shower there, which is rare. I will also sporadically spray the sink faucets. I will do no more than keep the germ levels minimized. I am not the houseboy.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
House of Squalor
I had to endure a most annoying evening. The gale force winds were so strong that dust and dirt were swirling around in my squalid room at Slob Manor (read: rental housing) even with the louvers closed. My Toshiba® Satellite notebook computer was coated with dust. Is that why the keyboard has been intermittent, you think? I attempted to listen to House Music on the Pure House Music site. However, I was interrupted every few minutes by carpenter ants crawling on my leg, on the wall in front of me, or in the stack of soiled underwear on the floor. I had to get up and eradicate the ants with my humble dustpan and brush. I finally gave up on the idea of relaxing to a few nice House Music tunes.
As a simple monk, I use a Longs® paper sack for a trash can. Inside the paper sack, a one-inch layer of carpenter ant carcasses line the bottom. That's how many carpenter ants I had to eradicate using my humble dustpan and brush. I also dispose of the dirt and dust (swept up by my humble dustpan and brush daily) into the paper sack. When I say that I live in squalor, I mean it.
I did not sleep well last night. In fact, I have not slept well for several weeks. I have been plagued by an assortment of bizarre dreams. All night long, the dreams flowed in a disjointed sequence. My only break from the tortuous dreams is when I am abruptly awakened by the need to "drain the lizard." No longer consuming any diuretic beverage has limited my "lizard draining" sessions, however.
I have also been suffering from numerous intrusive thoughts about my past. I have had vivid recollections of my various transgressions and forays into stupidity from the past 35 years. In retrospect, I feel foolish. I have no idea why I engaged in such conduct unbecoming. I cannot feign remorse, nor can I seek absolution. So, why is my mind taunting me with such vile crap? Why did my conscience not do its job as the events unfolded?
Another homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-Sunday followed the exact same itinerary as last week. Aside from checking my mail at the Post Office, my only other agenda item was the gym. I was back at Slob Manor by 3:15pm. I enjoyed a leisurely afternoon in my squalid room. I did absolutely nothing. Then, I devoured a delicious veggie "rations" dinner. Well, I cannot claim the meal to be pure veggie. Obviously, the various poke dishes are comprised of seafood. The evening will find me continuing to embrace my squalor. Same ol' shit.
As a simple monk, I use a Longs® paper sack for a trash can. Inside the paper sack, a one-inch layer of carpenter ant carcasses line the bottom. That's how many carpenter ants I had to eradicate using my humble dustpan and brush. I also dispose of the dirt and dust (swept up by my humble dustpan and brush daily) into the paper sack. When I say that I live in squalor, I mean it.
I did not sleep well last night. In fact, I have not slept well for several weeks. I have been plagued by an assortment of bizarre dreams. All night long, the dreams flowed in a disjointed sequence. My only break from the tortuous dreams is when I am abruptly awakened by the need to "drain the lizard." No longer consuming any diuretic beverage has limited my "lizard draining" sessions, however.
I have also been suffering from numerous intrusive thoughts about my past. I have had vivid recollections of my various transgressions and forays into stupidity from the past 35 years. In retrospect, I feel foolish. I have no idea why I engaged in such conduct unbecoming. I cannot feign remorse, nor can I seek absolution. So, why is my mind taunting me with such vile crap? Why did my conscience not do its job as the events unfolded?
Another homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-Sunday followed the exact same itinerary as last week. Aside from checking my mail at the Post Office, my only other agenda item was the gym. I was back at Slob Manor by 3:15pm. I enjoyed a leisurely afternoon in my squalid room. I did absolutely nothing. Then, I devoured a delicious veggie "rations" dinner. Well, I cannot claim the meal to be pure veggie. Obviously, the various poke dishes are comprised of seafood. The evening will find me continuing to embrace my squalor. Same ol' shit.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Waiting Game
I was vacillating until the last minute to make a decision about whether to take the homeless guy emulation on the road to town or not. Finally, in the remaining seconds before I had to walk to the bus stop, I made a shaky decision to head to Aina Haina. I visited Foodland after I alighted the bus. I purchased a couple of bananas. Then, I spent about 1.5 hours in the library. Subsequently, I rode the bus back to Slob Manor (read: rental housing).
