Millennium ... Journal of Life

2001: The Viagra Years

Monday December 11, 2000

I borrowed a few resources from a colleague today. I have to compile the information in order to prepare for my comprehensive exam. Yes, I hope to finally finish my second post-graduate degree. I would like to take the exam next month. I am still wondering whether I should pursue a doctorate. What purpose will it serve me? I have invested a lot of time and dough in an education that has yet to land me in a decent career. I merely eke out an existence. I suppose that the point is moot. Not much of the materialistic realm really matters unless one is firmly committed to it.

I've lost my motivation to do anything. That's why I have put off the completion of my graduate program. I was gung-ho about AceHTML but that seemed to have fizzled out as evidenced by the same boring stuff here at LoserNet. Ever wonder what happened to the Nova Spirit? Another case in point. Nothing makes sense anymore. Frankly, I could care less about retirement as well. Why am I even planning to live comfortably when I am a decrepit old fool? It really is time that I make no more plans. They will eventually be thwarted by the sinister kahuna. This is the kind of nonsense that leads to endless pacing. Slow, laborious pacing. Traversing. Slowly I turn ... step by step ... inch by inch ...

Tuesday December 12

I received an e-mail from Jennifer, the "dangerous" babe. She wanted to thank me for lending her a keyboard. It's actually not my keyboard. I arranged to borrow it from the university computer center. Why did I do that for her? I have to wonder myself. Was I taken in by her wily ways? I can just imagine the number of guys who would love to be in this situation. I consider it yet another necessary evil. Why can't I get hazard pay?

I talked with Toad's probation officer yesterday. I wanted to make sure that my three-year injunction was still in effect. I'm not exactly sure why I received the letter in the first place. Perhaps it was just a formality. My hope is that I never see Toad again. Yet, in retrospect, I realize that Toad was a victim of sheer stupidity. Had Roach and his sidekick Maria taken the situation less lightly, then Toad would have been spared the agony of incarceration. Now that Roach is Vice President of Academic Affairs at the Asylum, he probably has taken little time to look back and see how he essentially ruined someone's life. Roach is insulated from all of the crap. That's how the system works.

The ol' lavahead is the low man on the totem pole, so no one gives a "flying hooey" about him. It doesn't matter. These fools are about as expendable as toilet paper. We live in a society infested by varmints who make Roach look like a saint. Affluence certainly doesn't seem to improve one's lot. Rather, it puts us right in the path of the vortex of stupidity. I oftentimes wonder what would have happened had I become extremely successful. Big bank. Yeah. Big house. Yeah. Big car. Yeah. I'd be skinnin' up babes right and left using my dough as bait. You know, I have to be very thankful that I am a mendicant monk. I suspect that I keep myself in this position for my own safety and peace of mind. Given the impetus, all humans will fall from grace. That's the axiom of human frailty.

"Dangerous" Jennifer will return the keyboard tomorrow. I will not see her again but, rest assured, there will be many more just like her. I always remember Caine in Shock to the System, pondering whether he had lost his power as the Sorcerer. Power over babes, specifically. The one who has the power is one who doesn't capitulate. To that end, I have endless power. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaaa!

Wednesday December 13

"Dangerous" Jennifer did not return the keyboard today, although I received another e-mail that confirmed that she would be dropping it off after her final exam. None of this surprised me since she is "dangerous." Sheesh! I have been going to the gym daily. However, I am being thwarted by all of the holiday cookies and candies. Then, there was the greasy pizza served at the faculty meeting at the Asylum.

I saw Mark on the express bus this afternoon. He gave me a belated B-day present ... a book about Palm organizers. In actuality, I've already redeployed the Palm IIIe in my daily regimen. It is no longer a Game Boy. Right now, I use it as it was intended. I have been looking for new and useful applications. As I mentioned previously, I have installed a document reader which will come in handy very soon. If all goes as planned, the Palm will pay for itself many times over.

I've been thinking about the situation in the future when I will have to deal with the disposition of moms' house. It's quite a burden since my prediction is that my bro and his family will move in and force me out. I believe that my sister-in-law is conniving enough to be planning out the whole scenario with my bro as an unwitting pawn. I truly believe that my sister-in-law will end up with the property by divorcing my bro and taking him to the cleaners. That's after she has somehow finagled a way to exclude the ol' lavahead. The writing is on the wall. That is why I am making preparations now. There is no way that they will be able to afford a place of their own, no less buy out my share. Even with my paltry earnings, I should be able to surpass their combined net worth in two years, if I haven't already.

