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... Journal of Life
Thursday October 19, 2000
I had an interesting discussion with Chip, another faculty member at the Asylum. He expressed the same kind of frustration about the students. Chip facilitates English classes. I learned from him that many of the students were tested and found to be reading at the first grade level. Most of the students are reading at the 8th grade level. "These people are stupid," he told me, not at all intending to be facetious. Believe me, I've seen it for myself.
Yesterday, I had a discussion with one of my smaller classes. As usual, the topic focused on the plight of the locals. I mentioned the fact about the phenomenal growth of the prison population. One babe disclosed, "Too bad. The best looking guys are all in jail. Nice bodies. Big muscles." Another babe's ex-boyfriend (with whom she has three kids) is currently in prison. She now has a restraining order against him. It's a pathetic story that never ends and it is fatiguing.
My only sanctuary is my favorite chair. Sitting and perusing my Nova Spirit. That's my idea of spiritual harmony. In fact, I've been working on new curriculum for my classes. One project is called, "Psychos, Tasers, and e-Commerce in Paradise." My students will be investigating Taser-like devices on the Net. Isn't that great?
Friday October 20
There was a red alert this morning when Toad made its first appearance at the Asylum since its arrest. Toad was carrying a big, black purse. One faculty member thought that the amphibian had a gun hidden in there. I quickly grabbed my can of pepper spray. However, the situation was defused when Toad was ushered away by Roach's compadré Maria. Toad had allegedly come in to discuss the status of its financial aid. Why didn't Toad just call on the phone? I suspect that Toad wanted to see how far it could push the envelope. Toad has one year of probation. Another violation of the restraining order will land the slimy frog back in the slammer. I suspect that the whole charade was a brazen rehearsal for the time when Toad intends to even the score. I will be waiting for that day. Toad will only have one chance. Otherwise, I'll zap its bulbous head into oblivion with the Nova Spirit.
The weekend is finally here. I must grade exams and do some chores around the house. I will be vigilant, just in case Toad decides to extend the scope of its mission. The Nova Spirit will be waiting for that piece of [dung].
Saturday October 21
I spent all day sitting in my beloved resin chair. I perused and cleaned both my Nova Spirit and Talon Taser-like devices. I certainly have come to understand the concept of obsession. I have noticed this curious demographic amongst the local population as well. It is a peculiar trait that can manifest itself in harmless as well as detrimental ways. Toad is proof of the latter. Obsession can explain the almost universal inclination of the local population toward gambling. Almost everyone here travels to Las Vegas at least once a year. There is a neighborhood in Las Vegas that is composed entirely of expatriate locals. The obsessive nature of the locals is evident even in their dialogue and actions. That's why there are so many crimes of passion here. Other factors could include the common abuse of alcohol and drugs, which are obsessions as well.
My interest in security devices is beyond casual. It has almost become a religion (i.e., the Nova Spirit as Holy Sepulcher). My obsession is a product of the obsessive psychos around me. They have created a vortex of stupidity of which I must use every available means to prevent myself from being swept in. The Nova Spirit is the only device that may prevent me from becoming a victim. As more and more of the local population moves toward insanity and criminal behavior, I find myself with little in the way of options. Only the criminals and the insane have rights. My weapon of choice is illegal in Hawai'i, but what other choice do I have?
I miss the days that I used to go to Barnes & Noble. I was tempted to go there this evening. Somehow, I just couldn't muster up enough motivation. I have not done much all year except for the few times that Mark and I do something. Frankly, I don't have the energy to do much. Perusing the Nova Spirit is relaxing to me, especially when I can see myself jolting the likes of Toad and all the other psychos.
Sunday October 22
I finished another bag of lime-flavored tortilla chips. I spent quite a bit of time scraping the green specks of artificial lime flavor off of each chip. I'm used to this level of psychosis. After all, I live in Hawai'i. Land of the psychos. I finished grading the exams. Then, I did some houseboy chores. Of course, I had ample time to peruse my beloved Nova Spirit. I never go far without it. And, my research continues. When I discover new tidbits, I include them in the KnowledgeBase.
