Collar poppers and Princesses..part 1 "CP"

Collar popping...or "CP" ing as the lovely metrosexuals call it, makes me retch. My god how gay are you?
Speaking of gay, being a "metrosexual" is the new gay. You are not this super-sensitive ultra converted "Emo" that saw the light and got fashionable but still kept yourself a sensitive male. You're gay.
It's just more widely acceptable now to be called "metro" than homo. Hey, I don't mind being sensitive...I cry when I have to put my dog down, when a close relative passes, I'm out of beer on a camping trip, I even tear up a bit when the national anthem plays at the super-bowl. Other than that, suck it the hell up and be a man. Just because you can dredge up some crocodile tears to try and score points in getting a girl to spread open her thighs doesn't make you any more acceptable in the heterosexual community. It makes you gay.
"CP"ing started coming around back in like '88. In fact, it was only "popped" for a few seconds by OG mutha fuggin hustlas who took offense to some poor broke ass punk that got in their face.
Instead, big wig fashion gurus took the collar as a fashion statement so that it became a preppy-frat boy movement.
It became socially "cool" to get on that striped Tommy shirt with the white collar popped, wearing those aviator glasses while driving down the main drag in your convertible BMW. (Which, no doubt, your ass got as a gimme from mommy and daddy on your 18th birthday because you didn't get accepted into Stanford.You no money earning scrub ass mo'fo.)
Well, we all thought that this style went by the wayside long ago, but as most fashion trends do, they make a retro comeback.
Now in Scottsdale and most of the Arizona State campus, "CP"ing is the trend to do. Frat boys, Preppies and "metros" all grouped into one lump sum. I know that you preps and fratties hate the homo clan, but guess what...you're in the same fashion group now...which is pretty close to hanging out with your arch-enemies, if not being one...in fact there may be one close to you right now...is he in your frat? No? Then he's probably thinking of your sweet virgin ass.
Seriously though, all you guys, no matter what you are or lifestyle you may live. I don't care about the clothes you wear. Your style, albeit, as personally disturbing and easy to mock as it is, is your choice. It's the attitude along with it that bothers me.
Just because Nelly does it, does it mean you are as cool as him? Or as rich? 99% of the time, no.
Once that collar gets popped, you are king of the world aren't you? Not that I'm saying I'm better than..., well...okay, I am better than you.
Trust me, the collar thing has to end soon. And when it does, after a given time, you lemmings will find another fashion to follow and realize that "popping" that collar was a pretty stupid idea. Until then, keep on CP'in, that way I know who to laugh at in public.

Missing in action for a week

The things that happen in a week's time to suck up all your personal doings...sorry, I've been lagging lately. So anyways, last Thursday I was supposed to attend a baseball game in Tempe with Doug, but turns out that he had training that day and unfortunately had to cancel. Crystal and I ended up going instead, and as it came to pass, would have been worth our time to not even go. We got there, had time enough for a beer and hot dog (two beers and two dogs...$23...something inherently wrong with that..Nazi bastards) and watched 1 1/2 innings of baseball before a few million gallons of water were dumped on us and the field. Soaked to the bone and getting chilly, we waited for the rain to subside a little before giving up hope that the game would go on.

























We left before everyone else did, beat traffic, and headed up to my work for afternoon cocktails. Got a good buzz on, and then came home. I've been on a meat smoking craze lately and am still trying to perfect the art. Just as the predecessors before me, I'm sure that they had their successes and utter failures. While Crystal was in a 2 hour jack induced coma, I headed over to the store, got some grub and wood chips and started smoking away while enjoying a good few German beers.
I had Mrs. Butterworth's up in this bitch tonight, I swear. I bought mesquite and maple wood chips to smoke, and let me tell you, the maple was phenomenal. That sweet smell coated the meats and sent you into a crazed desire for chicken and waffles. I had good success at smoking some spare ribs and a chicken, but failed miserably (due to misjudging the temps) at turkey drumsticks and bratwursts. It reminded me of when my grandfather used to make homemade linguica in his smoke shack in his backyard when I was a kid. For some reason, is usually rained when he did it, and it was really raining as I did tonight...maybe the moisture adds to the smoke quality.
For some reason I accquired a southern accent in filming the smokin treats. May have been because most smoking comes from the southern states, or it may have been the beers. I'd lay money on the beers.



We stayed up and noshed for a bit before crashing out after a long day.
Friday was Jenny's return to the vet day. I got her there at noon for her appointment and saw the total results of her battle damage. Needless to say, she won't be doing any paw modeling any longer. One of her stitches popped out too, so there will be scar tissue there. She got a shiny new bandage and was instructed to finish her antibiotics. I'll probably take off her bandage for good tomorrow and just keep a sock over her paw for two more days to keep her from licking any remaining open area. Other than that, she's lively and back to her playful self.
Work on Friday was just that...work..