The so-called election is finally over. The debacle has left a bad taste in my mouth. All of the issues have been obscured by vain partisan rancor. What even surprised me was the partisan nature of the court system. It's like a cancer. Who are the real losers in this cheesy sitcom? The "American people" whose interests the politicians, lawyers, judges, and spin doctors were claiming to protect, of course! As a monk, I was even more appalled by the various religious ministers who have allied themselves either politically to the right or left. They have forgotten the fundamental doctrine of "separation of church and state." On second thought, maybe the ol' lavahead should run for office under the new Monastic Party. I see that the local neighborhood board elections are coming up. Perhaps I should launch my political career by throwing my hat into the ring, as the old saying goes. The Governor's mansion will be right around the corner, eh?

Thursday December 14

The election debacle has certainly given the world a whole new meaning to the term "pundit." Where are all of these fools coming from? Sheesh! "Dangerous" Jennifer e-mailed today to explain that she has been ill. She will be delivering the keyboard tomorrow. It's somewhat amusing to watch these comely young babes craft their talents to become future handmaidens of the sinister kahuna.

I have been given the approval to take the comprehensive exam for my incomplete graduate degree. The only setback is finding someone to proctor the exam. Technically, the proctor must observe the ol' lavahead during the exam. I can't expect anyone to sit for five or six hours and do that. As long as I can have someone certify the exam, then I'll be fine.

I saw the handmaiden's friend Anne on the express bus this afternoon. We talked mainly about the election fiasco, both of us being relieved that the nonsense is over. She mentioned that she's been leaving late from work lately because of some addictive game installed on her computer. That wouldn't be Wolfenstein, would it? Alas, tomorrow is Friday. I am completely fatigued and my patience is at an all time low. There is low level stress brooding below the surface. I have no idea what is at the heart of the matter. Perhaps it is the on-going inner conflict that all monks must face. Who is to say?

Friday December 15

"Dangerous" Jennifer returned the keyboard today. However, pseudo-professor Ralph somehow ran into her first at the elevators. He directed her upstairs to the Faculty Support Center, so I never saw her. As I was carrying the keyboard back to the Computer Center, I ran into Leslie and Karina, two slightly less "dangerous" babes from one of my classes. "Must you always carry your work with you?" chided Karina, alluding to the keyboard. I talked with them briefly before bidding them farewell.

Once again, I ran into Anne on the afternoon express bus. We had an interesting chat which initially concerned places to buy cheap brewskis. Anne confided that she's been imbibing more than she would like. Heck, I know this problem all too well. "Sometimes it's the only way I'll make it through the night," she confessed. "It's tough enough finding a reason to get up in the morning. I suppose this is a sign of depression." I could only concur. Times are rough for the ol' lavahead as well. I've been able to refrain from droppin' back the brewskis until the weekends. "Comfort can be found in knowing that not many others are truly happy," I offered. "There is solace in knowing that one is not alone." I am good with words for others, yet I doubt that I sincerely believe what I have to say.

In any case, I may find that I am probably more despondent than other people. I have no reason to be. I am living a better life than I did. Sure, there is trouble up the road but that is not in the immediate future. I am realizing my goals, albeit slowly. And, I have regained control of most aspects of my life. So, what is the problem?

I have grown extremely attached to my Palm IIIe again. I have no idea why I became so detached from it. The sheer simplicity of the device was its draw in the first place. As a monk, I appreciated that. The book (Mark's gift) also reminded me of that fact. I suppose that I was later disappointed because the Palm was not like the Pocket PC (which tries to be like a small desktop computer). I've come to realize that simplicity is the key. Who needs all the bells and whistles?