My homey Rod called and left a message on Friday. We finally had a chance to chat this evening. This was a sad reminder that I haven't kept in touch with anyone. Caroll and I correspond by e-mail once in a great while. I was really happy to hear from Rod. He's still livin' large in LA. I filled him in concerning the situation with Toad and other useless trivia. After the call, I realized how much I missed all of my old buddies up on the mainland. Well, tomorrow I'll return to the salt mines. Wheeee! Each day I must wait and see if Toad will lose it and go on a homicidal rampage. Just the mere thought of jolting the minuscule neurons in Toad's amphibious cranium with the Nova Spirit is enough to make me want to giggle my ass off. What has brought me to this level of debauchery?
Monday October 23
I was pleasantly surprised to see that Anonder updated his journal. Anonder is obsessed with da wild thing. Sometimes I can't say that I blame him. However, babes are just too much trouble. I have several potentially dangerous babes in my classes at the university. I know their modus operandi. Remember the demise of my good buddy Bud back in Convalescent City? I need not repeat someone else's mistakes to learn a lesson. Mind you, I have had ample time to practice the eunuch-like behavior and the Data-like personality. Well, hey! I am the guy who wrote the book!
I fully intend to remain a monk. A low-profile monk. My only diversion is the Nova Spirit. It's sitting next to me as we speak. Yes, I gave in to the ways of the flesh on one too many occasions. I was weak. The wily ways of the babes are designed to key in on that weakness. Only The Master has been true to his calling. What fortitude The Master has! No doubt, I must pay homage to the Master during my next trip to Cali, whenever that may be. Just between you and I, there is much about my past that bothers me. I don't know why I compromised myself by giving in to temptation. And, for what? In the end, I was much more miserable. I have regained my focus and conviction once again. Yet, I cannot help but wonder if both are convoluted by my past misdeeds. The purity of the soul can only be maintained through chastity. Indiscretions of pleasure and hedonistic abandon adulterate the soul. The spirit is tainted. Blemished. Never to heal.
I once welcomed ... no, yearned was more like it ... the beckoning of the babes. My manhood was in question. Such foolish insecurity is often rewarded with grief. I've come to learn what all true monks have known. Spirituality is our only personal salvation. The lust in our loins must be purged for there is no end to its longing. The lust manifests itself in other ways such as materialism. What is in the heart can never be good once this disease sets in. For all other debauchery stems from the one indiscretion that commences merely with a thought and a feeling within the heart.
Oh, if the Vienna Sausage were to act up, I will thrust the Holy Sepulcher upon it. I will cast out the demons by jolting the foolishness out of the appendage that dares speak out against its Master. Woe unto thee, lowly appendage! Who art thy to rebel? Baha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Haaaa! Can I get a witness? Baha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Haaaa!
Tuesday October 24
It wasn't until later in the evening that I completed my reading of Anonder's Journal. I was somewhat chagrined by what transpired when he had visited his monk cousin. Anonder badgered the poor monk into making a tacit confession about the latter's vow of celibacy. The monk revealed his own tormented past and his inability to have a relationship with even one babe. Oddly, the paradox of true spirituality is always offset by conflicts caused by sexuality and materialistic inclinations. Penance requires the separation of spirit and body. There is no doubt that the weakness of the flesh compromises the spirit. However, blaming it all on external factors (i.e., temptations of the flesh) is not always merited. The spirit should be able to transcend the weaknesses of the physical being. Only those who are weak in spirit will eventually fall from grace. In that particular case, Anonder is correct. Proper motivation will ensure strength. Shielding oneself from temptation by living in isolation promotes a false sense of security. If the spirit is weak, the soul will falter.
In the most poignant moment of the encounter between priest and lay, Anonder discloses the secret of success concerning babes:
Having been both the giver and receiver of flattery and strong expressions of sexual desire, I can assure you of their effectiveness. Girls in particular like to be the object of sexual worship. If you had told one of these girls point-blank that you found her very attractive and thought about her constantly and wanted to make love to her, then regardless of whether she said yes or no, she would almost certainly have been secretly pleased.
To think, guys have paid thousands of dollars for therapy and stupid books on the subject.
I have grown even more sick of the simple-minded ways of the locals. They are children in adult bodies. There is something about this culture that stunts their intellectual growth. Their inability to comprehend the complex world they live in leads to frustration, which often manifests itself in violent ways. There is no desire to transcend this primal level. Knowledge could set them free. But, knowledge is an alien concept. The idea of increasing knowledge promotes fear and anxiety. It is much safer to remain in ignorance. Stupidity and violence are easier concepts to grasp. Logic and reason are not. There is no hope for most of them. As for me, I am one of the haoles now. I make this stand reluctantly, although I know that I am most comfortable as a haole. I am a local no more.