I hastily packed my gym bag and departed minutes later. The bus, however, was running a little late. No problem-o. I alighted the bus at Koko Marina. I sat on one of the benches overlooking the parking lot. I watched the mind-numbing clowns in their 4000-pound motorized chairs (read: automobiles) driving around the parking lot. From a detached point of view, it was a ridiculous site. Growing weary of the foolishness, I made my way to the gym. Once again, I endured my usual workout by engaging myself in a leisurely fashion. I managed to weigh myself again with only a towel wrapped around me. Sadly, I verified once again that I am emaciated beyond belief.
I had no choice but to seek out a snack of two Cheesy Bean and Rice Burritos at Taco Bell®. Yes, I made a "run for the border." I was really enjoying my snack until a large group of "brown skins" entered the restaurant (term used loosely). They were all huddled near the restrooms. Finally, a group of them sat at the tables adjacent to the one I was sitting at. With all the noise, my pleasure was negated immediately. I then realized that, even in Hawai'i Kai, the lowest lifeforms in the food chain are attracted to Taco Bell®. Obviously, that explains why I was there.
I hastily completed my snack and departed. I was a few minutes early at the bus stop, so I had a longer wait. No problem-o. I was back in my squalid room at Slob Manor by 4pm. As always, one back in the squalor of Slob Manor, I stay the course ... same ol' shit.
Last night, I read an interesting post titled, "Pilfered Dreams: The Story of Student Loans and Sallie Mae," that appeared on the Peak Oil Blues "blog." I found it interesting because I have been paying off student loans to my servicing agent, Sallie Mae, for almost ten years straight. That's the item labeled "other loans" in my net worth spreadsheet. My current payment is $254 per month, and I have seven more months to go. Student loans are about as big a sham as "subprime and "Alt-A" mortgages. The whole nation and its perverse culture are based upon credit and loans. Incidentally, my current mortgage for the "condotel" unit is an "Alt-A" class. I was qualified only by using "stated income." That's the kind of joke the whole financial "system" has become.
Speaking of the "condotel" unit, it apparently almost broke even for the month of June. I'm just $50 in arrears, which is a blessing. The tourist industry in Hawai'i has taken a big hit. June was supposed to be a "soft" month. However, my unit as with others on the second and third floor of the Aloha Surf Hotel are the only ones with very stable occupancy rates. Nonetheless, many of the other owners are frantically trying to dump their units on the market at rock-bottom prices. As I mentioned before, I am not willing to assume that much of a loss. My mortgage is for a 15-year term, so it is amortizing at a rapid rate. Right now, I have close to $60,000 in equity in the unit. Thus, I am locked in a waiting game.
I hastily packed my gym bag and departed minutes later. The bus, however, was running a little late. No problem-o. I alighted the bus at Koko Marina. I sat on one of the benches overlooking the parking lot. I watched the mind-numbing clowns in their 4000-pound motorized chairs (read: automobiles) driving around the parking lot. From a detached point of view, it was a ridiculous site. Growing weary of the foolishness, I made my way to the gym. Once again, I endured my usual workout by engaging myself in a leisurely fashion. I managed to weigh myself again with only a towel wrapped around me. Sadly, I verified once again that I am emaciated beyond belief.
I had no choice but to seek out a snack of two Cheesy Bean and Rice Burritos at Taco Bell®. Yes, I made a "run for the border." I was really enjoying my snack until a large group of "brown skins" entered the restaurant (term used loosely). They were all huddled near the restrooms. Finally, a group of them sat at the tables adjacent to the one I was sitting at. With all the noise, my pleasure was negated immediately. I then realized that, even in Hawai'i Kai, the lowest lifeforms in the food chain are attracted to Taco Bell®. Obviously, that explains why I was there.
I hastily completed my snack and departed. I was a few minutes early at the bus stop, so I had a longer wait. No problem-o. I was back in my squalid room at Slob Manor by 4pm. As always, one back in the squalor of Slob Manor, I stay the course ... same ol' shit.
Last night, I read an interesting post titled, "Pilfered Dreams: The Story of Student Loans and Sallie Mae," that appeared on the Peak Oil Blues "blog." I found it interesting because I have been paying off student loans to my servicing agent, Sallie Mae, for almost ten years straight. That's the item labeled "other loans" in my net worth spreadsheet. My current payment is $254 per month, and I have seven more months to go. Student loans are about as big a sham as "subprime and "Alt-A" mortgages. The whole nation and its perverse culture are based upon credit and loans. Incidentally, my current mortgage for the "condotel" unit is an "Alt-A" class. I was qualified only by using "stated income." That's the kind of joke the whole financial "system" has become.