Saturday December 16

As with every year, I reflect on the madness of the holiday season. Anne mentioned yesterday that she was going shopping this weekend to buy the obligatory holiday gifts. Her demeanor suggested that it wouldn't be a pleasant experience. I had unchained myself from this consumerist ritual a long time ago. Why do people continue to honor this charade when their hearts are not in it? Obligation? Guilt? To appease the guilt-ridden soul, one offers expensive trinkets that only serve to clutter the garages and closets of the recipients. The purpose of larger living spaces, I assume, is to provide storage for years of accumulated useless gifts. I'm only bothered that many people will receive top-of-the-line Palm devices, never to use them again after opening the box. I, on the other hand, can only dream of the day when I can afford to purchase a notebook computer with current technology.

In the end, the bottom line is always the same ... I must compromise. I must make do with what I have. Yet, modesty and humility are never rewarded. These traits are often ridiculed or equated with insanity. Soon, one is pressured to give in. Conformity, in and of itself, is not bad. However, when it is the primary vehicle to add layer upon layer of superficiality to mask the infrastructure of human frailty, then society as a whole becomes fractured and chaotic. Words have no meaning, or have too many meanings. Ambiguity, of course, has its roots in deception. I am frequently labeled a "cynic," although I have observed that most people are far more cynical than I. They just mask it with a thin veneer of contrived charm. I am more vocal about what I see, so I am oftentimes perceived as being negative. What is the real difference between the cynical ol' lavahead and the others? He doesn't complain or whine. That's right. Complaining and whining is acceptable when done in the "proper" fashion. It must be initiated in an innocuous manner, say a discussion about a "necessary and common evil" such as work or taxes. From there, it will escalate in unison to a rant session in which all the venom then bursts forth like water flowing from a major breech in a dam. With that, I've discovered how much fear, hatred, and other contemptuous traits are within most people. To maintain the thin, pristine exterior veneer requires one to keep a check on those feelings. That's impossible without resolution.

Most of our problems have no resolution. They are on-going and we must ignore them. Yet, feelings run deep and fester like a cancer. I have resolved this problem by being more vocal. Since I circumvent the gradual dance to "rant" acceptability, I am deemed an outsider. No problem. I can accept that because I search for solutions. I find them. I implement them when I can. I express my doubts about myself and the world around me in the journal. That's all I can do. Yes, I am stressed out but, I've noticed, not as much as those around me.

Our intrinsic set of values have been obscured by modern life (read: materialism). Those intrinsic values are the same ones Covey touched upon in Seven Habits of Highly Effective People. Covey never delineated on those values, calling upon the reader to use introspection to identify them. We know what they are, if we choose to recognize those values and empower them from within. I don't discuss Covey or his organization anymore because both have become purveyors of hype. They have sold out and joined the ranks of the other self-appointed, self-help charlatans. What happened to those "intrinsic values"?

I have had time to reflect on the nature of friendships as well. Yesterday, I asked pseudo-professor Robert if he could assist me by proctoring my exam. He essentially blew me off. It is a trend amongst those who perceive themselves as "scholars" and "intellectually gifted." That's academia today. Ha! These fools are no better than their brethren in politics. Pompous asses, all of them. Most seem to take my computer expertise for granted. So, you see, I am below these fools. I am at their beck and call. I am their "boy." Heaven forbid, if a lowly peon like myself would ask for a favor. I have no time for all of them. Their egos are as big as their fat asses.

Moms spent all afternoon cooking, only to have my sister-in-law renege on showing up. A birthday party was more important. Moms is foolish, just as I. My sister-in-law is only motivated to deal with moms in order to preserve her share (read: my bro's share) of the inheritance. My beloved notebook computer and my Palm IIIe are my true friends and my only family next to moms. They will never betray me. So, too, the cheap brewskis. My eternal and honest friends. Sheesh! I did my yardboy chores today so I felt that the cheap brewskis were a worthy reward for my labor.

Sunday December 17

I should further contrast politicians and the losers in academia. The select few who choose political careers are essentially megalomaniacs. The seek not to serve, but to be served. The new media politic has certainly catered well to their inflated egos. Although their rhetoric is polished, they are as transparent as glass. The eggheads in academia are much more nefarious. They do not have the confidence in themselves to seek political office. Yet, the base personality and insatiable need for attention is still there. The implicit power of the academician is in the grading process. Why, even the most powerful politicians were at the mercy of egghead faculty at some point in time. So, reason the academicians, the ultimate success or failure of the individual is in their hands. That's real power in their eyes. The most deviant aspect of the academic personality is the myth of intellectual superiority. This myth gave birth to the class of idiots we now label as "pundits."

