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New Year, Same Old Chimps
New Year's Day 2002
Here it is, the start of a new year. I'm still sunburned. I did my houseboy chores and I also washed my beloved six-four. I washed the interior of my six-four thoroughly. Actually, it's a lot easier than a car. All I do is spray Simple Green all over everything, then I scrub like crazy with a brush. Finally, I use a hose to rinse everything off. None of that vacuuming and detailing crap.
To end the day, I had to drop back three cans of Guiness. First, I had to drive my six-four down to Foodland to buy another eight-pack of Guiness. My bro and I drank about twelve cans yesterday. I did not get to sleep until 2:30am, mainly because of the noise. I also had to peruse my new hurdy-gurdy DVDs. So, I was pretty fatigued for most of the day. My bro did not stop by, which was for the better. We would have probably ended up droppin' back hella Guiness.
I finally made accommodations for the LoserNet site to be archived on my beloved iBook. I will spend some time this evening downloading the files. I may eventually get around to sprucing up the site after all. However, in my fragile mental state, not much can be counted upon. Sheesh! My beloved iBook has proven to be an excellent computer. So far, OS X has been the best operating system I have ever used. I really hope that Apple never goes under. The Macintosh computer is a superior product to the pathetic Wintel boxes. Well, I'll spend the rest of the evening with my beloved iBook. I'll do the usual routine on the Net. Later, I may have to peruse my hurdy-gurdy DVDs again. What a great unpaid vacation, eh? Don't you wish that you could be livin' large like the ol' lavahead?
Wednesday January 2
Moms and I arrived at Kahala Mall around noon. We ate lunch at the Panda Express. I really like the food at Panda, although many other people do not care for it. After lunch, moms did a little shopping. People were driving me crazy because they were all walking around in a comatose chimp-like state and getting in my way. I wanted to break out my can of pepper spray, but I restrained myself. Mom and I ended up waiting two hours for the bus. I was on the verge of violence. I was certain that the whole problem centered on lousy service. Then, I came to discover that we had missed the bus by a few minutes because of our own stupidity. After returning home, I caught the bus to Koko Marina so I could go to gym. I did a quick, mediocre weight workout. This was chest day. I tried to push myself again on the Transporter-like machine. I'm not up to where I was a week ago. However, I am not certain, but I believe that I may have been going in reverse and that's why the effort was much easier. I became aware of this possibility earlier this week, coincidentally when I was not able to match my performance of the week prior. Am I that much of a maroon to have been using the damned machine incorrectly? Am I a chimp, or what?
I was up late last night. At midnight, about five cars entered the cul de sac. One of the pimped-out Hondas (read: Riceboy) had music blaring full blast. Naturally, it must have had a subwoofer as well because the bass was shaking the house. The young ho' and her friends were out in the middle of the cul de sac having a Ho' Down. They were yelling, screaming, laughing as loud as possible, and running amuck. This went on for half an hour. No one called the cops. I was surprised. Since I'm on unpaid vacation, that crap didn't bother me at all. However, I predicted that this kind of nonsense would eventually happen. Now, I need to seriously consider the acquisition of a "nine." A 9mm Smith & Wesson, to be exact. I could settle for a Glock. Yep, sooner or later, these wannabe "gangstas" are going to arm themselves as well. I've got to be ready to take them out. Mind you, I would warn all of them that I am a peace-loving monk prior to perforating everything in sight. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaa! "You chimps want some bananas? Here, take this!" Booyah!
Thursday January 3
I have perused a few of my archived journal chapters and observed that they do not seem to display properly in Netscape 6.2 (what I use now). I then realized that I had used FrontPage Express to create them. I am a little perturbed about this. In my fragile mental state, I do not want to commit myself to such a tedious task as editing badly formatted Web pages. This is the kind of mediocre crap that poor, destitute losers like myself must put up with.
I spent most of my day sitting in my beloved resin chair for a change. The weather has turned hot again. I'm afraid we're in for a dry Winter. I decided to take a few measurements of the loser's physique for no other purpose than the fact that I was bored.
|2002 Physique Measurements for Ol' Lavahead
|| 33" Booyah!
| Shoulder Width
| Biceps Circumference
| Vienna Sausage Length
Well, it looks as though I've been eating too much during this unpaid vacation. The ol' gut is getting huge. I've been chowing down on Spam, ice cream, mixed nuts, cake, cold cuts, candy, and all kinds of other food. Not to mention the large quantities of Guiness being consumed regularly. And, with my cholesterol level at 240 or so, I should be more cautious. Well, that's why I forced myself to go to the gym this afternoon. I only did my cardio workout, but that's what I need. I guess the good part about returning to the salt mines next week is that I'll be going back to my spartan lunch consisting of two plain bagels.