Wednesday October 25
I announced to my classes that, as of yesterday, I am a haole. The students probably thought that I lost it. Perhaps I am crazier than Toad. I had an interesting discussion with Pseudo-professor Ralph and Pseudo-professor Emmett. It had to do with the way the babes dress when they attend class.
"I had one in class who had all of her wares on display," Pseudo-professor Emmett related to us. He is much older than we are, although this is his first semester at the university.
"You ain't seen nothin' yet. Wait until they visit you at office hours," I interjected. "They'll come in with the skimpiest outfits imaginable."
"I even had one flirting with me," Emmett continued, wiping his brow. "I'm an old man. I don't need any of that."
"That's why I tell them I'm a monk."
I can identify the dangerous ones right away. Oh, they are very good at what they do. I don't particularly think that these babes are looking to cause trouble. It's just the nature of babes to seek out affirmation of their sexuality in any way they can.
The local babes at the Asylum are a different story. Their attitudes are much different than their mainland counterparts. The local babes are old-fashioned. They are attracted to the stereotypical macho guy. And, from what I can tell, they seem to have voracious sexual appetites. The one local babe mentioned again this morning that "all the good looking local guys are in jail." She described her perception of these Adonis's in detail. I could almost sense that she was drooling as she spoke. Pure lust. That is why the local babes get into trouble. It also explains why these babes always hook up with losers. None of that is my concern. I am a haole now.
Thursday October 26
I met with my cousin Dian for lunch today. She is starring in a play called Sisters Matsumoto at the Mano'a Theater. My cousin has been a struggling actress for a long time. That is what she has been doing for the last 20 years, although she has never hit the big time. The play opens next week, so I may attend one of the performances. We had lunch at the Big Island Steakhouse in the Aloha Tower Marketplace. After lunch, we walked around the downtown area before parting company.
Forgot to mention that the ho's daughter was acting up the other night at about 11pm. She was arguing outside with the dumb ox who apparently is her boyfriend. The foul mouth little bitch was cussing him out because he had to go home. "What do you [copulating] know about love?" she asked at one point. What exactly does this dumb 14-year-old know about love herself. At midnight, all hell broke loose in the lolo's house. The little bitch was either yelling at her mother (the ugly ho'), her grandparents, or possibly both. She was cussing at all of them. Why the stupid lolo didn't kick her out right then is beyond me. After all, it is his house. I giggled my ass off knowing that these fools will insure their own demise. I won't have to use the Nova Spirit on any of them.
As I was leaving the gym today, I noticed one of the personal trainers spotting a gym babe as she was bent over doing a dumbbell fly set. Baby wore a tight, skimpy top, and she had her ample wares on display. The guy in front of me must have noticed as well. He turned to me with a big grin. "I'm coming back as a trainer in my next life." I should have told him to look into becoming a pseudo-professor. No need to wait for the next life.
Friday October 27
My day was pretty much ruined by Phillip, the self-appointed "technology curriculum coordinator" at the Asylum. He has become blinded by his own glory. In an attempt to show me his power, he forced me to sign up for the stupid Mickey MOUS exams. He's really trying to save his own ass since the program has been a flop.
I was relieved to return home after another day at the salt mines. I'll be relaxing for the rest of the evening and I'll also peruse my Taser-like devices. The Nova Spirit is the best investment I ever made. It will last forever since I'm not sure when I'll ever use it. And, it is always amusing to peruse the device and imagine it being used to jolt any number of available dickheads. Lord, I was tempted to use it on Phillip today. I plan to replace the cheap Long's alkaline batteries in the Talon Taser-like device with lithium batteries. I'm sure that the device will be able to jolt a few craniums more effectively.
Saturday October 28
Mark and I had all-you-can-eat pizza at the Pizza Hut in Kahala Mall. I completely stuffed my face. The resulting cholesterol overload was not pleasant. We killed some time at Barnes & Noble as well as a few other stores before going to see Meet the Family. The movie was somewhat painful to watch because Greg Focker, the main character, goes through a losing streak that reminded me of my own life. The most obvious difference, of course, was that he had a babe. Sheesh! If he had a Nova Spirit, he could have solved most of his problems. A few jolts to the craniums of the fools who were doggin' him would have made all the difference in the world. After the movie, we ended up at Mark's place. A few cheap brewskis rounded out the day.