I will no longer refer to the academic moron class as "colleagues." I am perceived as some kind of glorified high school shop teacher anyway. So, that is what I will become. I have overloaded myself with classes to try to earn a decent wage. That's why I am at the Asylum. I don't earn much but I bring in more than the equivalent pseudo-professors (who are waiting for their ship to come in, I might add). Grades are due at the university. I have overheard or unwittingly participated in grading discussions, much to my chagrin. It is so apparent that these morons view their gradebook as the ultimate power over the minions. My animosity toward these fools has been growing. In actuality, it has affected my work. I have tried to persuade myself that it was due to the apathetic students. Now I see the folly of my error.

The best gift to give to any of these pompous asses (aside from a swift kick in the ass) is a good set of nose hair clippers. Intellectual superiority apparently precludes acceptable personal hygiene. It's bad enough that one has to be visually accosted by their large guts and fat asses. There is nothing more appalling than observing a clump of nose hairs extending forth from the nostrils like a trail of exhaust from a booster rocket.

I had to imbibe once again. Cheap brewskis at $8 for a 12-pack on sale. What a rip-off! That's the price we have to pay to live in Paradise. Sheesh! I unpacked my Bose Acoustic Wave and listened to the psychotic classical pieces on public radio until I couldn't take it anymore. That's the preferred music of the unkempt nose hair crowd, by the way. I broke out my Smooth Jazz CDs. It was a strange experience to listen to Smooth Jazz again. It reminded me of a time long past. Big headache. The cheap brewskis did me in once again. When will I ever learn? Tomorrow, I return to the salt mines. Wheeee!

Monday December 18

I certainly went off on a bonafide tirade yesterday. I could easily prove myself a hypocrite because I was hanging out with the unkempt nose hair crowd again today. I don't seek them out. We just happen to hang out at the faculty computer room. I've been extremely long-winded lately. Perhaps it due to the fact that our Millennium celebration is drawing to a close soon. It's almost time to start up a new chapter.

I actually had a really nice day today. My classes at the Asylum went well, most likely because of the upcoming vacation. And, it's been nice to able to go to the gym every day. I got most of my work done without a glitch. So, I took the first express bus out. Now, if only I can find a cheap PS/2 mouse for my beloved notebook computer so I can play Wolfenstein on it.

Tuesday December 19

The Asylum will be on vacation as of tomorrow. Last year I flew to Portland. This year, I'll be here. I have no money to go anywhere. I'll be going downtown almost every day. I don't want to miss a day at the gym. I have a few items on the agenda to complete as well. For one thing, I must prepare for my comprehensive exam. Fortunately, I didn't see any of the unkempt nose hair crowd today. I should have been overjoyed but I was more or less ambivalent.

It seems that I have too much time to contemplate my life as I know it. I see many of the students at the Asylum preparing themselves to go down the same path of stupidity that I once traveled. I offer lessons from my own experience, only to be received with the "rolling eyes" routine. What no one sees is that I'm not just offering hollow criticisms. I have a workable plan for success. Time is the most valuable asset we have. Most of us squander this resource on unproductive and sometimes destructive activities. If I had implemented my modest plan ten years ago, I would not be in the precarious position that I am in today.

I am reconsidering the redeployment of the Nova Spirit. I have already put the Talon Taser-like device into the den for easy reach, just in case someone from the lolo's household were to act up. in Addition, there are just too many clueless idiots stumbling around downtown. Most of these derelicts look like they are on Ice and could use a good jolt to the cranium. Too many psychos, and many of them are our very own lovable locals.

Wednesday December 20

Mark and I had lunch at Murphy's today. The fare was mediocre but the occasion gave me the opportunity to thank Mark for his friendship. I also disclosed the curious details of what happened this morning. Moms told me that I must pay the same rent that my bro's family paid. I found it odd considering that I use a fraction of the resources that they did. I also haven't taken over the house. My meager possessions occupy barely any space. My only fear is that the Ninja Turds are planning to move back in.

I spent most of the day compiling material for my comprehensive exam. I want to take the exam next month and be done with it. The new expenditures weighed heavily on my mind. I may not be able to afford a new computer this year after all. However, the computer is my lifeblood. I may not have a choice. Well, thank goodness, since I had a few cheap brewskis left from the weekend. Let drop 'em back now, shall we?