Saturday I was in at 8pm and had a good portion of the day to myself beforehand. I went out with Crystal to the .99 cent store (an awesome shopping & bargain hunting experience I must say), got some crap, and then drove past the CompUSA store in Mesa, which upon driving by, was having a store closing sale.Bonus buy!! I went in and with $400, scored a new flat screen LCD monitor, new keyboard, software programs and a new 300gig external hard drive. (my current hard drive is a mere 80 gigs and is severely bogged down, so this helps immensely)
So now I have a little happier computer.
We headed over to Old Chicago for lunch and then home for a bit before work.
Saturday work was well...work.
However, Sunday was Sunday fun day! Unfortunately after a shitty 4 hours of sleep, got up at 10:30 to get ready for a baseball game in Phoenix, A's vs Seattle. Chris cruised by and then Meyers showed up at 11:45. We all headed over there and started to settle in for a sunny game..that is until Meyers got a work call (sucks, he's on call 24/7 this week for his company), and then had to leave the game to go fix some stupid A/C fridge unit at a circle K. So much for a four way. The game was good until the last inning and the A's imploded and lost after only trailing by 1. We actually spend most of the game bagging on groups of seat crashers that kept coming and going using the people's seats in front of us. We weren't aware that we were sitting in the homo-preppy Scottsdale frat boys with back acne (backnee) section. We made sure to let our opinions known...come on guys! Who wears white sailing loafers, their underwear sticking 4 inches out of the top of their shorts, no shirt and a big old solo cubic zirconium stud ear ring and doesn't expect to be bagged on...especially if you're in someone else's seat! Silly homos.
























We left there to head up to Scottsdale for dinner and drinks. Zipps was our final destination. We sat down on the patio to order, perused the menu, and while doing so, looked over to the far side of the patio and saw our Hawaii travel partner Laura hanging with a buddy. Small worlds I tell ya. We ended up staying at our table, got our grub and chilled for a bit before saying our goodbye's and splitting for home and well deserved nap time. Kinda...we crashed until 9:30pm...a more than solid 3 hour nap. I got up and putzed around while Crystal watched TV. My computer was being a little bitch and not letting me fix him, so I got frustrated and tired and called it a night at 11.

So far today, Monday, I got up relatively early from the last night's rest, and gathered my things to go look at some apartment buildings for sale in Phoenix. 4 to be exact, spread out from near the 202 and Thomas, all the way up to the I-17 and Greenway. Of course, the one all the way to the north had to be the best one. We shall see what develops on that one. I'll talk it over with my realtor and my pop to get further input.

baseball pics

share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8CZtm7Vm2asmC

there are somepics up at shutterfly from the 1 1/2 innings of baseball before we got rained out thursday afternoon....

St. Patricks day Patty-O furniture

Despite knowing that I had to go into work Saturday to appease the drunken hordes on a bartender's busiest day of the year (usually, New years is a close second.), I was determined to make the best of it, after all, I usually bring in close to $300 on this day, which is well needed in the checking account. Then shit went downhill.
I go to Lowe's hardware before work because I wanted to buy a bunch of plants, trees and gardening supplies for my small plot of workable land on the side of my house. Yes, once again, attempting to have a active garden in the desert...that's another post though.
I get home, unload the truck, and right before I start working in the yard, the neighbor's dogs start barking up a storm as usual. This gets Jenny all riled up and she wants to bark back. She knows that's a no-no as it only succeeds on stressing out the annoying schnauzers and herself more. So she's used to getting bitched at. She runs up to the yard wall and starts barking like crazy. Loud enough that I can easily hear it across the way through my Ipod earphones.
I stomp over in her direction, toss my rake down and yell at her to stop. She gets scared, and starts to sulk away back into the house. Afraid I'd smack her on the butt, she tries to dart by me, which turns into a full run to safety inside the house. As she does this, she is staring at me and not whats in front of her, which was a complete 12 piece steel, glass and wood patio set. She collides full steam into said set, takes out two chairs, two ashtrays and one small glass table which shatters on top of her. Tempered glass thankfully...otherwise her injuries would have been worse. So now I have a busted dog and an excuse to get new furniture.
Of course, as expected, I get a call at 5:30, right as I am cleaning shards of glass up, to come in early to work instead of at 8 pm. Wonderful. She has a gash on her foot, but it's not bleeding, just three or four drops, so I bandage her up and request that Crystal come over and watch her while I'm gone so she doesn't eat off the bandage.
I go to work, call the vet on the way and set stuff up for the morning.
After a hellacious night bartending for barely $200, knowing that would go straight to the vet and thensome the next day, I get home exhausted and further inspect Jenny. The cut was worse that I thought. It was about 2 inches, completely along one toe and about 1/4 inch deep, down to bone and all. We get through the night and wake up late for the appointment in Tempe (stupid shitty alarm clock). They forward us to a 24 hr vet hospital south of home. We hit it up, wait 2 hours just to see a doc and then get an estimate for a $530 vet bill. Can't exactly haggle on this stuff, nor can you put a price on a loved one's head. I actually was expecting somewhere upwards of $700. Jenny is there til 8pm, and finally came home drugged, groggy and stitched up. Next post: Diggin holes for Liiiii-mons

You know you are..a series based on annoying people...issue number 1

Man, working in bars for over a decade, I see a ton of douchebags, but tonight I may have my first annual Douche de Annualle (douche of the year par francsaise...). First a little background...

It being St. Patty's Day weekend and all, I know that the drinkers, as well as the closet lightweights are going to all come out of the woodwork this weekend. It's inevitable. I grin and bare it and put on the plastic smile just so I can make some cash a little easier, but man...come on, even the general layman knows when they are acting like a total tool from time to time.

First thing's first...at the start of the evening tonight, there was this super annoying girl that was in. The only drinks she had were wheel spins...a lot of them. She'd go get 3 spins, come up, get her shots, not tip, down them all and then get right back in line to repeat the process. Not once, not twice, hell, not even three times, but four. Four freggin times in a row she does this. So, in total, she worked on 12 drinks within 40 minutes. Every time coming up to the bar acting like she won the damn lotto. Her voice too man...one of those annoying high pitches squealy girly ones. I'd rather listen to one thousand nails on one thousand chalkboards than listen to her.