Forgot to mention that I received an airmail package from Devon, a former student who is now in Canada. The package contained her research paper to fulfill the requirements of an agreement for the incomplete class grade. She also included a short note that ended with "Canadian chicks rock. Eh!"
I'm glad that I was able to do something different this weekend other than just sitting outside in my beloved resin chair. I was not able to peruse my Nova Taser-like device. So, I will spend the rest of the evening doing so. As you know, the Nova Spirit is my most prized possession. The Holy Sepulcher.
Sunday October 29
I waited in the checkout line for 20 minutes at Long's this morning. All that for a pack of batteries for my beloved Palm IIIe. I have no idea why people go on a shopping sprees every weekend. I can't understand where they get all that dough. I bought some cheap brewskis using "shopping stress" as my excuse. No doubt, it's easy to see what I did for the rest of the day. I also knew that my sister-in-law was coming over sometime in the afternoon because moms had prepared all kinds of food to cook in the kamado. Whenever I imbibe too much in the firewater, I notice that my patience decreases considerably. Fortunately, my Nova Spirit is always at my side, just in case I need it. I have observed that the majority of the human population could use at least one long jolt to the cranium.
I must return to the salt mines tomorrow. Can't say that I'm real excited about that. However, I'm not exactly sure what I am accomplishing by sitting around all day with the Taser-like device in hand. Perhaps there is nothing to accomplish. After all, everything is vanity as far as a monk is concerned. Big headache. I've had too many cheap brewskis. I'll peruse the Nova Spirit and call it a night.
Monday October 30
Professor Lisa, Pseudo-professor Ralph, and I discussed our concerns about student performance on exams at the university. All of us have had to contend with the subsequent whining as well. Professor Lisa was concerned about one student who plans to seek revenge of some sort due to a poor exam score. I had an ordeal today with my students over the same issues. The Asylum is no better. I discovered that three computer networking students had no idea what an operating system was or what it does. That's only the tip of the iceberg. If I had saved enough money to retire, then I would have "walked" this afternoon. Due to the latest stock market conditions, I have been reduced to a pauper. There will be no retirement for a long time.
I'm always glad to return home. Aside from the few psychotic outbursts from the lolo's place, the 'hood is quite peaceful. The Nova Spirit is at my side as we speak. I constantly peruse it and envision myself in a variety of situations where I must deploy the device. Why jolting some idiot's head is so amusing is beyond me. Perhaps I've gone loco. How many people own two Taser-like devices? The bottom line is that personal security is Priority One. There's nothing in life to enjoy unless one is around to enjoy it. Material possessions only increase the chance of an incursion especially if opulence is flaunted. Gun advocates insist that a gun is the way to go. Fact of the matter is that a gun would almost always be considered excessive force. Mind you, I'd love to own a 9mm. However, it will do me no good in an actual situation because I could not control the situations where it may be deployed. For example, I could use the "nine" to deter a possible assailant by merely showing the fool my weapon. That would, at the least, add one count of "terroristic threatening" to the charges against me. Some may wonder if this "obsession" is clouding my judgment. I beg to differ. I already know that something is going to happen soon. There are just too many idiots around to deny this fact. And, to be forewarned is to be forearmed.
There will be a day that I return to true life of a monk in some kind of Hermitage. I'll own only the barest of essentials. However, there will be several Nova Taser-like devices in the monastic arsenal. The Nova Spirit is a necessity, not a luxury. Tomorrow is Sinister Kahuna Day again. That's twice this month. Sheesh! The Nova Spirit will be with me at all times. If any of these fools try to 'front me, then I'll light his head up like a Jack o' Lantern with the Nova Spirit. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaaa!
Sinister Kahuna Day Again
One of my students claimed that I was unfair in grading her exam. She believes that her answer to one of the questions was correct because it was "one of many possible solutions." I perused the Excel problem again, although I knew what I would find. Within the five or six sentences was the exact specification for the solution. The brain donor must have the attention span of a flea. This was a "take home" exam so she had over a week to complete these problems satisfactorily. The reading comprehension of the majority of students at the university is extremely low as is their ability to read more than one one sentence. At the Asylum, I gave an exam to the advanced classes which consisted of one question - a simple addition problem. If the students answered the question, they will receive a "B" grade for the class. With three weeks left, I just decided to be done with the whole charade. Education is a big joke.