Thursday December 21

I have become extremely disillusioned with everything. I am no longer sure if what is see is really reality. One point is certain - I have lost all faith in all of humanity. What, then, are my options? I could engage in "retreatism," in which I would reject both cultural goals and the "socially legitimate" means to achieve them. According to Neuman (from the book Social Research Methods), a religious hermit is an example. He further states:

This type of deviant (emphasis mine) rejects the cultural goal of appearing respectable and acquiring material possessions (e.g., house, car, etc.). He or she also rejects the legitimate means of reaching the goal (e.g., being honest, working at a job, etc.).

A deviant, am I? Sheesh! I restored my monk haircut today. As I mentioned before, I get my haircuts at a local beauty college. Economics forces me to do so. If I wasn't a practitioner of "retreatism," I could probably afford to get a decent haircut. I suppose that the mendicant lifestyle eventually leads to insanity. This thought dawned upon me when I was at CompUSA this morning. I went there specifically to buy a case for my Palm IIIe. The experience was unpleasant even though there were few people in the huge store. The displays were a mess, probably the aftermath of the weekend shoppers. I saw the case and noticed that it had a price tag of $30. I immediately saw the folly of my error. I had almost fallen into the biggest consumer trap. Accessories. What a sham!

I took the bus back to town and splurged on two Bean Burritos (my way!) at Taco Bell. In case you are wondering, I always order regular Bean Burritos with the green sauce and cheese. No red sauce. No onions. Then, I use three packets of the "Fire" hot sauce on each. Never open the burrito and pour the sauce in it. You must pour the sauce from the crummy packet onto the burrito as you eat it. That's the ol' lavahead's ritual. The Festival of the Bean Burritos.

While waiting for the express bus, I and several others were privy to witness a pathetic example of road rage. A dumbass local got out of his car and smashed the driver's side window of the car next to him as they waited at the intersection. The haole victim pulled his car out of the middle lane into traffic to flee from the moron. I immediately called 9-1-1 with my beloved cell phone. Several other people must have done the same thing. Within seconds, there were cops everywhere. The express bus came by a few minutes later. As the bus weaved its way through traffic, I could see flashing blue lights ahead. The cops had caught the dumbass. He's probably in jail now.

Friday December 22

The day started off bad when the express bus came early. So early that it left many of us stranded. Fortunately, I caught a ride with Dennis, one of the other riders. I spent most of the day in frustration because the only computer with a scanner kept crashing after attempting to scan in a page. Overall, it took me over five hours to scan in five pages of material. I could have typed it all in faster than that. In actuality, I had to type in the last page because I just couldn't take it anymore.

I wanted a Whopper (my way, of course!) but the lines at Burger King were too long. So, I walked to Mickey Dee's across the street. The pathetic Big n' Tasty (a Whopper imitation) happened to be 99 cents as well. So, I tried to order it my way. I wanted everything on it but only with ketchup as the main condiment. Apparently, the dumbass local didn't understand me. I should have spoke Pidgin English. What I got was the bun, the greasy hamburger patty, and some ketchup. No lettuce. No tomatoes. No onions. I was already back at the university when I discovered this stupidity, so it was pointless to erupt in senseless violence. To make myself feel better, I walked to Tanioka's later and bought the Lau Lau plate lunch. Much better than the piece of greasy cardboard that I had eaten earlier.

All of that quickly became moot when I returned to my scanning project. The experience almost brought me to violence. I managed to take a break and go to the gym. I am certain that the sinister kahuna was attempting to toy with the oversized cranium. There is no way that everything could go wrong by chance, one after the other. Sheesh! I have seen all of my favorite faculty buddies. Once again, I have overreacted to a petty situation. They are still somewhat pompous but I have to accept that fact. Academia is that way. The world doesn't revolve around the oversized cranium. He's the low man on the totem pole. Perhaps I have become pompous myself. That could be the problem. The events of today may have been a wake-up call, signaling a time of reckoning if I don't come to my senses.