So anyways, after the fourth round she started feeling, well, not so hot. She goes into the bathroom to go potty, pukes her brains out, and then, while she pukes out all the lovely booze, she shits herself. A certified dual ended explosion. She literally (no joking) covered a good portion of the ladies room stall with vomit and poop. She left shortly after that.

On to the douchebag de annuale nominee though...

Around eleven pm, a pair of dudes came in after the main rush and sat at the bar. The guy on the left was in his early thirties, white, pretty average lookin. His buddy was about the same age, Latino, greased hair back, tight black shirt with a silver crucifix hanging. He had a thick accent. No biggie, drinking heavy though, and soon enough, Latino boy was wasted. To the point of talking near gibberish. Apparently he was annoying a few customers, so Buddy was on babysitting duty as our doorman tonight. It got to the point of Elian (he just looked like an Elian) needing to be done and gone, so we started gently hinting he needed to go. Wasn't working.

Next think we know he's starting drama with Buddy. Buddy is one of the nicest guys we know and doesn't start shit, so we don't get what's going on. We are trying to all be cool, and by now Elian has every employee's undivided attention. He starts spitting off phrases to Buddy ranging from the oh so threatening "F$% You" to the very comical "I'm from Sowd Betch, SOWD BETCH!!! (south beach) and I gots money! Wot chu got?! Chu got nuting, so chut da foak up!"

At which time, Buddy reached in his pocket and pulled out a quarter, hence revealing to him that he has some money.

After 10 minutes of Buddy's demonstration of being the mot patient man on Earth, we were about done with it. His buddy was an honorary douchebag for just sitting there and not doing anything, so Matt, Ben and I went around to his side of the bar and got in his face to get him to sign his tab and get out. He refused to sign, still on the "sowd betch" and money tyrade.

Initiate departure by involuntary means upon insults given to barstaff's mothers.

In one fluid motion, Matt grabs him by his shoulder and neck and throws him down a few feet in front of him. Ben steps in with one hand, lays on the reverse Heimlich to his throat and whispers sweet nothings in his ear. At the point of Elian going limp and eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, Ben grabs one arm and literally dragged his lifeless ass through the bar, out the door, and dumped him on the sidewalk.

South Beach...say hello to South Scottsdale, hope you enjoyed your visit.

Thus a perfect demonstration of rule number one of public servants. We are the ones who prep your food, wash and tune your cars, clean your houses, manage your finances, and watch your kids. Do not fuck with us.

Boo

We go back from Hawai'i very late Sunday night, and made the drive home from the airport at 1am. Got home, de-geared as best as we could before passing out. A few days later, I had Crystal and Andrea over for a quick dinner and some brews and to catch up on everything. After talking about the trip, her new job, social happenings and other topics, I asked her how sitting the house went. Nothing special, everything went fine.

I knew that Andrea has an aversion to spending the night here because she thinks that a spirit still remains in the house. No biggie, I always knew that the little bugger never really left, he just let himself be known, and then Chris and I put him in his place. He, Jenny and I now live in a relatively peaceful co-existence.

So I ask 'Drea if she had any run ins with netherworld dwellers, and without missing a beat, she said yes. Until now, Crystal had been the only one who had supposedly "seen" him. She asked 'Drea what he looked like and what he was wearing, and Crystal confirmed that's who she saw as well.

I still had my doubts.

Well, until I got my third verification. Apparently, even though she didn't tell me during her visit in December, my cousin Tina was visited by the same man.

I guess he likes girls. Good to know that he's not gay. He also likes to appear when they are in the shower. Sweet, now he's perverted like me!! No wonder we get along so well.

So, that said, if you are a female gracing my home with your presence and see a figure of a man in his late forties, wearing shorts and a cream or yellow shirt, about 5' 11" watching you get nekkid, don't be alarmed, it's just Casper the perverted ghost.

Makes me wonder how sick he thinks I am, watching me look at costumed, three way midget porn all day drinking coffee and beers.

Part 7- Epilogue

As a traveller, you learn to be a few things. Adventurous, curious, humbled, inspired, free. You develop the mentality of what you are supposed to be-an ambassador, a student, a polite visitor and a gracious guest. People themselves are, for the better use of the word, dumb. Dumb I say because not one person would in their lifetime, know all that there is to know in the world. I'm a dumb person because there are so many people, places and things out there that I have no knowledge of. The same is true for all the other people out there, for I am sure that there are things that I know or have done that nobody else has, therefore I have something to contribute. A true traveller is accidentally selfish, not deliberate. Going to say, Vegas or a high end resort just to attempt to "live big" or to "be seen" is deliberate, and quite frankly a waste of valuable time. Accidentally selfish is having a local come up and strike a conversation, hitting some similarities and having them invite you to go and do something, or to learn a bit of history in or about a certain area without having to pay for a tour guide. I'm perfectly happy not going to a hot nightclub or a $50 a plate dinner restaurant because I don't want to be grouped in that false image. Best act of accidental self-indulgence for me...a hour on a beach alone in my thoughts. My friends may be right next to me, but usually in that moment, it's just me and my mind taking in what has been offered to me.
By travelling to places, whether it be a Hawaiian island, the icy tundras of the Norwegian coast, the deserts of Africa or the tropics of South America, there are things to learn and experience.
The costs usually outweigh the benefits on a personal level, for even though you leave a part of yourself there when you leave, most times you are a richer individual as a whole upon your return. Call it an investment tax onto yourself- a personal enrichment fee that nobody can ever take from you.
As we get older we forget most of the time about this investment. We get caught up far too much in our jobs, responsibilities, homes, cars, ipods, computers, who is the next contestant to get kicked off American Idol and such. Less we forget that these things are relatively unimportant in the grander scheme of things. He who finishes with the most toys isn't the true winner of the game. You can't take those with you and you have the possibilities of getting them taken away.
Enrichment, inspiration, solace, bliss and peace of mind are things that can never be removed and can always be recalled upon for an escape. Cherish those moments, and strive to live as much as possible in that moment, whether you share it with another, or just yourself.