I have only three days left before I return to wage slavery. I am not looking forward to Monday. I hope that I can change my attitude about the salt mines. Mostly, the problem stems from the nut cases that I have to deal with. I have no idea why people enjoy making life a living hell for other people. That's the chimp mentality. That why you always hear these fools say stupid crap like, "It's a jungle out there." I suppose it would be different if I had a family to support. Without such a commitment, I have no reason to remain indentured forever as a wage slave.
I'm going to enjoy my last three days of this fine unpaid vacation as best as possible. This, of course, means more quality time in my beloved resin chair or in my favorite chair. I have no place to go, no one to see, and nothing to buy. I may even spend more quality time with my beloved iBook. Sheesh!
Friday January 4
Man, I can't believe how out of shape I am. My pectorals have shrunk and my abdominal muscles are like Jello-O. I am turning into a slob. This is outrageous! Well, I'm at that age now where I'm picking up speed on the downhill slide. Heck, I've already been making old man noises now for at least two years. I'm not liking this old man stuff. By the way, I forgot to include the Vienna Sausage measurement, so I appended it to the table.
I decided to take the bus to Kahala Mall so I could spend some time at Barnes & Noble. I spent about 40 minutes there. Then, I took the next bus home. I have lost all interest in hanging out there. Since I have no intention of buying anything, I really have no place to go. I did enjoy the times when I used to go to Barnes & Noble every Friday and Saturday evening. I took my beloved notebook computer with me. I would drink coffee and work on the journal. Watching all of the fools milling about was entertaining. I would also read a few books and magazines. I don't know why I've lost interest in that banal activity.
Moms also went to Kahala Mall. Moms brought home an Unagi (broiled eel) bento. Yum! I had to walk to the gym this afternoon. Usually, I take the bus to Koko Marina. However, the bus was apparently five minutes early. I always walk home from the gym as part of my cooldown. Well, I shouldn't complain. The additional walking may help to reduce the size of the spare tire that I have developed around my waist. I resumed my yardboy chores, specifically the hill project. I may devote a few more hours tomorrow, but Sunday is going to be a day of rest. I have to prepare myself mentally to return to the salt mines.
Saturday January 5
I am not sure why I have been extremely fatigued every morning during my unpaid vacation. I have been sleeping in until 7:30am, so getting plenty of rest is not the issue. Even after a few cups of coffee, I am still groggy for the rest of the day. Perhaps it's due to the mental anguish that I am going through, knowing how I must eventually return to wage slavery. Last night, I had a nauseous dream that I was back at the Asylum. I was facilitating a class and became extremely agitated at the students. At least the House of Lolo has been quiet. The lolo apparently returned Wednesday evening, so some semblance of order has been restored.
I spent most of the day working on the hill project. I have been removing large patches of overgrown wild grass. I've also been filling the uneven portions of the yard with excess soil from the hill project. The soil is in bad shape. It is more like dust. There is also a lot of gravel mixed in. Moms wants to keep the gravel mixed in with the soil. I have been tediously removing the gravel when I can because, as anyone can see, nothing grows in gravel. From what I can tell, most of the erosion has been caused by the gravel. It's pointless for me to argue this point with moms. That's why moms still saves and reuses those stupid styrofoam trays used to package meat products. That's also why moms continues to mix chlorine bleach with other chemicals and sprays lizards with air freshener. This is an on-going story that's best forgotten.
I had to drop back three cans of Guiness this afternoon. I had nothing else to do since I did not go to the gym. There were a variety of topics I wanted to discuss in the journal, but the Guiness somehow stifled my thoughts. That's obviously the main advantage of the fire water. Sheesh! One more day left before I return to the salt mines.
Sunday January 6
I looked back in time one year ago through the journal. Not much has changed. eh? I also noted the many problems caused by the use of FrontPage Express. Why did I even believe that I could trust any of Bill's products? I removed that damned Internet Explorer from my iBook about a month ago. In fact, I never used it. I was appalled to even see it installed on an Apple product. Now I've got 38 files to fix. At the least, I'm actually happy that Netscape didn't bite the dust.
I'm not a conspiracy nut, but I have to tell you that the Al Martin Raw site is outrageous. His stories are probably true, and many of them are hilarious. That's probably why they're true. I'm always at the edge of my seat as I wait for the latest update from Al and his buddy, the "friendly colonel." It's actually worth reading all of Al's articles. And, he was smart enough not to use FrontPage Express.