I often wonder how so many people can essentially be "flatlining" insofar as brain waves are concerned. We will soon have a whole generation whose sole talent is the ability to locate free music through Napster. Nothing else seems to interest them. Oh, PlayStation may run a close second. It's a pretty sad scenario. I have no idea why being stupid is considered "mainstream." A good jolt to the head with the Nova Spirit may be the cure.
I have been trying to locate useful programs for my beloved Palm IIIe. I wanted a spreadsheet program to track my grades. Why bother? Look what I have to deal with. Sheesh! Netscape Communicator has been causing me a lot of problems lately. It crashes every few minutes. I can see why Bill won the war. Sad to say, his lousy Internet Explorer is 1,000 times better than Navigator. I've been loyal to Netscape since 1995. Too bad the Palm can't take over as my computer. Life would be so much simpler.
So far, it's been a pretty timid Sinister Kahuna Day. I've been through worse. The day is almost over. I'm going to relax and peruse my Nova Spirit. I feel so comforted when I hold it in my hand. A light tap on the switch displays the arc of electricity that would better serve to jolt any number of select morons. Perhaps I should peruse the Talon Taser-like device, too. Simple pleasures for simple monks.
Wednesday November 1
Another impromptu meeting of pseudo-professors. The saga of Pseudo-professor Emmett has taken an unexpected twist. He was told that the sole book that is used for all sections of that class is not the textbook. It is a "reference" book. Therefore, he should not adhere to its structure especially when constructing exams. What does this mean? Well, I gather that he is being told to "dumb down" his curriculum. All of this started because several of his students complained that his exams were too difficult. Sheesh!
I have been trying to avoid that moron Phillip because I know that he will try to pressure me to take the stupid Mickey MOUS exam. I would like to at least prepare a little for it. I can't see taking an exam only to fail for fun. Of course, Phillip is too stupid to realize this. Perhaps that sex vacation he took in the Far East has affected his mind. A long jolt to the cranium with the Nova Spirit could easily cure his psychosis.
I suppose that the sinister kahuna has been toying with the oversized cranium all along. I just don't notice it as much anymore. I have been under considerable stress due to situations which span from Toad's stupidity to my on-going economic crisis. A cheap brewski is the most logical and immediate solution. The Nova Spirit is possibly the long term solution and savior. One day, I hope to retire in a secluded place like Hana Mau'i. I'd like a nice parcel of land where I would build a small hovel to live in. I would keep a vigil with the Nova Spirit for trespassers. Sheesh! I talked with a couple of students at the Asylum today who both own Taser-like devices. One owns the actual Taser. They both purchased the devices recently. There's no question that the times are changing in Hawai'i. The Aloha spirit has given way to the Nova Spirit. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaa!
Thursday November 2
I asked Caroline, one of the students I talked with yesterday, whether she ever used her Taser-like device. She said that she only dry-fired it, so she has never deployed the device for its real purpose. Too bad. I doubt that she has a Nova Spirit, though. The rest of my day was somewhat mundane. I avoided that idiot Phillip again. Then, I piddled around doing absolutely nothing. I managed to restore my monk haircut. I'm so poor that I have to go to the Institute of Hair Design for my haircuts. I have yet to get a bad haircut since the instructors always check the end result. For six bucks, how can I go wrong?
Sylwia (Miss Poland, at right) stopped to talk with me as I stood waiting for the express bus. She asked if I had just gotten out of the gym since I was wearing my gym outfit. She mentioned that she joined the same gym but signed up at the Hawai'i Kai location. I came to find out that there were a variety of problems that kept the new gym from opening. The one in Hawai'i Kai is still in the same place. It's the size of a phone booth. I had been waiting for the new gym to open since I'd like to get in another day of working out. I only go to the gym twice a week and it almost doesn't justify the $37 monthly fee. Sylwia is a nice babe, which is pretty rare these days.
I had an interesting conversation with the handmaiden's friend Anne on the express bus. I couldn't help but notice her trademark Long's shopping bag containing the obvious case of beer. The way things are going, there may be two us on the bus with the trademark Long's shopping bag full of cheap brewskis. We talked mostly about the upcoming election.