Mahalo, mahalo nui loa Hawai'i. Aloha...

Part 6 Day 6- Somber sobriety through reality

Like vultures, the local pigeons knew somehow that we were about to leave, hoping that we'd leave some scrap behind for their welfare. Waking up that morning was the biggest chore we ever had to do this year to date. We did get a good 10 hours of sleep that night, and were glad that we were well rested to travel instead of hungover and hurting on a plane. We had our final breakfast at Smorgy's while Laura slept in. It was unappetizing. Not due to it's lack of flavor, but mentally the flavor was lacking seeing that in a few hours we'd be on a plane back to the real world. After breakfast we walked down to the beach. We spent our entire vacation and not once yet revisited the beach near our hotel. Too touristy anyway. At this time in the morning, usually just the locals are out going amongst their daily business. It's the time of day I like here, where you see the reality of the indigenous peoples. Joggers, dog walkers, people going to work, playing checkers, strumming a guitar, taking time to eat breakfast at a picnic table, or just sitting around having a soda or coffee. It's calm and kick back and it makes you want to become a transplant here living the same lifestyle.

The three of us walked past the statues of Duke greeting the city, arms outstretched, past prince Kuhio, and down to the Waikiki pier. Kids were playing in the calm waters, and you could see fish swimming around in the water below. We sat there soaking in rays and the surroundings while we could, like some parasite hoping to live a little bit healthier off our gracious host and not wanting to leave. Laura met us here and as she showed up, we wanted to move to one of the beachfront veranda areas where there were benches and tables. We found a bench and implanted ourselves for a spell again. Laura stayed for a little bit before heading off to cure an empty stomach and enjoying a short lay out on the beach. We stayed on the bench, silent in our thoughts letting whatever stress melt away, knowing that soon it would start to rebuild again in a few days.

A hour later we needed to leave and get ready to check out. Crystal grabbed a couple of handfuls of Waikiki sand to take home. Pele's curse would ring true after this act. I thought that it just applied to lava rocks, but tradition beckoned that anything removed from the island would be cursed. As soon as she took the sand and got back to the room to pack it started. She dropped her cell phone 3 stories onto the rooftop below the balcony, shattering it into two parts. After our maintenance man helped up retrieve it, we packed up, checked out, bidded Laura farewell (she had a later flight) and waited for a taxi outside. Crystal got gum on her shoe. Then our taxi driver got somewhat lost in the airport. I wasn't about to deal with a messed up cursed plane ride. I grabbed Crystal's suitcase and removed the bag of sand, leaving it on the airport curb. Our problems ceased after that and made for only a depressing plane ride back instead of a cursed one. The only solace I got on the ride home was scrolling through the pictures on my camera of the previous 5 days, forming a bittersweet smile on my face.

Part 5 - Operation Deep Blue

We awoke as early as we could have, but definitely not as late as we wanted to. The day before worked us hard. Little did we know that we were going to do ourselves in today. We had a whale watching cruise scheduled for today off the shores of Waikiki, so after a quick and light breakfast at where?? (Smorgy's) We headed back to the room, Chris and I returned the rental car while the girls shopped, popped some Dramamine just in case and then waited outside for our bus pickup at 11am.
We got picked up and dropped off at the harbor, boarded our ship and went through the standard briefing on what to expect to do and see. It went on for a while and I was expecting a timeshare shpeel any minute. We were then cut loose to have lunch, cocktails and to explore the ship and its 3 decks.






























































It was supposed to be a 3 hour tour...a three hour tour...
I stayed outside most of the time, as breezy as it was...waiting for any whale sightings. We got great views of Diamondhead and areas past it along the windward side. Still no whales. We got an occasional blowout from one, but still nothing.




We turned around after an hour and a half and were re-approaching the harbor when finally, our guides announced whales off the starboard side. We were so close to a free cruise too (a guarantee that the company gave if we saw nothing) I was about to declare shenanigans, but finally I saw activity. We turned around and followed them for a while, catching up to them, then losing them for another hour. Our tour up, we turned back again and headed into port, passing fellow sailors and barges leaving to sea.

























We got back into port, returned to our hotel, relaxed and lost our sea legs before heading out our final afternoon to catch a shuttle to the Ala Moana Center for some shopping and the Mai Tai bar. Got the shuttle and immediately hit rush hour traffic. What would have normally taken 15 minutes turned into an hour, but we finally arrived. We got into the Harley Davidson Honolulu shop, T&C Surf, Hilo Hatties and other shops to get our fill of personal shopping that we couldn't get back home. Done with shopping, we hit the open air Mai Tai bar in on the roof level in the center of the center. Happy hour equals happy patrons. $7 pitchers of microbrews, cheap apps (pupus) and live music while you sit in comfy veranda furniture and couches. Soaking up the atmosphere, clean air and slight breeze (along with cocktails), we were happy campers.




