Speaking of the "condotel" unit, it apparently almost broke even for the month of June. I'm just $50 in arrears, which is a blessing. The tourist industry in Hawai'i has taken a big hit. June was supposed to be a "soft" month. However, my unit as with others on the second and third floor of the Aloha Surf Hotel are the only ones with very stable occupancy rates. Nonetheless, many of the other owners are frantically trying to dump their units on the market at rock-bottom prices. As I mentioned before, I am not willing to assume that much of a loss. My mortgage is for a 15-year term, so it is amortizing at a rapid rate. Right now, I have close to $60,000 in equity in the unit. Thus, I am locked in a waiting game.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Wake-Up Call
I received via e-mail attachment the pictures that Lori took of the oversized cranium last week with her iPhone®. At first, I thought that the aspect ratio of the pictures was askew. Then, I realized just how truly emaciated I am. The twenty-plus-pound loss has obviously taken a toll on the ol' lavahead. Worst yet, he truly looks like a homeless guy. Sheesh! I had previously thought of posting the pictures in the "blog," but there is no way that I could do that now. I will just store the pictures in my deep undercover archive.
I don't quite look my age yet, but I have nonetheless aged significantly. The fact that I truly look like a homeless guy indicates that I have physically gone downhill at a rapid pace. Even more appalling, I look shabby, decrepit, and downright "spooky." Now I fully understand why I have been treated just like a typical homeless guy. Well, hey! I am a homeless guy emulator!
Given the latter "discovery," I would be wise to accelerate the exodus. I must exit "mainstream" society as soon as possible. What if I must return to wage slavery? Surely I will be able to find a lowly peon position out of the public eye, eh? Well, we are at the "last roundup" after all. I should not have been "kicking the can" for so long, but that is now "water under the bridge." I have let time slip through my fingers. Now, I am emaciated old fool. Let this be a lesson to anyone who is wasting time. Heed the old adage, "Time waits for no one."
Well, it's plain to see that the situation has gone beyond the "old man malaise." I must expedite the divestiture of my useless possessions. I will have to review the necessity of my gym membership. Basically, I must become more realistic about my objectives and my life-style. I have pushed the envelope of age limitations, and now the "chickens are coming home to roost," as it were.
I was off to Hawai'i Kai this morning at 8:30am. I piddled around for an hour. First, I visited Longs® in Kuapa Kai. Then, I stopped off at the Hawai'i Kai Towne Center to use the restroom facilities (the only one in the entire area that is not locked up) and to visit Ross®. Moms was home when I arrived. So was my nephew. Moms and I only went as far as Koko Marina. We ate spaghetti plate lunches at Zippy's. Three ducks were waddling around the open-air dining area. Then, moms shopped for groceries at Foodland. When we returned, moms served Foremost® coffee ice cream for dessert. I chatted with moms until 1pm.
I did not find shaded parking for my Nissan® Frontier truck at Koko Marina. I parked on the top level of the parking structure near Taco Bell®. I walked to the gym. I performed a benign version of my usual workout. After a nice long shower, I walked back to my truck. I foolishly decided to move it into the shaded section on the ground level.
I spent a few minutes sitting on one of the benches overlooking the Koko Marina parking lot, an activity enjoyed by many senior citizens. In fact, I am beginning to appreciate such senior citizen activities. Finally, I made my way to Foodland. I purchased Imitation Crab Poke, Kamaboko Poke, and about a pound of bulk granola. I was back at Slob Manor (read: rental housing). I performed the dreaded laundry chores and also washed my truck. Then, I ate my veggie "rations" for dinner. The evening will be the same ol' shit. Oh, the horror!
I don't quite look my age yet, but I have nonetheless aged significantly. The fact that I truly look like a homeless guy indicates that I have physically gone downhill at a rapid pace. Even more appalling, I look shabby, decrepit, and downright "spooky." Now I fully understand why I have been treated just like a typical homeless guy. Well, hey! I am a homeless guy emulator!
Given the latter "discovery," I would be wise to accelerate the exodus. I must exit "mainstream" society as soon as possible. What if I must return to wage slavery? Surely I will be able to find a lowly peon position out of the public eye, eh? Well, we are at the "last roundup" after all. I should not have been "kicking the can" for so long, but that is now "water under the bridge." I have let time slip through my fingers. Now, I am emaciated old fool. Let this be a lesson to anyone who is wasting time. Heed the old adage, "Time waits for no one."
Well, it's plain to see that the situation has gone beyond the "old man malaise." I must expedite the divestiture of my useless possessions. I will have to review the necessity of my gym membership. Basically, I must become more realistic about my objectives and my life-style. I have pushed the envelope of age limitations, and now the "chickens are coming home to roost," as it were.