I managed to devote quite a few hours to remedy the fiasco created by FrontPage Express. At least I was also able to correct the myriad spelling errors in the journal. I read select portions of the journal, only to be appalled by the sheer stupidity of my own ramblings. This was most prevalent during my so-called "time of reckoning." What a bunch of crap! I was lamenting at the Wailing Wall big time, and for what? I have come a long way since that time. I suppose that it makes for good reading, primarily for people who may be going through similar experiences. In retrospect, I have to say that it was all a waste of time and energy. I will never repeat the same mistake again. I have more important situations to contemplate, like my plight as a wage slave. By the way, I thought I would throw in one of the babe pictures that I haven't seen in a long time. What a hottie!
I went to the gym this afternoon. The place was packed, most likely because the weather wasn't too good. I didn't do anything else because I must mentally prepare to return to the salt mines tomorrow. I'm not thrilled, but I'm ready to go back and put up with the usual oppressive losers at the Asylum. I have two weeks before classes resume at the university. Same old, same old. When you've seen one chimp, you've seen them all.
Monday January 7
My beloved iBook froze on me for the first time since installing OS X. Actually, I believe that Netscape froze the Finder as I tried to exit the application. Not bad, considering that I had opened and closed about 25 Netscape windows in the span of two hours. And, I also had several other applications open at the same time. Well, Steve Jobs announced the new iMacs and iBooks at Macworld Expo this morning. It's too bad that I couldn't wait until now to switch. I'm still perfectly content with my iBook.
The first day back in the salt mines wasn't too bad. However, Ron, one of my students at the Asylum, is having a tough time. Took him a while before he admitted that he has discovered that his wife may be having an affair. Ron was in the military but is currently inactive. His wife is currently active. Ron believes that she is having an affair with an officer. A major, no less. "Thank goodness for technology," he kept telling me. Finally, he showed me a stack of e-mail printouts. He then pointed to his ring finger with just a circular tan line where his wedding band used to be.
I restored my monk haircut later. Then, I discovered that I forgot to pack my gym socks, so I couldn't go to the gym. I walked over to the university and ended up in the faculty computer room. No one was around, so I just spent some time on the Net. I used Google to find that my ex-babe, Susan, is still in Cali and is still married to Dick. I also happened to find a picture of Malia standing with a young girl posted on the Star-Bulletin site. The caption indicated that she was with her stepdaughter. Say, what? She had also used her real first name, which she often told me that she really didn't care much for. My guess is that I was right all along. Malia has hooked up with some guy in haste. That explains why she didn't attend the university in Fall. That also explains why I rarely hear from her. I just wish her the best. As Ron said, "Thank goodness for technology."
Pseudo-professor John (not my former Computer Science colleague) popped in to the faculty computer room a few minutes later. He and I ended up talking for about two hours. We discussed our classroom adventures. He also is employed by Heald College, which is a competitor to the Asylum. Somehow, we ended up talking about babes and the single life. Pseudo-professor John is thinking about hooking up with a babe from out of the country. He wants someone with old fashioned values and morals, unlike the vast wasteland of materialistic and scandalous babes we are accustomed to. He has been corresponding with a couple of babes in the Philippines. Later, he admitted to me that he had already traveled there once to meet them. I warned him to be careful because there are many babes in other countries who would stop at nothing to instantly become a citizen here. Then, they dump their sponsors to find rich guys. That's the real meaning of the "American success story."
Mark was on the same express bus as I this afternoon. We caught up on the latest news, which really didn't amount to much. Both of us seem to live sedate lives. We talked of retirement, but that's all it was. There is no way that either of us will be able to retire within five years, no less ten years. Can the journal survive that long?
Tuesday January 8
I had a discussion with the Associate Dean, one of Roach's minions, about the dress code incident (see the December 21, 2001 entry). She asked if I had some stylish sweats that I could wear after I'm done at the gym. Who the hell is going to buy those faggot sweats for me? I'm certainly not going to pay for them myself. I decided that I would just go to the university and hang out after the gym. That would solve this whole stupid mess. "We don't want to inconvenience you or force you out," she added. Well, you already did, you stupid bitch. The whole Asylum is a joke. It's not an educational institution. It's a daycare center for intelligence-impaired (read: brain donors) adults. I had a chat with Kevin, another faculty member. He feels the same way about the pathetic "micromanaging." The faculty are always at the brunt of the politics. The buck stops with us. And, conveniently, the blame also stops with us when things don't go right. This is also the case at the university because all education systems follow a strict "good ol' boy" pecking order. The real problem is that the faculty is not cohesive as a unit and it is also detached from the administration. Therefore, we make perfect scapegoats and punching bags. In the meantime, the "country club" set sit around and collect large paychecks, all the while concocting mischief to inflict on the poor faculty.