I got my long awaited calamari fix and tried a few new and tasty dishes. We were there only barely 2 hours, but it had felt like time slipped away longer than that before we remembered that we needed to catch the 8pm free trolley back to Waikiki or else a taxi would be our only option. We departed and got our ride and returned to the room. One by one, the Mai Tai bar's effects doubled with the Dramamine took us all out. We were supposed to relax and regroup to head out for our last night in paradise, but we all ended up taking power naps that turned into comas. We took turns waking up after 1130pm, but by then it was too late to go out, so we just fell back asleep in our clothes for the night.

4 physical whores on day 4-Day 4 part 4 subchapter3

We left the temples a little more tranquil than ever before and headed over to Kailua to check out the beaches on the windward side. Going into uncharted territory, we drove around semi-aimlessly through the town of Kailua and surrounding neighborhoods, around needless detours and construction before saying screw it and picking a direction to keep driving in until we reached a beach. Turned out to be the right way. We ran straight into Kailua Beach Park. We stopped at a general store that had a deli and had the tastiest turkey avocado club on wheat ever. Headed to the beach and were greeted with an uncrowded teal paradise.


















Only a small handful of people were on this section of the beach. The waters were calm and clear. Sand was powdery and flawless, and went out into the surf, staying shallow, waist deep for 50 yards. After lounging in the water for a while, a local sea turtle floated in to inspect the humans in his pool. Crystal got adventurous and I agreed to give her a crash course in snorkeling. This being only the second time ever her being in the ocean, I though it was going to be a daunting task. Advice on putting fins on, mask and snorkel adjustments, practicing floating heads down to learn to absorb and go with the motion of the waves, and finally getting over the psychosomatic reflexes of being underwater and breathing through a tube. She passed with flying colors. There was nothing to see here at this beach though, all sand. After a few hours we left to head south and try to catch Hanuama Bay before last call and park closing. Turns out she needed the crash course as we got there with an hour to snorkel.



















Since it was close to closing time, the admissions desk was empty, so it was free time today. Didn't have to watch the mandatory movie on snorkel safety either, just had to walk down to the beach. We walked down the side of the destroyed caldera and tossed our things on the beach. No fins here today, it was standable for 100 yards, and beyond that you could swim with no waves. The look on Crystal's face was priceless when she saw her first fishes. It was equivalent to swimming in your aquarium, the only thing that was missing was the treasure chest and scuba steve's bubbles. We made use of our underwater cameras and got a good 45 minutes of swimming in before getting hauled in before the park closed, but we could have easily swam for hours.
We left Hanuama and the day settled itself on us. We did in one day what some people would have done in 3. Climbed mountains, hiked trails, soaked in rays, swam with the native wildlife and found tranquility in simplicity.
Later on that night we attempted to go out for dinner and drinks, and made a valiant attempt at it, but after 2 places and a few drinks we were whipped and called it a day.

4 physical whores on day 4-Day 4 part 4 subchapter2

Leaving Diamondhead and the Honolulu area, we headed up to the windward (east) coast of Oahu near Kaneohe and Kailua.



















Our first stop here was at the Valley of the Temples, north of Kaneohe. It is a large, multi-denominational cemetery and shrine complex complete with a replica of the Japanese Buddhist temple in Japan ( I forgot it's actual name). The gardens and grounds are kept up immaculately. It sounds segregated, but all the burial areas are divided up by religions. Buddhists in sections, Christians and catholics in another, Jewish, Hindu, etc. The highlight, of course is the actual temple.

This temple is laboriously kept up to perfection, and is one of the areas that tourists don't really know about. We were alone there except for about 5 other people for quite some time. Upon entry, you are permitted to ring the large copper bell in front, in fact, are encouraged to do so, for luck.



The whole complex is covered with endemic plants and flowers, strategically placed koi ponds and short waterfalls and adjacent buildings. It is by far one of the more tranquil places I've been at. The sound of flowing water, birds and a slight breeze created a hypnotic state. All we were missing was the sound of monks chanting. We were allowed to go inside the main temple for a bit after removing our shoes. It was quiet and reflective. Incense was burning, flower arrangements were offered and people were sitting around with their own thoughts.























It was rejuvenating to be here, and to stroll around the grounds. I would have left here totally at peace if it wasn't for me noticing something bad that caught my eye. Towards the back of the complex was a rather large grove of bamboo growing. I though it was super cool and went to take a picture of it. After I did, I looked at my camera and saw that it came out funny, like the bamboo was awkward. I looked up from my camera to the actual bamboo itself and saw what was wrong...


