I was off to Hawai'i Kai this morning at 8:30am. I piddled around for an hour. First, I visited Longs® in Kuapa Kai. Then, I stopped off at the Hawai'i Kai Towne Center to use the restroom facilities (the only one in the entire area that is not locked up) and to visit Ross®. Moms was home when I arrived. So was my nephew. Moms and I only went as far as Koko Marina. We ate spaghetti plate lunches at Zippy's. Three ducks were waddling around the open-air dining area. Then, moms shopped for groceries at Foodland. When we returned, moms served Foremost® coffee ice cream for dessert. I chatted with moms until 1pm.
I did not find shaded parking for my Nissan® Frontier truck at Koko Marina. I parked on the top level of the parking structure near Taco Bell®. I walked to the gym. I performed a benign version of my usual workout. After a nice long shower, I walked back to my truck. I foolishly decided to move it into the shaded section on the ground level.
I spent a few minutes sitting on one of the benches overlooking the Koko Marina parking lot, an activity enjoyed by many senior citizens. In fact, I am beginning to appreciate such senior citizen activities. Finally, I made my way to Foodland. I purchased Imitation Crab Poke, Kamaboko Poke, and about a pound of bulk granola. I was back at Slob Manor (read: rental housing). I performed the dreaded laundry chores and also washed my truck. Then, I ate my veggie "rations" for dinner. The evening will be the same ol' shit. Oh, the horror!
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Blue Boogaloo Redux
Another homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-day has wreaked havoc with my psyche. Once again, I deviated from the standard homeless guy emulator itinerary. From this point forward, there is no standard homeless guy emulator itinerary. After eating my granola brunch in my squalid room at Slob Manor (read: rental housing), I departed for town on the bus at 9:45am.
Once in town, I headed straight for the library. I spent the time in the inner courtyard. Between reading Bani-Sadr's book, "My Turn to Speak," and lapsing in and out of a coma, I blazed through three hours of time. I did my usual workout at the gym before returning to Slob Manor on the bus by 5pm. Otherwise, same ol’ shit.
Once in town, I headed straight for the library. I spent the time in the inner courtyard. Between reading Bani-Sadr's book, "My Turn to Speak," and lapsing in and out of a coma, I blazed through three hours of time. I did my usual workout at the gym before returning to Slob Manor on the bus by 5pm. Otherwise, same ol’ shit.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Benign Leisure
I spent most of last night listening to Deep House mixes directly from the Deep House Cat site. Only House Music can calm my nerves after a long day of homeless guy emulation. After all, what is there to look forward to when I return to the dump that is Slob Manor (read: rental housing)? The fast food containers full of rotting food are all piled up on the floor next to the refrigerator once again. The healthy food purchased by the Indian guy, which is now taking up most of the fridge, has not been consumed. Most of the crap is probably on the verge of rotting. The fresh fruit resting on top of the fridge has turned black. The Indian guy's epiphany after his "brush with death" has obviously faded into distant memory. That's the beauty and tragedy of the human condition.
Another homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-day was in alternative "dry run" mode. I actually performed the dreaded laundry chores early this morning. Then, I ate my granola brunch in my squalid room before departing on the bus to Aina Haina at 9:45am. I was not sure if the library was open or not, but I decided to take a chance. The weather looked marginal, so I did not want to venture to town. The library opened just as I walked up to the entrance. I ended up staying for only an hour. I spent my time reading current and back issues of the periodical, Washington Report for Middle East Affairs.
I was back in Slob Manor by 11:30am. In an intense hand-wringing situation, I found myself indecisive about whether to ride the bus to the gym in Hawai'i Kai or not. The sky had turned quite dark, and there was intermittent rain with gale force winds. In the end, I drove my Nissan® Frontier truck to Koko Marina. I was able to find shaded parking in the parking structure. However, with an overcast sky, the matter was moot.
I walked to the gym. I did my usual workout in a leisurely fashion. During weight sets, I even take time to sit in one of the chairs along the periphery of the weight room. I sit there for several minutes in a relaxed state. After my cardio workout, I enjoyed an extremely long shower.
I dropped my gym bag off in my truck. I then sat on one of the benches overlooking the Koko Marina parking lot. I sat there for a long time, that is, until the two "gook" peons from the Harbor Village Cuisine Chinese restaurant came outside. The Chinamen sat on the bench next to the one I was sitting on and started chain-smoking cigarettes. Obviously, they could not read all of the "No Smoking" signs all around them. I yelled a few expletives at the "gooks." No doubt, they could not understand me. Well, that was my cue to head on to Foodland.