Well, the new iMac is being called the iLamp by many Apple forums members. It does look like a desk lamp, but I like it. There's also a new iBook with a larger screen. I could really use that, but I am satisfied with my iBook. I'll be downloading and installing iPhoto tonight, although my Fuji digital camera cannot interface with my iBook. Sheesh! I'm about ready to order more hurdy-gurdy DVDs for my collection. What does that mean?
Wednesday January 9
I have been following my plan. I go to the gym, and then I hang out at the university until it's time to catch the first express bus out of the salt mines. To celebrate this fiasco, I have come up with the "Dress Code Challenge" for my students. Each student in my classes can earn up to 100 points extra by "dressing for success," as the Asylum staff likes to put it. The catch is that everyone must participate, otherwise the deal is off. They must also continue wearing the "success" attire for at least a month. With those points, they can "buy" an exam. What a great new method to implement grade inflation, eh? Frankly, the petty "micromanaging" has made me extremely fatigued. I happened to talk with Kevin again today. He also expressed a similar displeasure with what's been going on. He also admitted that he goes home at night feeling stressed out from all the crap. "All of this is not making teaching very fun," he said. No kidding.
I'm a little stressed out as well. Everything would work out just fine if these idiots could figure out that they are the ones who screw up all the time. The pathological need for control is really a subset of greed. Greed for power, that is. Of course, I am the only one who is always close to getting the heave-ho. My competence and knowledge (for what that's worth) are the only assets that keep me employed. I'm certainly not winning any popularity contests. I also told the Associate Dean yesterday that she should notify the library staff that the dress code must be enforced. "I've already told them that they should kick me out when they see me wearing inappropriate clothing. However, you have to mandate that policy. I'm not their boss," I said. The Dean only gave me a puzzled look, which only meant that she was too scared to issue such a mandate. I constantly call these fools on these inconsistencies. That's going to be my demise.
I downloaded iPhoto last night, although I have no use for it. My iBook is completely equipped as a digital hub. Sooner or later, I will upgrade my toys to interface with my iBook. Earlier today, I noticed that my beloved Palm IIIe appeared to have a speck of the ol' lavahead's dandruff on the screen. I tried to clean it off but to no avail. Turns out, it was under the screen. What a piece of [dung]. It's too bad I don't have a rich babe like Brianna Banks who would buy me a new Sony Clié.
Thursday January 10
I had to proofread several more chapters of the journal. I will be uploading the last of the corrections tonight. I had a chance to browse through most of last year's journal. I found that it was not as boring as I thought. Well, I'm a little biased, I suppose. The ol' lavahead is sure having one hell of time, isn't he? There is no question that the people around me are the ones causing all of the grief. The fact of the matter is that most people are just plain stupid. They are oblivious to anything except what seems to please their inner child. Not one of these fools has any remote characteristic that could even resemble "vision." Making people miserable is what they excel at. And, I'm not talking about the students either.
The face of stone almost cracked when I walked into the Asylum's library after my last class. In there was a student wearing shorts and slippers. According to one of the tutors, the student had been there for a few hours. This is the kind of inconsistency which permeates all levels of the Asylum. However, I'm sure there's more than meets the eye. Roach and his minions have been very distant toward me as of recent. My suspicion is that there are getting ready to give me the heave-ho. From what I understand, they are praying that Patty, another instructor on maternity leave, will return soon. That's okay. Then, Patty, Mike, and Kevin will comprise the day crew. They are all fairly easy graders, so everyone will be happy.
I have not put much effort into planning for the Visual Basic class. I already know that I will fail most of the class no matter what. The class will be completely full with all of the people Ryan has given failing grades to over the past year. I doubt that they will succeed in my class either. How can any of these students pass when they can't even understand how to use a simple IF function in Excel? I still firmly believe that Pidgin English is primarily responsible. It's a learning liability, and none of the students make any effort to try to expand their vocabulary. There is no way to facilitate a technical subject using phrases like "da kine." Make no mistake. These students are not dumb. They are experts on pimped-out Hondas, gansta rap, gansta clothes, sports, and all of the popular shows on the tube. So, you see, they are very knowledgeable. They just don't have any marketable skills. Nor do they seem to care.