I don't do much in the evenings. It's usually the same old thing. I spend some time on the Net checking out all the hurdy-gurdy sites. Just kidding! Then, I relax and peruse my Nova Spirit. Imagine the ol' lavahead sitting in his chair for a few hours with Nova Spirit in hand. This is the highest form of spirituality. Other guys are constantly thinking about babes. As a monk, I need not waste my time doing that. Who needs babes when one has a Nova Spirit?
Friday November 3
I don't know if I can remain a haole for too much longer. My students from the mainland have proven to be the most arrogant and dumbest of the lot. Sad to say, the worst are the babes. They act like spoiled, little Ice Princesses. I have no desire to play games with the little bitches since I am a monk. However, I find it rather unusual that I am always at odds with babes. I am inclined to believe that babes just do not like the eunuch-like behavior or the Data-like personality. I have no time for their foolishness. That's what baffles me. No matter what I do, I cannot get along with babes. Unlike Anonder and most other guys, I have no reason to entertain their vanity. I believe that most babes expect a guy to react to their wily ways in a predictable manner. That can't happen with the ol' lavahead since he is a monk. When can we put an end to this charade?
All hell broke loose at the lolo's place last night. The ho's daughter was screaming and cussing and carrying on. The lolo was also involved in the shouting match which included a lot things being slammed around. I called 9-1-1 and reported a "domestic" situation, knowing full well that the cops would respond within minutes. I am so sick and tired of all of these morons running my life. So, let's just give them the incentive to act upon their own stupidity, shall we?
Mark and I met up with his twin brother, Eric, and Eric's wife at The Shack this evening. We drank a few brewskis and ended up back at Mark's place for more brewskis. Big headache. Who cares? I have the Nova Spirit in hand as we speak. Bring on any of these fools for a good jolt to the head!
Saturday November 4
I've decided that I'm no longer a haole. I can never be one of them because I don't possess either the arrogance or intellectual inferiority of those people. I do not equate myself with any race or creed of any foolish mortal. I am a non-entity and I'm damned happy about it. I don't even want to call myself a human being. The further I disassociate myself from humanity, the better off I'll be. And frankly, I'm sick of both the locals and haoles alike.
I may have found a buyer for my Bose Acoustic Wave, although I began having second thoughts about selling it. Even though my Acoustic Wave has been sitting in its box since the last time I unboxed it, I still felt uncommitted to selling it. That's the power of materialism. I have been brainwashed into believing that I am nothing without my possessions. Another case in point is my Palm IIIe. I have yet to find an application that I really need. So, I have not found any reason to redeploy the device. I will be removing the last bits of personal data from the Palm. That would be my address book. I no longer keep in touch with anyone so I have deleted most of the names and phone numbers. Thus, the only useful purpose the Palm has is to run Eliza, the Pocket Psychologist. That's it.
For the sake of my sanity, I should sell the Bose Acoustic Wave. Music is no longer important to me. I've discovered that music is yet another materialistic trap. Scientifically designed to meet only the minimum of creativity, most music CDs develop a subliminal dependence within the listener. Planned obsolescence insures that the dependence is transferred to the most current releases. Oddly, one finds that there is usually no difference between all of the generic crap, whether old or new. Some idiots made fun of Comic Sans Lavahead, but those fools are the ones who spend countless dollars on pathetic music collections which only serve to make the "artist" (term used loosely) richer. I'm sick of mediocre music that only focuses on romance. It doesn't take a genius to figure out why da wild thing is all that everyone thinks about. Sheesh! And, to be honest, the psychotic classical pieces on public radio grate on my nerves. The most pompous asses usually make condescending remarks if anyone listens to anything else. Let's face it. A good set of wind chimes creates the most perfect music. Also, the high falsetto achieved when one's head is being jolted by the Nova Spirit is music to my ears.
I further imbibed in the firewater. Cheap Keystone brewskis, to be exact. The lolo was giving me the stink eye this afternoon. Instead of [flatulating] around and feebly attempting to fix that dump he calls a house, he should concentrate on fixing his damned family. It's a good thing he didn't say anything. After several cans of cheap brewskis, I was not in the mood. Suffice to say, he would have been the first test case to taste the electrical smorgasbord served up by the Nova Spirit.