Saturday December 23

I spent the whole day doing absolutely nothing. Well, actually, I fretted over how I was wasting my valuable vacation time. I lapsed in and out of a coma while sitting in favorite chair. I should have taken my beloved six-four in for that farce of a "safety check." However, the horn has stopped working, no doubt due to the corrosion from the salt air. I also pondered my personal state of affairs. I did not meet my financial goals this year. With my new financial burden, I will definitely not even come close to meeting my goals at the end of next year. I suspect that moms has been subsidizing my bro's family. Moms has complained of being broke ever since they moved out. That makes absolutely no sense unless we consider the "subsidization" factor.

Dealing with the simple-mindedness of my family is frustrating. I oftentimes see exactly where I derived my poor decision-making skills. I was losing my mind by late afternoon, so I broke down and bought a 12-pack of cheap brewskis. I'm droppin' em back as we speak. I know that it sounds like a poor excuse, but I must sedate myself. I realized earlier today that I just cannot stop my mind from analyzing everything. I may be suffering from some kind of acute psychopathology. No surprise, given my fragile mental state. To appease myself, I uninstalled a few more applications from my beloved notebook computer. I also spent some time cleaning my computer. Then, I changed the look of the desktop by putting up the "Estella" (babe) wallpaper. Yowza! I looked at all of the new notebook computers when I was at CompUSA the other day. I doubt that I'll be able to afford any of them.

I read an interesting article, Why Men Pay to Stay Married, by Steven Landsburg. His main premise is that men pay to stay married, and women pay to get divorced:

Married men, in effect, pay their wives to stick around (by acquiescing to a lifestyle where the wife gets to consume more than she could earn on her own).

In substantiation, he offers the following argument:

Moreover, there's a good reason, rooted in both economics and biology, why we should have expected this conclusion all along. A 30-year-old woman who wants a family is getting close to the point where she has to choose the best of her available suitors. A 30-year-old man can always choose to wait another five or 10 years till someone better comes along. In general, the longer you spend searching for something — be it a car, a house, or a life partner — the happier you're going to be with the one you end up with. So — again, with myriad exceptions — a woman's optimal strategy is to settle for an imperfect mate and then try to change him. A man's optimal strategy is to search until he finds someone close to perfect. It's therefore no surprise that women, more often than men, should end up regretting their choices.

Well, that's food for thought anyway. Sheesh!

Sunday December 24

My sister-in-law came by around noon to pick up moms for a get-together at my bro's place. Naturally, the ol' lavahead was left to fend for himself. In thinking about my dysfunctional family situation, I had no choice but to drop back a few cheap brewskis. Pseudo-professor Robert had apparently called last night and left a message. I didn't notice the message until late this morning. He had tickets to the O'ahu Bowl football game and wanted to know if I would go with him. I accepted the invitations but had second thoughts. Then, I realized that, if I didn't go to the game, I'd be sitting at home and stewing over the stupid family dynamics that I can barely tolerate.

So, I drove my beloved six-four over to pseudo-professor Robert's place. As you may recall, he resides with his mother. I managed to check the horn on the way there. Apparently, I fixed the problem when I was tinkering with it the other day. So, my six-four is ready for the "safety check." I met Robert's mother. Then, we were off to the game with Robert driving.

We arrived at the Aloha Stadium early. So, we took a tour of the stadium. This is the first time I've been in the stadium. Well, if you saw the Virginia versus Georgia (college) game today, that is where the ol' lavahead was. In the end zone labeled "O'ahu," way up in the upper section was where we sat. The game was somewhat pathetic. In fact, the stadium was almost empty. Most people left during the third quarter.

After the game, we drove back to pseudo-professor Robert's place with rap music blasting. Somewhat comical, as I have discovered that he has taken a liking to the rap genre. His one favorite tune is about finding a "project chick." When we arrived back at his place, there was a family get-together in progress. He invited me to stay. I felt a little uncomfortable since I am not a part of his family. What was even stranger was that I met pseudo-professor Robert's sister, only to find out that I knew who she was. Linda is the babe who works for the bus company where Paul (in Seattle) and I did short consulting stints about three years ago. Sheesh! What a small world!

I'm glad that I went along with pseudo-professor Robert today. I've learned a lesson about my own stupidity. I don't really know if I am a good person. That is often evident by what I write in the journal. I may be evil, more so than what I make the handmaiden out to be. Sometimes I question people's motivations, but what about mine? The shades may not be concealing much. I may be a man with no soul.