Lately, I've been thinking about simple stuff. Yep, stuff like how the Earth would be a wonderful place to live were it not for the infestation of sleazy, chimp-like humans. I'm talking about mealy-mouthed, slimeballs. Dickheads. There's no shortage of marginal thinkers. The sad part is that these morons continue to breed, thereby creating more morons with greater intellectual voids. I'm not talking about the economically disenfranchised or the destitute. They may look pitiful on the outside, but they are essentially harmless. No, I'm talking about the human slime that comprise the upper crust of society. The pedigree turds. Then, there are the wannabe turds like Roach and his brethren. There are days that I could easily grab one of them by the neck and attempt to stuff the damned turd headfirst into the toilet bowl. Then, I would use a plunger to further force the fat slob through the little drain hole at the bottom of the bowl. Booyah!
Later, I will discuss how organized religion, namely Christendom, has largely been responsible for this despicable human condition and the misery associated with the latter. Governments come and go, but these organized religions have been spreading and festering every since they were founded. The value systems of society were put into place by religion. These are odd claims from a monk, a man of the cloth, eh? Only a true monk will attempt to find the truth. Truth is spirituality. The whole meaning of our pitiful existence relies on truth. The truth will set us free.
Friday January 11
While at the gym, I saw the news coverage about that fat slob who beat a guy to a pulp over some stupid hockey match. His attorneys referred to the big turd as the "gentle giant" and a "loving father." What bunch of crap! The jury let him off with a simple involuntary manslaughter rap. He should suffer the same fate as his victim. An eye for an eye. However, as you know, I am peace-loving monk and I harbor absolutely no malice towards anyone. I am an ambassador of goodwill.
The express bus was full this morning because the earlier bus did not show up. I willingly gave up my seat so that one of the older babes could sit down. Very few guys do kind deeds anymore. I also saw the handmaiden's friend Anne on the bus. We talked about contact lenses and glasses, if you can believe it. I actually found the discussion to be interesting.
I found out that Janice, one of my students at the Asylum, is pregnant. She just got married recently. Turns out that she is married to a military guy. She met him through an on-line "personals" site. I am really amazed at this new trend. I just hope that everything works out for her. That babe Dana was acting somewhat like a child today, which makes me wonder how she can function in the role of a single parent. I'll probably discover that the father of her kids is a military guy.
Am I wasting my life away? That's what I asked myself today yet again. I am, of course, fortunate to be able to even ponder such a trivial question. Many people are being blown to bits in their thatched huts by bombs falling out of the sky. They will not have the luxury to question their existence. I've noticed that the skin on my hands and arms are becoming much more wrinkled. More and more tiny creases are appearing. During my cardio workout on the StairMaster, I wondered about what I am doing and where I am going. Am I just passing time and waiting for the Grim Reaper? From what I can tell, that's what wage slavery is all about. Why does the topic of babes always seems to pop up in my mind when I feel as though I am wasting my life away? I suspect that I am going through an aftershock of the dreaded mid-life crisis. In fact, I was really indifferent when leaving the salt mines. The weekend will be the same. Moms will cook a whole mess of food. Then, my bro and his family will show up. My bro and I will drop back a few brewskis and talk about the same old stuff. It's almost to the point that I don't want to be around on the weekends anymore. However, I have nowhere to go. I suppose that's why the topic of babes seems to intrude upon my thoughts — if I had a babe, then I would have a reason to be somewhere else. Pure hogwash!
Let's take a look at this babe nonsense again, shall we? Let's also take a look at Pseudo-professor Robert and The Master from a neutral standpoint. Then, let's apply the findings to the ol' lavahead. When I look at either The Master or Pseudo-professor Robert, I find nothing striking. They blend into the woodwork fairly easily. Boring clothing. Boring cars. Extremely reserved personalities. Loners. Non-descript. Boring. Could I see either of them wooing babes? Not really. If I see these traits, then the babes also see them, if they even notice at all. The ol' lavahead is the same kind of guy. That is why I need not worry about babes. It really still boils down to the eunuch-like behavior and the Data-like personality. There's no other answer except that some guys are either just completely detestable or invisible to babes. And, I happen to be one of those guys. The Master already knows his place — he's a hermit. Pseudo-professor Robert calls himself a loser, but he hasn't figured out his place in life yet. The term "loser" is only a placeholder. I am monk. I've already determined my place in life. Then, why do I keep rehashing the same old topic? I don't know.