Sunday November 5
More cheap brewskis. Big headache. And, I love every minute of this crap. Tomorrow, I'll return to the salt mines as a non-entity. Tonight I'll be scouring the Net to find something useful to install on my Palm IIIe. I'm done dealing with people. If I want to talk with anyone, I'll just call up Eliza the Pocket Psychologist. I have also cleared out all of the data in my Palm IIIe. I have no use for its organizer functions or the ludicrous "synchronization" that is required. The whole thing is a sham. And, we can thank the new wireless craze for additional fuel to add to the fire. I've never seen so many new ways to coerce unsuspecting fools to give it up. Give up the dough, that is. How many people really need to be that connected? Nonetheless, that's the name of the game these days. All of the new toys find some way to lock the user into monthly service fees. That's what is really driving the current economic boom. How do I know? Well, even the poorest fools have been caught in this tangled web. Not to mention, I've seen a few fools carrying two pagers, a cell phone, and one of those new two-way radios all at the same time. Sometimes I just want to zap the stupid devices right out of the idiots' hands with my Nova Spirit.
I've got to find something else insofar as employment is concerned. I'd rather be a night janitor at this point in time. I don't need to put up with crap in order to fool myself into believing that I am important. I'm the low man on the totem pole. Well, hey! I'm a non-entity!
Monday November 6
I have made an offer to my students at the university. Although there is over a month of classes left, I gave them an opportunity to obtain a "B" grade in the class by just signing an agreement. They have done enough work, at least in their eyes. I really don't care. This may be my only chance to get rid of the most disruptive students. Then, I can concentrate on the ones who really care. Believe me, the latter are few and far between. I put on some cheesy rap music while I announced the event (which I deemed a "celebration" for lack of a better name).
My sole activity this evening will be to find a useful application for the Palm IIIe. Not an easy task. I have found something useful at Web site that will turn my Palm into a tourist guide complete with maps. That's probably my best bet. I can't see turning my Palm into a small GameBoy console. Sheesh! Too bad I'm not a hurdy-gurdy star. Then, I could be doing da wild thing with all those gorgeous babes! Wait a minute. I'm a damned monk. What was I thinking?
Tuesday November 7
Today is election day. The buses were running on a limited schedule, so limited that my usual bus didn't show up. So, I had to wait another 30 minutes for the next express bus. Traffic was light so I still made it to town on time. The rest of the day was somewhat relaxing, if you can believe it. I wish that I had more days like this.
This evening, I'll be scouring the Net again for Palm IIIe applications. I've found a useless database of pick-up lines to try on the babes. Boy, did I ever need that! Well, let's hope that the rest of the week will be as boring because my nerves are already shot.
Wednesday November 8
One of the neighbors has passed away days after surgical removal of a brain tumor. This particular family has lived in this neighborhood as long as I can remember. Moms may have to go in for laser eye surgery because of cataracts. And, so far, no useful applications can be found for the Palm IIIe.
I have been in a comatose state lately. I surmise that it all has to do with my dillusionment concerning life in general. I have lost faith in all humanity. And, all I have left is my immediate family which consists only of moms. I also know that materialism isn't the answer. Finding a babe isn't the answer either. So, what is? Well, that question is somewhat rhetorical since I know that spirituality is the key. There seems to be no way to attain spirituality in a debaucherous world. Although I have identified and conquered many personal weaknesses, I have also alienated myself from society. My world is a fragile one. Just like my mental state.
The bills are rolling in again, only to serve as a reminder of my pathetic finances. The Nova Spirit purchase appears on this month's credit card statement. I am way off my projected savings goal for this year. I'm not even sure how I'll be able to make my annual retirement contribution. Being poor does have its merits. It maintains humility. I suppose that I should spend the night perusing my Nova Sprit. I haven't done that in a while. Lord have mercy!
Thursday November 9
The election fiasco is turning into one pathetic joke. That joke is, as usual, on the common folk. It becomes so clear that the bipartisan system is self-serving. Mealy-mouthed crap is being spewed out by these brazen [rectums] with no resolution in sight. Frankly, I'm glad that I'm a monk. Separation of church and state. That's all I need to know.