What I thought were just scratches on the bamboo was actually graffiti. Apparently tourists think it's a good idea to carve into the bamboo with their names, dates, scribblings, and profanity to leave their mark here. There was not one clean and bare piece of bamboo untainted. This upset me. To take an area that is still relatively pure, untainted and peaceful and to ruin it like this is disgraceful. I actually felt a little embarrassed to be a human here. To my surprise, it wasn't isolated to only the bamboo. Towards the front of the temple, large low hanging trees with broad waxy leaves shaded the walkway. Apparently people carved into the leaves too.
We still left this place healthier in the soul, but a bit ashamed at heart.
Next stop-Kailua & Hanauma Bay

4 physical whores on day 4-Day 4 part 4 subchapter1

Since when does physical efforts that involve combining a triathlon and Navy seal training make for a vacation day? Thankfully here it does, and we all welcomed it on this 4th day. Gameplan-wake up at 8 to hit Smorgy's (of course) for a power breakfast. Light today though, nobody went in for a second course. That would have been ill advised, considering that you will be climbing the near vertical face of an extinct volcano this fine morning and would just result in you expeditiously expelling said heavy meal along the hiking trail.
We dressed for the entire day-boardshorts, swim suits and tank tops, with shoes for the first half of the day and flip flops for later.
Enter Diamond Head. It really wasn't too crowded for a Friday morning, about 74 degrees, sunny, with a slight breeze. We made sure to dump the tanks at the bathrooms before ascending and then started our climb. The first half of the trail looks strangely like Sonoran high desert. Mesquite looking trees and cactus (by the way, cactus was imported here and is looked upon as a nasty addition) with high shrubs and grass. In fact a good portion of the southeastern island is this way, due to it being the windward side, it gets the least rainfall.
The second half of the climb is where the real work begins. Shade is near non-existent, and you are led along a switchback trail with a mix of staircases, light bouldering, and uneven rock until you arrive at your first staircase leading to the tunnel and the bunker complex.
The tunnel is a nice retreat from the heat, and allows for ample random groping of loved ones or complete strangers.
We got to the end of the tunnel, which is 3/4 of the way up, and before us stood the Goliath that was the hardest parts of the trail.
























This woman's gaze says it all. We just popped out of the tunnel exit (to her right) and this pic was taken at the last rest stop on the ascent. Crystal was hurting bad, years of smokes and lack of exercise rendered her near collapse. She wanted to give up, but we fed her water and let her rest for 15 minutes as we chatted with some locals enjoying the view.
We bolstered Crystal's morale and pressed forward up the staircase of doom.



Once through the top bunker, around the corner, up 2 more small staircases, we finally arrived at the top, where we were greeted with a constant cool breeze, great views of the entire area and the personal satisfaction for making it to the top. I was happy that Chris finally made it this year up to the top, and extremely proud that Crystal suffered through it. It re-invents yourself to know you can strive to make yourself complete a task, and I think that's what she needed to have happen.


















We took our pictures, cooled off and rested for a bit before descending the same way. A whole lot easier going DOWN I tell you...
From there we got back into the car and headed East towards the Valley of the Temples, Kailua beach and Hanauma Bay.

Part 3, Day 3-Cuninary treats and sandy feets

Day three was our first relaxing non-structured day to ourselves. Something wasn't right though, as we've been here 3 days and was missing something...oh yeah, Smorgy's for breakfast!!! The main reason we chose our hotel again (besides being centrally located) was that simply the best restaurant ever for breakfast was half a block away. We cruised over there at 8:30am and paid our $6.95 for all the breakfast we could eat. Fresh cut pineapple, papaya, melons. Tater-tots,eggs, muffins, rice, sausage, french toast, pancakes, beef hash (which was made from the previous night's prime rib...yum!), juice and hot coffee...all eaten at leisure on the open air front patio...life is good my friends, life is good.
We split after a tasty meal, got the rental car and packed up for our North Shore day. On the way up there though, I had to make a personal stop for something I haven't had in about 15 years. Hot, fresh malasadas. Malawhowhats??? Ma-la-saw-daz...



















One nice thing about Hawai'i is that there is a very large Portuguese population there. Go figure, the Azores islands off Portugal are tropical and volcanic...so is Hawaii. We headed over to Leonard's bakery, two miles from our hotel, king of the malasadas on Oahu, if not Hawaii. The last time I had these tasty treats was over 15 years ago in my grandma's old house, back when she regularly made them. Imagine a donut without the hole, stretched out to a somewhat round shape, drop fried till golden brown and slightly crispy on the outside, then immediately rolled in sugar so you get some of the sugar crystallized in a glaze and some of it granulated. Suckers are like 500 cals each, but hell with it, I ordered a dozen...fresh, literally made to order. Forget sex, this is better.
I also got a small loaf of Portuguese sweet bread. Kind of like Hawaiian sweet bread(you've seen it in the stores), but better, the Hawaiians copied it from us.
Our bellies even fatter and happier with nostalgic family treats, we hit up the North Shore.
First stop, Haleiwa, the center for North Shore surfing. Apparently there was going to the women's pipeline series next week, but nobody was up there practicing. We found the International surf museum there, which was more of a historical surf shack, but had some really cool old history in it, run by an old school surf bum from the longboard days. We walked around the small shops, clothing stores and surf shops for a bit before venturing further along the coast to visit some of the historic surf beaches along the way.


















It was nice to finally get my feet wet in the surf. Water, like semi-tepid, brisk at first bath water, greeted your skin, while the blue water vision in front of you distracted you from the small chill at first. Up the beach, a large sea turtle had beached itself to relax and sun itself as a crowd of onlookers gathered. It was more entertaining to him I think, looking at all the strange creatures looking at him.



















We left there and headed down to Waimea Beach park, a calm sandy bay further east. Perfect conditions here. A slight breeze, no clouds, 80 degrees, and being the middle of the week, not too crowded. We laid out for a while, floated in the water for a good time too. It was super-chill and soul revitalizing and far too short-lived, but we had other places to be.



