Saturday January 12
I am still sickened by the light sentence that Gentle Ben received yesterday. Oh well. So, let's continue where we left off now, shall we? I believe that I've narrowed down the cause of my anxiety — da wild thing. What exactly am I getting at? I believe that guys who have gone through an extended period of time sans da wild thing will eventually exhibit signs of extreme psychopathology. The traits that I described yesterday, which are also equated with eunuch-like behavior and the Data-like personality, may be the effect rather than the cause of the problem. In other words, the lack of physical contact with babes for a long period of time increases the idiosyncratic personality quirks and odd behavior. The likelihood of becoming a hermit also increases significantly. Guys like The Master and myself were probably never quite "normal" to begin with. Our interactions with babes were always limited or non-existent. With increasing time, the rift just got larger. Biologically, this presents a grave situation. Energy must be expended steadily to quell the libido. This, in effect, causes chronic fatigue. Mind and body then coordinate a psychological and physical coping strategy (e.g., becoming a monk) to compensate. Spending a lifetime without any kind of physical contact with a babe is totally unnatural and will cause severe aberrations in behavior. Other adjunctive psychosomatic symptoms including odd tic-like psychomotor agitation are also likely to appear. Violence should not be precluded. I am living proof of this axiom. For guys, I believe that regular doses (i.e., four or five times daily) of da wild thing is necessary for normal functioning.
I left for Kahala Mall a little before three o' clock after much deliberation. Moms had been cooking from early this morning, so I figured that my bro's wife would be stopping by around that time. I spent my time at Barnes & Noble. I actually enjoyed looking around today, although I was almost tempted to buy something. I caught the bus at 5pm, thinking that it was safe to return home. Was I ever wrong! I was outside watering the yard when I heard the unmistakable voice of my bro's wife. I was really perturbed. Then, when I found myself locked out of the house, I was ready to lose it. Although I did not accuse anyone of the deed, my bro's wife took it upon herself to believe that I had accused her son. I said, "Well, I guess the door locked itself." She then made some kind of snide remark. I could hear moms telling her not to fuel the fire. "I don't really care, because I'm tired of taking crap from him," she told moms. Say what? I walked into the kitchen. "What did you just say?" I asked. I couldn't believe that the bitch was making it sound as if I am always giving her a hard time. I have not even said a word to her in months, especially when I found out that she had fed a bunch of lies to my bro about the handmaiden. The scene got worse, with the stupid bitch going off on a tirade and accusing me of always cussing and carrying on in front of moms. "Excuse me, I think you're talking about your husband," I told her. Trying to play the martyr, she refused to take any food with her and acted as if she was totally in the right. "Don't worry, I'm not trying to take this house away from you," were my last words. The dumb bitch started spewing out total idiocy after that. As it turns out, she was complaining about my bro again to moms prior to this incident. This has become a common occurrence, which is why I've been worried about my bro. This bitch will try to take him to the cleaners. I know that for sure.
I downed the last three cans of Guiness to calm my nerves. I had a long talk with moms, spelling out all of the crap. Moms was defending the bitch for a while, until I began reciting verbatim all of the things that moms had told me about the dolt when I was still on the mainland. Deep down inside, I think moms knows the truth. However, like most locals, she is easily pushed around by the damned haoles. "I've been on the mainland for over 20 years. They are not going to talk circles around me," I told moms. "And, that's what the bitch can see. That's why she's not too happy." In fact, it's plainly obvious that everything changed when I moved home. I was a great guy when I just came back every four years to visit. Now, I am a threat. The only problem is whether my bro will side with his wife or not. Our relationship could return to where it was not less than six months ago. That's exactly what the bitch wants. People who don't trust themselves usually don't trust others. Whatever the outcome, so be it. I've done all that I could to make concessions. Sometimes that is just not enough. For some people, it's all or nothing.
Fools, Dolts, and Morons ... Chimps All The Same
I have included many of my observations in the journal when I first returned to Hawai'i. As you may recall, moms was a slave in her own house. I was completely in shock at how moms was taken for granted. The bottom line is that my bro's family had taken over the whole house. Even worse, the place looked like something out of a trailer park. I'm not going to rehash the sordid details because they are recorded in the journal. However, I plan to go back and refresh my memory. I am particularly interested in the falling out between moms and bro, in which my bro hastily decided to move his family out. That was almost exactly three years ago. For my bro's wife, that was a major turning point. In effect, my bro was practically relinquishing his inheritance. In her small little pea brain, she assumed that I had orchestrated that whole mess to leave them to fend for themselves.