Moms is spending the night at my bro's place again. She must watch my nephew tomorrow. The whole thing makes no sense. Why not bring the kid over here? So, moms will sleep on the couch tonight and spend all day in a small apartment. My nephew is hyperactive so moms will not be able to take a nap. I suppose that I'm looking at this from my own viewpoint. Perhaps moms enjoys doing that. I feel that moms is being exploited. In any case, I'm always sad when moms is gone. I also worry that something stupid may happen as moms must take the bus to go to my bro's place. No one comes to get her. Of course, moms has come to trust and rely on my sister-in-law. I don't know why. After all the crap she put moms through, I can't say that I will be as forgiving. However, since I am not married, I will not be able to provide a progeny of the family name. My role is insignificant.
Tomorrow is a holiday, but the university will be holding classes. I will leave closer to noon since I will have the morning off. That will give me me more time to peruse my Nova Spirit. I forgot to mention that a couple of babes wore some skimpy outfits to class on Wednesday. They both came up to talk to me before class. They made it a point to lean on the podium at the front of the class, which made it much easier to display their ample wares. It's a good thing that I'm a damned monk. Any other guy would have been all over them like a cheap suit. Sheesh!
Friday November 10
I got up at 7am, which was a change for once. Seldom do I sleep in past 6am even on the weekends due to the amount of ambient noise. I took the regular bus to town and arrived at 11am. I caught up on some work and listened to the news on the Net. Same old crap. The election fiasco is getting tiring. Today was also the last day for my fabulous offer to my students. Fourty-four students signed the agreement. That's half of all of my students at the university. The situation for Pseudo-professor John may be getting worse. His reputation is now preceding him. I believe that he will be stepping down after this term. I also saw Joyce in passing. She actually said hello, which surprised me. Things have been a little strange since her friend Geraldine had allegedly spilled the beans, so to speak. Whether any of it was true or not will forever remain a mystery.
I caught a ride home with Mark since the express buses were not running. Mark had driven his car to work. Naturally, we talked about the stupid election fiasco. Mark has to work tomorrow so we won't be having a beerfest. Well, I may be having a beerfest by myself. Moms returned home pretty late. I was already heating up a frozen dinner. Then, I indulged in tortilla chips and salsa. That will be my primary staple throughout the weekend.
Saturday November 11
Chips and salsa. Cheap brewskis. Yardboy chores. I spent part of the day perusing my Palm IIIe. For a brief moment, I thought about jolting it with my Nova Spirit. That would have put an end to the dilemma of what to do with the stupid thing. Computer nerds and engineering types are the most susceptible to these kinds of toys. I spent most of last night upgrading my crappy Internet Explorer browser. I am preparing it to take over when I decommission Navigator.
I have been unable to use my FTP client as well. Thank goodness for those Web upload utilities! The weekend has not been relaxing. The ugly ho's daughter was outside at 3am having yet another argument, albeit somewhat civil, with her dumb ox boyfriend. I'm not sure if anyone called the cops. I was too groggy to get up. This stupidity went on until about 5am. Naturally, I had my Nova Spirit in hand all day just in case. The election fiasco has affected my finances dramatically. The extreme correction in the financial markets has left me even poorer than a pauper. That's life in Paradise.
Sunday November 12
I have not been able to find a justifiable reason to own the Palm IIIe. There is absolutely nothing useful about this gadget. If I was a mover or shaker, then I'd sing a different tune. In any case, I spent all weekend pondering the utility of the Palm IIIe such that my mind almost snapped. I can make no sense of this senseless life. FTP is still inoperative. Cheap brewskis. Chips and salsa. That's life as I know it.
Pops called early in the afternoon although I didn't hear the message until later. Pops is in Honolulu for some reason. He is going to dinner with my bro's family this evening. Moms called my sister-in-law to find this out since I was not able to talk with pops. I'm not sure if I'll be able to meet with pops as he is slated to leave for Hilo on Tuesday. I'm not ready to return to the salt mines tomorrow. There has got to be a better way, I keep telling myself. The truth of the matter is that I do not fit in. I'm on the outside looking in. I've pondered all aspect of this materialistic society to at least find one redeeming notion. This intellectual process has been pushing me to the edge of sanity. Why can't I just blindly accept all of this? After all, I can't do anything to change it. Resistance is futile. I will be assimilated sooner or later by the consumerist Borg. Sheesh!
To be continued ... Go
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