I meandered leisurely through the aisles in Foodland, my thoughts mostly consumed by the exorbitant price of food. I purchased a loaf of bread, two bananas, and a small container of Ahi Poke. The total was $7 and some change. However, I could not find a decent snack. While walking back to my truck, I had a brainstorm. I walked upstairs to Taco Bell® and ordered two of my all-time favorite Cheesy Bean and Rice Burritos. And, the price of the burrito has been lowered to $1.09 each. What a deal!
I felt quite content after my Taco Bell® snack. Perhaps that is how I can regain some of my lost weight, eh? Bad idea. I would probably end up with a pear-shaped physique, just like all of the senior citizens in my age group. I was back in squalid room at Slob Manor by 4:30pm. Where did the day go? What did I do? How can can I continue this benign life-style much longer?
Another homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-day was in alternative "dry run" mode. I actually performed the dreaded laundry chores early this morning. Then, I ate my granola brunch in my squalid room before departing on the bus to Aina Haina at 9:45am. I was not sure if the library was open or not, but I decided to take a chance. The weather looked marginal, so I did not want to venture to town. The library opened just as I walked up to the entrance. I ended up staying for only an hour. I spent my time reading current and back issues of the periodical, Washington Report for Middle East Affairs.
I was back in Slob Manor by 11:30am. In an intense hand-wringing situation, I found myself indecisive about whether to ride the bus to the gym in Hawai'i Kai or not. The sky had turned quite dark, and there was intermittent rain with gale force winds. In the end, I drove my Nissan® Frontier truck to Koko Marina. I was able to find shaded parking in the parking structure. However, with an overcast sky, the matter was moot.
I walked to the gym. I did my usual workout in a leisurely fashion. During weight sets, I even take time to sit in one of the chairs along the periphery of the weight room. I sit there for several minutes in a relaxed state. After my cardio workout, I enjoyed an extremely long shower.
I dropped my gym bag off in my truck. I then sat on one of the benches overlooking the Koko Marina parking lot. I sat there for a long time, that is, until the two "gook" peons from the Harbor Village Cuisine Chinese restaurant came outside. The Chinamen sat on the bench next to the one I was sitting on and started chain-smoking cigarettes. Obviously, they could not read all of the "No Smoking" signs all around them. I yelled a few expletives at the "gooks." No doubt, they could not understand me. Well, that was my cue to head on to Foodland.
I meandered leisurely through the aisles in Foodland, my thoughts mostly consumed by the exorbitant price of food. I purchased a loaf of bread, two bananas, and a small container of Ahi Poke. The total was $7 and some change. However, I could not find a decent snack. While walking back to my truck, I had a brainstorm. I walked upstairs to Taco Bell® and ordered two of my all-time favorite Cheesy Bean and Rice Burritos. And, the price of the burrito has been lowered to $1.09 each. What a deal!
I felt quite content after my Taco Bell® snack. Perhaps that is how I can regain some of my lost weight, eh? Bad idea. I would probably end up with a pear-shaped physique, just like all of the senior citizens in my age group. I was back in squalid room at Slob Manor by 4:30pm. Where did the day go? What did I do? How can can I continue this benign life-style much longer?
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Hieroglyphics
The gale force winds returned several days ago. Each night, I must contend with dirt and dust swirling about my squalid room in Slob Manor (read: rental housing). Either that, or I can close the louvers and suffocate in the heat. The dirt particles are fairly large. I must sweep up the crap off the floor with my humble dustpan and brush daily. The crap also settles on my Toshiba® Satellite notebook computer. I am too poor to afford canned air to spray the crap off of the computer. So, I attempt to blow the dust off myself. Once again, old age wields its ugly head. I end up sending wads of spittle and mucous onto my computer. My lung capacity is that of a wheezing senior citizen. So pathetic!
I also recently discovered that my cheap Nokia® cell phone is malfunctioning. It keeps turning itself off every day or so. The only way to power it up after that is to charge the battery. I have rarely used the piece of crap. In fact, I only checked it once every week or so. That was when the battery held a charge. Whenever I perused the cell phone, I never bothered to see if there had been any calls. The display is so small that I would only strain my eyes to discern the tiny hieroglyphics. So, I only bothered to see if the phone was powered up. There might several messages on voicemail, but I wouldn't know. And, frankly, I don't care. I don't even carry the piece of crap with me.