Tonight was the first time that I've shown anyone any of my financial papers. Waving around my annual statement from American Century, I said to moms, "Look, I have saved $62,000 as of my last paychecks. It has taken me three years to save this. I actually have enough to make a down payment on a house, if I want to. But, that's not what I'm going to do. They (Ninja Turds) had eight years and two incomes. Have they saved anything at all?" Poor moms was growing weary of this crap. "My bro has already told me that they can't afford to buy a house. They may not even be able to afford a two-bedroom apartment. Their son is getting older. They can't live in that small shoebox forever," I added. In retrospect, I sounded arrogant and boastful, although that was not my intention. What I have saved is merely chump change. In reality, I am trying to persuade moms to change her will so that the dolt will have the house she wants. I warned moms that my bro will be taken to the cleaners once he has any assets worth filing divorce papers for. The bitch is already complaining about everything that my bro does wrong. Why doesn't she just tell it to my bro? The dolt's son has also told moms that his parents are always arguing. Yet, in my conversation with my bro a few weeks ago, he assured me that everything was under control. Is he that oblivious?
I ran a search through Google to see if I could find the Web site of the dolt's employer. Remember that I found it last year sometime. The site even had a picture of the dolt. Either the company is out of business or the dolt has been demoted. So, what happened? All I want is two more years of peace and quiet while I build up my savings and retirement to my projected goals. All hell can break loose after that. I've got to fend for myself. I don't have the luxury of a two-income family. I am putting up with enough crap as it is from brain donors like Roach and his minions. I don't need to put up with extraneous noise from an ignorant ho' who is only concerned about herself. My bro really admires his wife's family. "They always get together every year, unlike our family," he said. "They get together even though there are several family feuds going on." Say what? What is so admirable about that? They get together to either ignore or yell at each other? In my own situation, I am wondering now if I must revert to using the name "Ninja Turds" again.
Sunday January 13
I heard moms make a phone call to the dolt this morning. Moms promised to take the food over to the Ninja Turds. I was upset and told moms not to play into this game. Later, the dolt called moms to say that my bro would be coming by. I went to the gym at my usual time. When I returned, I discovered that no one came by. Poor moms was waiting with all the food packed and ready to go. The phone kept ringing over and over again, but no one left a message. No doubt, the dolt was calling, Moms can't hear the phone, so I didn't say anything. This whole thing has turned into a game. Predictably, my bro has fallen for the dolt's lies. Now, they are going to pull the tired old "Either you're with us or against us" charade with moms. They will use their son as a hostage. In essence, moms will now be forced to take the bus to Turdville again because the Turds will refuse to visit while I am here. This is to force moms to evict the ol' lavahead. If anyone sees a whole different game plan, please let me know. You may also want to review this old chapter from the journal.
I took the time tonight to thank moms for allowing me to stay in her house. I've been able to make a moderate financial recovery because of that privilege. I asked moms if it was possible for me to stay on for another year or two. Then, I believe that I will move out. I can't take this crap from the Ninja Turds. I have to play enough games with the people who employ me, but at least they are paying me. The dolt is a file clerk. I don't need to put with [dung] from a [copulating] file clerk. Yeah, and don't forget that the dolt is seven years older than my bro. They met when they both worked at Pizza Hut. She was probably close to 30 years of age back then. I have no idea why she thinks she's a winner. Even I am not so arrogant as to think that I am a winner.
Poor moms has to put with this crap as well. In the meantime, I have promised that I will finish up all of the projects and help moms as best as I can until my departure. I just can't take it anymore. At least moms will have up to two more years of peace and quiet until the Ninja Turds find a way to move back in. Moms will turn 80 next month. I can't imagine moms becoming a slave to the Turds in her own house again, but it will most likely happen. I may try to postpone my departure for another year. Only time will tell.
I have some kind of head cold because my sinuses are congested. I also have a sore throat. I am actually looking forward to returning to the salt mines tomorrow. I had a really lousy weekend because I am dealing with the infantile Ninja Turds. I have no idea why they want to pull me into the vortex of their trailer park world of trash. After all, I'm only here now because of moms. It's still a valuable time for me. I'll never regret the sacrifices, even though I must still tolerate the Ninja Turds.
Monday January 14
I became more and more perturbed as I read a few of the old chapters of the journal. The crap that the Ninja Turds had put both the handmaiden and I through was inexcusable. I regret the decision that I made back then to ignore that crap. My bro and his dolt file clerk wife are greedy and evil. That kind of nefarious behavior continues on until today. To think, I remember telling the handmaiden that we had to just persevere because we were merely guests in moms' house. My bro, on the other hand, is only too eager to show everyone that he is in charge and he knows everything. I have made so many concession to the damned fool that he now believes it. I have promised moms that I will help the jerkoff when he gets taken to the cleaners. I'll just add one caveat — I'll help him, if he can find me. My decision is final. Yeah, I'm sick and tired of that [rectum] and his 44-year-old file clerk bitch.