Monday December 25

Another uneventful day. I had to drop back the remaining cheap brewskis. Moms was complaining about how the neighbors (not the lolo) had left the remains of an uprooted mango tree lying around. It was lying on our side of the property line. I just went outside, picked it up, and threw it in the trash can. Situation mummified. Perhaps I should handle everything in this manner. When the lolo's family acts up, I should just walk over there and jolt 'em in cranium with the Nova Spirit. All of this typifies the xenophobic neighbor relations that prevails in Hawai'i. That's why all of these locals go loco. There's too much talk and no action, that is, until it's too late.

I also cleaned up the halogen lamp that I had bought for moms. Since moms no longer uses it, I wrapped it up and put it aside with my Bose Acoustic Wave. I also put together more things that I will drop off at Goodwill. I thought of donating the halogen lamp, but it is a little too expensive to give away. Tentatively, I plan to donate the Talon Taser-like device. I will keep the Nova Spirit since it was awful expensive. When I was at pseudo-professor Robert's place yesterday, I noticed that he had boxes stacked up everywhere. It was reminiscent of the "warehouse" at moms' place when the Ninja Turds lived there. He has never unpacked since returning home. That was my predicament for a long time until I just got rid of everything. He and I have a lot in common, much more than I thought.

Tuesday December 26

I donated the Talon Taser-like device to Goodwill on Beretania. The people there are probably jolting each other's craniums with it as we speak. Sheesh! So, let me describe the day. I left at 10:30 this morning, opting to ride the regular bus. The trip was enjoyable as the bus was not crowded. I got off near the Goodwill store and walked there. After I dropped off my donations, I walked toward downtown. It's only about three blocks away. It has been a long time since I have just meandered about. I took the pathway through the State Capital and Iolani Palace grounds. I really had nowhere to go since the university was closed. I ended up sitting outside in the YWCA courtyard for an hour.

I stopped by the Asylum's puny library for about 30 minutes. Then, I went to the gym. Fortunately, I was able to avoid Roach and his cohorts. Took the early express bus home. Did the yardboy chores. I kind of miss the Talon Taser-like device. Can you imagine those Goodwill fools zapping each other with that stupid thing?

I don't know why, but I have been extremely bothered by my family dynamics (term used loosely). I recalled one particularly disturbing incident that I described in the journal. I had brought back some duck from Patty's in Ala Moana. Remember that no one would eat the duck, as if it were poisoned? This is just one of the many strange things about my family. I suppose the stupid mango tree incident of yesterday made me think about this matter. I'm beginning to feel like Al Gore. Maybe it's "time for me to go."

One last thought. Pseudo-professor Robert has often lamented at the Wailing Wall about the babe situation. However, after giving this some thought, I realized that one has to work at remaining single. We've all seen how many so-called losers have babes. Well, that's my point. Some people go through excruciatingly painful procedures to insure their celibacy. If anyone goes through that much trouble to remain single, then why not accept it already? Why not learn from The Master? Why not become a monk?

Wednesday December 27

I went to the walk-in clinic at my healthcare provider this morning. I have been concerned about a few health issues. Since I've never bothered to select a physician, I had to take my chances at the clinic. My main concern dealt with the chickenpox-like rash below my chest that has persisted for months. I was certain that I was suffering from the old man malady know as Shingles. The good news is that I don't have Shingles. The bad news is that the dermatology clinic is booked until the end of next month. Even more dumb is the fact that my health insurance does not cover most of the dermatology services. That is why only the rich and famous can afford to look attractive. The poor and destitute must be content with looking like General Noriega. That's probably why General Noriega became a crazed dictator. Sheesh!

My FTP services are finally back on-line. I have no idea why the university had them firewalled. So, I must begin the arduous task of sprucing up LoserNet. I must also add the latest additions to the Virtual Harem (see Lavahead Express). All I have is LoserNet! At least it hasn't gone under like a lot of the so-called dot-coms.