Another homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-day ... modified again. I ate my granola brunch in my squalid room before departing 30 minutes later usual. When I arrived in town, I walked directly to the library, bypassing the Korean and Vietnam War Memorial. I have become somewhat disillusioned with the homeless guy emulation as of late. The bus trips to town are becoming cumbersome and annoying.
I spent about 3.5 hours in the inner courtyard of the library. I commenced reading the book, "My Turn To Speak: Iran, The Revolution And Secret Deals With The US," by Albohassan Bani-Sadr. The book has been ridiculed by various NeoConmen organizations and "think tanks," thus giving it greater credibility. Many of Bani-Sadr's "ridiculous" allegations have recently been coming to light as the truth. A reader would certainly gain a greater understanding of the current form of the Iranian government.
I did my usual workout at the gym. I was bothered all day by intrusive thoughts to dump all of worldly possessions immediately. I was in a foul mood once back in Slob Manor to fulfill yet another laborious day of the same ol' shit. When I caught a glimpse of all of my useless possessions lying on the floor of my squalid room, I wanted to gather up the crap and dump it all in the trash can.
As for the evening? Yeah, same ol 'shit. The gale force winds were blowing even harder this evening. In addition, a sudden downpour turned the floor in my squalid room to a thin layer of mud created from the dirt and dust. Water was literally showering my entire squalid room. The wet dirt was coated all over my worldly possessions. I was hyperventilating with rage. Only when I realized that I was on the verge of a senior citizen cardio event did I calm down, albeit reluctantly.
Well, I expect to see the stock market surge to unbelievable heights if Barack Obama wins the Presidential (s)election in November. Call it the election "bubble." I am still expecting the Dow to tumble below 10,000 before then. That would be the time to take every last cent and put it into stocks or mutual funds. However, make sure to cash out right after that the "bubble" inflates. Once the nation returns to the status quo, expect the market to plunge. That's my homeless guy emulator tip for the day.
I also recently discovered that my cheap Nokia® cell phone is malfunctioning. It keeps turning itself off every day or so. The only way to power it up after that is to charge the battery. I have rarely used the piece of crap. In fact, I only checked it once every week or so. That was when the battery held a charge. Whenever I perused the cell phone, I never bothered to see if there had been any calls. The display is so small that I would only strain my eyes to discern the tiny hieroglyphics. So, I only bothered to see if the phone was powered up. There might several messages on voicemail, but I wouldn't know. And, frankly, I don't care. I don't even carry the piece of crap with me.
Another homeless guy emulation kind-of-a-day ... modified again. I ate my granola brunch in my squalid room before departing 30 minutes later usual. When I arrived in town, I walked directly to the library, bypassing the Korean and Vietnam War Memorial. I have become somewhat disillusioned with the homeless guy emulation as of late. The bus trips to town are becoming cumbersome and annoying.
I spent about 3.5 hours in the inner courtyard of the library. I commenced reading the book, "My Turn To Speak: Iran, The Revolution And Secret Deals With The US," by Albohassan Bani-Sadr. The book has been ridiculed by various NeoConmen organizations and "think tanks," thus giving it greater credibility. Many of Bani-Sadr's "ridiculous" allegations have recently been coming to light as the truth. A reader would certainly gain a greater understanding of the current form of the Iranian government.
I did my usual workout at the gym. I was bothered all day by intrusive thoughts to dump all of worldly possessions immediately. I was in a foul mood once back in Slob Manor to fulfill yet another laborious day of the same ol' shit. When I caught a glimpse of all of my useless possessions lying on the floor of my squalid room, I wanted to gather up the crap and dump it all in the trash can.
As for the evening? Yeah, same ol 'shit. The gale force winds were blowing even harder this evening. In addition, a sudden downpour turned the floor in my squalid room to a thin layer of mud created from the dirt and dust. Water was literally showering my entire squalid room. The wet dirt was coated all over my worldly possessions. I was hyperventilating with rage. Only when I realized that I was on the verge of a senior citizen cardio event did I calm down, albeit reluctantly.
Well, I expect to see the stock market surge to unbelievable heights if Barack Obama wins the Presidential (s)election in November. Call it the election "bubble." I am still expecting the Dow to tumble below 10,000 before then. That would be the time to take every last cent and put it into stocks or mutual funds. However, make sure to cash out right after that the "bubble" inflates. Once the nation returns to the status quo, expect the market to plunge. That's my homeless guy emulator tip for the day.
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