Such as our random in the middle of nowhere bar, Malekos...which was...freggin closed for remodeling! Dammit!!! Guess we'll have to go next year :-)
By now, we had started getting tired and still needed to drive home to the hotel, during rush hour(which definitely sucks on an island.) We finished our island circle drive and arrived back in the Honolulu area via the windward (east) side of the island. Time for dinner. What's for early dinner?? Teddy's of course. Teddy's bigger burgers got tested out last year, but Chris missed out, so we had to revisit it. Well worth it folks. Forget McDonald's secret sauce, this stuff took the cake.
We get back into the hotel, de-gear, shower and rest for a few hours before getting ready to head back out for the night. Ready to go, we hit up the Shorebird restaurant and bar in the Outrigger Reef hotel on the west end of Waikiki. Low key, not crowded, live music and lapping of waves 20 feet away from you. We had a few drinks there before looking for a different venue.
We walked around and headed back to the Honolulu Tavern, which we promptly left due to an individual in need of personal deodorant. Tired and almost ready to call it a night, Chris, Crystal and I went back to the room to have a nightcap and play "Ho or No" while a more energetic Laura went solo to Moose's. A party animal, she made some new friends and partied the night away at a few other places and returned early the next morning.
We had a few more beers in the hotel room before passing out after a long day.

Hawaii pics

Minnie Me!! Stop humping "the laser" !!!!

Hawaii pics are up on shutterfly

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Part 2- Why we fight

December 7th, 1941. You can try to explain the feelings you have when you are here, but it never comes out right. How can you truly describe what it is to be on the spot where over 1200 men died and still remain, let alone being in the area where over the course of 2 hours, over 2500 people were killed? It is something that changes the way you look at things. 1200 sailors, husbands, brothers, sons, fathers. Most were between the ages of 18 and 22. A father and son died here together, along with a few pairs of brothers. Men just doing a job on a peaceful Sunday morning. Most were eating breakfast, waking up or finishing attending Sunday services. Nobody knew what was about to happen, and because of that, we lost a lot of good people and were immediately forced into WWII. This isn't a place where you have to try and fight back tears. It's useless. There is no point in being too proud to mourn here, in fact, it's almost insulting if one is insensitive and unfazed here. Tourists, foreigners, and ignorant people unfortunately are abundant here. Men refuse to remove their hats here. Japanese tourists flock here in some form of past glory. These people shouldn't be here. I usually leave here saddened, humbled, thankful, and a little bit angry from said above people.Amazing how people don't understand what they need to, all the while as oil still bubbles to the surface of the stricken vessel.


























After the quiet boat ride back to the main area that Wednesday morning, we had some extra time to look around the memorial center. I got a few items from the gift shop-a shirt, and two flags that were flown on the Arizona late last year. A small 3x5 one I gave to my bosses Greg and Mike, which was flown on Dec 7th 2006 at 7:44pm, on the 65th anniversary of the attack. The second one, a bit bigger, I kept-It was flown on Sept. 11th last year at a commemorative ceremony in remembrance of 2001's attack in NY. These flags will never be flown again, they have too much honor in them. We left the memorial and linked up back with our tour group to head over to the USS Missouri. This harbor is unique now, for it has the places that began and ended the war. Chris, Crystal and I made our way to the massive ship via shuttle. Kevin was our custom tour guide instead of the park docent we had 4 years ago. He turned out to be much more informed that the others.

We toured the entire vessel (where allowed), from the bow to the bowels of the ship.
























We left the old girl smelling of cosmolene and war grease. It smelled like triumph.
We were left to our own devices for a hour before needing to meet up with the group to depart, so on the way out I humped a mine and then we went to grab a burger for lunch.



















The tour left the harbor and we got the extended tour through Chinatown, the capitol, royal palaces and finally through Punchbowl cemetery. We were eager to see George again, the VFW park docent we had the pleasure of walking with last time. Kevin informed us that George works there Weds, so we were in luck. We pulled unfortunately to see that he wasn't there. Another VFW docent, Bernard, was to be our guide because George's wife had fallen ill. Concerned and downhearted, we forwarded our condolences through him and pressed on with the tour. Bernard didn't get into the same detail as George did 4 years ago, but he did give us additional info that George didn't. Certain sections of the cemetery were technically tombs of the unknown soldiers through the wars. He pointed out certain graves and memorials that added to our knowledge.
We started our day before light, at 5am. It was now 3pm, a long day. But we were still determined to make somewhat of a night out of it. We got back into our room, showered, rested and regrouped. Papi got a second wind and decided that he needed to test his surfing ability on the ironing board. For his safety, he only got one leg on and 5 toes on the nose.
























We heard good reviews about the Harbor pub, near Honolulu marina, so we got a taxi there and turned out to be some of the best pizza I've had in years. Reminiscent of Round Table pizza back home when I was in elementary school (before they got corporate and crappy). We had a few rounds of drinks, watched the sunset over the ships and let our evening commence.



