Thursday December 28

I discovered today through the university Web site that Pseudo-professor John has stepped down. Actually, he no longer exists as far as the university is concerned. To make absolutely certain, I checked our common office. His desk was empty. Pseudo-professor Emmett was the first casualty of war, that is, the war the students are waging against the faculty. I've also heard that the elite faculty are not immune either. There is so little communication from the administration. Pseudo-professor Robert is down to one class for the Spring term. How did he find out? Through the university Web site, of course. He was perturbed because no one from his department even bothered to tell him. I believe that I have lost a class as well. Economically, this puts me in further dire straits.

I had the best Whopper (my way, of course!) ever, most likely because I was the only customer in Burger King at 10:45am. I knew it was going to be good because I saw the person at the grill making it. So much care was put into that Whopper, and all because I was well ahead of the lunch crowd. That delicious Whopper made all the difference in the world. The morons and idiots around me seemed insignificant for once. What more can a loser ask for?

Friday December 29

My vacation is nearly over. and I can't say that I got much accomplished. I have essentially terminated the studying for the comprehensive exam. All I do is sit in the chair in the faculty computer center and wait until it's time to go to the gym. There's so much to be done, and all I'm doing is kickin' the can around. Maybe it's Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. Could it be due to the pathetic pauper's life that I must live? I am deprived in both material and sensorial aspects. It is also my refusal to participate in this debaucherous lifestyle. Now I am truly alone and with no toys to play with. Why don't I just give in and go for broke? After all, this is my one and only life to live.

I don't have an answer. Sometimes I wish I was rollin' in da 'hood with a new Z3, hitting on babes, and skinnin' 'em up left and right. I'd spend every dime that I made, but I'd be livin' large. Instead, I chose to be a monk and save for my retirement. In the interim, my plans were thwarted by the market crash, taxes, and other unforeseen expenses, no doubt orchestrated by the sinister kahuna.. What was it worth? If I had spent it all, I could have had a good time, albeit a short one. Right now, I may just end up losing all I have and not even enjoyed one cent of it. That's the bottom line. Little wonder why no one sees any point in saving.

I made the mistake of believing in a fallacy ... that I could retire within four years. Fat chance. Only the affluent can afford to do that. The peons must work as long as they can still walk. You've followed the course of the ol' lavahead's life for almost five years now. Perhaps the monk lifestyle just isn't cutting it anymore. The year 2001 is just around the corner. Have I made significant progress? Any progress at all? Or, have I taken a number of steps backwards? The answers to these questions should determine my future direction.

Saturday December 30

My six-four passed the "safety check" without a hitch. That was $15 for a five-minute inspection that I could have done myself. I spent most of the day doing my yardboy chores. Then, I washed out the interior of my six-four. There is a stray kitty (or mutt) taking a whiz in my six-four. There were paw prints on the hood. If it is a kitty, then it's big, fat one. I will be putting out a dish of antifreeze for kitty very soon.

One more day left in this pathetic year. I bought a six-pack of cheap brewskis to celebrate. That's all I could afford, since the rent is due soon. I ate a whole bag of Tostitos tortilla chips with salsa. Moms made the oven version of Kalua Pig for dinner. Let's hope that you are having a much more exciting time during this New Year's weekend than the ol' lavahead.

Sunday December 31

This is the end of the year. Not just any year. The year 2000. Did I celebrate this auspicious occasion? Not really. I spent most of the day doing yardboy chores again. I managed to remove one of the many stumps. I also washed and waxed my beloved six-four.

Moms took a whole mess of food over to my bro's place. Naturally, moms took the bus there and back. Everyone was allegedly under the weather. Yet, at 6:30pm, my sister-in-law drove up because she and the nephew were going somewhere. Say what? I thought everyone was illin'. This led to a discussion with moms about my concerns. Moms is convinced that my sister-in-law has changed for the better. I have to accept moms' belief just as Al Gore had to accept the infamous Supreme Court decision. Of course, nothing says that I have to agree.

Although there are new fireworks laws in effect, it did little to curb the activity tonight. Many people will still be literally burning thousands of dollars for the Big One at midnight. The popular belief is that the evil spirits will be chased away for the year. Do you think that the sinister kahuna would fall for that? I doubt it. Hauoli Makahiki Ho'u from all of us at LoserNet. The ol' lavahead will be spending New year's Eve on his beloved notebook computer. Wheeee! If he is daring, he may even tune into Net Radio House. Sheesh!

To be continued ... Go to V.01