My bro ended up digging holes and putting in fence posts at his current job, not because he's real good at it. He should get a clue. They gave him the crap job to try to force him to quit. He's too arrogant to be a team player. He is also afraid that the Republicans will take over the State government and put the squeeze on the unions. I really hope they win because the Democratic Party is at the heart of the corruption here. I can't stand sleazy right-wingers either, but I'm also tired of this huge welfare state for ignorant fools like my bro. He's always talking about how he wishes he was back on "unemployment" anyway. I was too forgiving of that [rectum] considering that he has treated me like [dung]. To add insult to injury, he always tells me about how great the [copulating] file clerk's family is. I didn't realize that he was insulting me. That's the kind of jackass he is. What really torques my jaw is how the Ninja Turds jerk moms around in this petty game. I'm not worried. Whatever goes around, comes back around. They are merely chimps in a zoo, fighting over small bananas.
In my search to find the Web site of the file clerk's employer, I discovered the result of the Neighborhood Board elections. I received 871 votes. The five people above me had about 1,200 each, four of whom were elected. The rest of the 20 candidates were below me. I was surprised. My mistake is that I ran "at large." Many seats in the different sub-districts were uncontested. Sheesh! Well, the "Dress Code Challenge" was a success on Day One. I even brought Roach and his minions to my three classes to show them because I was rather proud of my students. Let's see if the students can keep it up for four weeks.
I went to the clinic this afternoon. My doctor discussed my blood test. My cholesterol level is now at 237, so it went down a bit. My total cholesterol is high because I have a high level of HDL (good) cholesterol. However, there is room for improvement. So, I will have to modify my diet and maintain a regular gym schedule. I believe that daily intake of Psyllium has also helped. My liver is fine. Blood sugar is normal. Blood pressure is normal (surprising, given the situation with the Ninja Turds). Overall, I was relieved. The real benefit of disassociating from my bro is that I will no longer need to drink any expensive brewskis on the weekend. The company was stale anyway.
Tuesday January 15
I was really illin' today. I felt bad last night and so I attempted to go to sleep at ten o' clock. My nasal passages were so clogged that I felt as if I was suffocating. I spent the next five hours pacing the house. Back and forth I went. Then, I initiated a slow counterclockwise circular pattern. Slowly I turn. Step by step, inch by inch. Just kidding! However, I was, in effect, pacing. There were only two spots in the whole house where my nasal passages cleared. One spot was in the kitchen, the other in the hallway. Naturally, I had to be standing as well. By 3am, I was so fatigued that I went back to bed and passed out.
I'm not sure how I made it through my classes. Later, Kevin gave me a Benadryl tablet. He warned me that it would make me drowsy. I took it anyway. Oddly, I felt better. I had a renewed sense of vigor, so I went to the gym for a workout. At the gym, I became extremely fatigued again. I thought that I was going to pass out right there. I felt crappy all through the ride back home on the express bus. Not even the view of luscious babe Deena sitting across from me was of any consolation. Sheesh! Moms has given away most of the food that she cooked on Saturday to her friends. At least, those people will appreciate it, unlike the ungrateful Ninja Turds.
Wednesday January 16
I didn't go to the gym today, although I had planned to do so. I ended up talking with Kevin for a couple of hours after I was done facilitating my classes. Kevin has also been subject to the "micromanaging" of the Asylum's administration. Kevin recently married a babe from Japan. I am beginning to see why many guys are looking outside the country for a babe. With evil shysters like the dolt file clerk around, who wouldn't look elsewhere? Kevin and his wife are struggling to survive. For a while, they subsisted on his paltry wages from the Asylum. Recently, Kevin's wife found a job in a bake shop. Although he comes from a wealthy family, Kevin is surviving without parental assistance.
The damned dentist sent me a bill for $60 which I received today. Apparently, my health care provider does not cover a whole lot. Actually, I believe that my dentist has padded the bill with non-essential services like the x-rays. He also charged me for a "diagmostic dental exam" which, as I recall took all of two minutes. What do I look like? A chump change chimp? Everyone is a crook. The whole healthcare industry is a fraud. And, we are being taken to the cleaners. No one can be trusted, not even relatives (as evidenced by the Ninja Turds).
I've been talking with moms a lot more since the incident of last weekend. In fact, I had a nice dinner chat with moms this evening before she left for a religious meeting. Just before leaving, moms mentioned that she had told the Ninja Turds (prior to their hasty decision to move out) that she was going to donate the house to the church. "Good. You should do that," I said. "That will end this charade once and for all." I know that moms won't do that. In the future, there will a big legal battle that will serve no end. I should probably find a good lawyer now. Our conversation digressed to care homes for the elderly and few other topics. I am worried about moms and I will do all that I can to be of help.
To be continued ... Go to M.02
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