Opon leaving, we decided to try and hit up the Row bar, near the Aloha towers area. Apparently our directions were skewed as we thought we were close enough for walking distance. A nice 2 miles later and 1 pee break along the way, we stumbled in after a 40 minute walk. We all agreed to take a taxi home when the time came. We grabbed a table and met up with Laura's new friend Andy, whom she met at Duke's the night before after we crashed out for the night. We all warmed up after a little bit and soon we were joking and having a good time. The group agreed to leave, to the 5 of us crammed into a taxi (literally, like beyond sardines...I got a semi personal lap dance from Crystal and Chris.) Andy shuttled us to a dive bar called Arnold's. Total hole in the wall complete with strangers talking to themselves. At least it was entertaining. You learned to make friends early here, as to limit the number of your enemies. At least the crowd was mixed as to not feel that out of place. Drinks were steep, which lightened our moods a bit more. After a bit though, it got boring, so we once again voted to relocate while walking towards the hotel. Last stop, Honolulu Tavern, 1/2 block from our hotel. Talk about super cheap!! It's a locals bar, so annoying tourists need not apply, which is fine by us. It was the most comfortable place I had found yet. Hot bartenders that pour very steep for next to nothing. Complimentary chips, popcorn or this night they had pork rinds(yuk). We have a few more there before heading back to the room. We started a new game that night called "Ho or No". Rules are simple. Get back to your hotel room and get on the balcony. Look at the street below and point out girls if they are Hoes or Not. Simple and fun if you are drunk. What a fun way to end the night after a long day-heckling hookers.

Paradise Lost...Now (part 1, Day1)

Tired,weary and unfortunately pre-sunburned from camping in the desert for 4 days, I did the only thing besides sleep that I could think of to recover...take a 5 day vacation to Hawaii. Yes, you're hating me right now. That's cool, besides, I don't really care. After de-gearing, scrubbing and packing all over again, we got a wonderful 7 hour nap to wake up at the crack of dawn to leave Tuesday morning at 5 am. Chris shows up with breakfast-2 breakfast jacks for each of us. Gonna need something to soak up the in-flight booze. Munch it down and we're on our way. Hit up the airport and immediately start fighting the usual lines through check-in and security. About 40% of the line was old midwesterners that forgot to turn up their Del-tones for security instructions so that they didn't remove all unnecessary items before screening. So after dealing with one hour and 10 minutes of all the normal people and the 35 elderly people that hadn't pre-removed their watches, jewelry, fanny packs, necklaces or open containers of soda, we are late for boarding. We get on the plane and we're off...no WAIT! One of the gate attendants fetches me and escorts me out of the plane because I missed a critical selective security screening. Good to know that our security staff is on point. Apparently they missed seeing a code on my stub to pull me aside. I get escorted clear back to the screening area and am stripped of my wallet, backpack, belt, shoes, and hat. All of which is thoroughly hand inspected. I am wanded, frisked, wanded again and more thoroughly frisked and padded down by a man resembling Wilford Brimley-very scary...I am traumatized against oatmeal now...
Good to know that they held the plane for me. I get back and immediately wish I had a drink and a smoke after being violated. No matter, for soon I am airborne and out of this forsaken desert hell hole.
Arrival goes drama free this time. Nobody lost their wallet and there was no police involvement (see last years posts). We de-gear, make a quick run across the street to get groceries and pop and have the first of many well deserved beers and cocktails. While imbibing on our room lanai, I meet one of any of my beach trip goals and locate the most hideous display of old tan German banana-hammock ass to date...



















What the hell is with foreigners and speedos? Classic. Thought I'd share it with you. You got it easy- this was 4 stories down from our room at the pool at all times.
So we leave the German bikini team behind and head off to, where-else??




















Duke's! For our first traditional Mai Tai's of the trip. Tasty goodness, right on the beach. We ordered some grub, Crystal got wasted right quick (empty stomach) and we all soaked in the fact that we were to have no worries for 5 days. It's a very nice feeling to have, being carefree.
In fact, it's how everyone lives here. Life, literally, is a beach. Must be rough eh? Even the local wildlife is laid back, such as these feathered friends chilling on the ground 2 feet from our table.



















We leave Duke's around 5 to head back to our hotel and meet up with our 4th travel companion, Laura. Not before Chris stops on the way out to strike a pose with the restaurant's namesake
























At this point in time, we are slightly buzzed to drunk, and definitely fat and happy. What's missing? Titties of course! No problem, just look to your local street corner


























We get back to the room and eventually meet up with Laura. We hit the hotel pool for a little, but end up not going in, just lounging at the pool bar before heading back to get ready to go out at night. Chris is whooped by the time we leave for the night, so he stays while the girls and I trek out to Moose's for a bite and cocktails. It's dead, so we eat and split. Head back to the room around 10 and Crystal and I are done, besides we have to get up at 5am to get our tour bus manana, so sleep would b a good idea. Laura ended up going out back to Duke's and making a friend named Andy who is one of the lead chefs at the Hilton resort. Always god to make new friends for future reference....On to part deux!!!

King of the world for 5 days

What would you give for 5 days of memories that last a lifetime? Of seeing things never saw before, or even one's that you may not even see again? An opportunity to embrace history, culture, sport, indulgence, relaxation, meditation, physical stamina, a carefree attitude, and a love for the outdoors without the confines of work, bills, traffic(for the most part), or any other stresses. In fact, the only things you have to worry about is applying the right amount of sunblock, whether you will catch this shuttle or wait until the next one and whether you should stick with beer or go to hard booze to go along with your calamari dinner. Throw in a super cool-retro pair of aviator sunglasses you find in the street walking to the hotel one day, and you got yourself a trip to the islands.

I'll be documenting our last trip here in 6 part installments, circa Dirty Ryan's travel website "The Bear". I'll post up pics and video where applicable and tell you all our tales of travel. Stick around...