Wednesday August 1, 2001

I have observed that the tightness in my gut seems bother me more after I have been to the gym or when my posture is bad. Should I call up my physician to see if I can cancel that dreadful Barium Enema? Or, should I go through with it just to make sure that I have no internal problems? Growing old is no fun, I assure you. I have so many things to do this month. Looks like I won't be enjoying my Summer after all. I have no idea how other people juggle everything and still get to enjoy life. I have noticed that most people seem so much happier than I. They make more dough. They have more toys. Few are in any kind of decent physical shape. Yet, none of them will be going through the Barium Enema experience in 19 days. Sometimes, I just don't get it.

I have been wondering again about why guys like The Master, myself, and Pseudo-professor Robert are not babe magnets. Well, it's easy to see why babes are not attracted to the oversized cranium. However, there are a select few guys who reluctantly live a monk existence. I am not exactly certain but I can only attribute this phenomenon to the eunuch-like behavior and the Data-like personality. Both factors create an asexual aura. I have studied these concepts and have also cross-referenced a variety of sources to confirm my thesis. Whether the application of these factors is deliberate remains unknown. Babes are a non-issue for the ol' lavahead anyway. In fact, I have also observed that babes have been my most problematic students. What does that tell you?

I am becoming more detached from the machinations of common, everyday fools as the days go on. Soon I hope to be totally immune from stupidity. I am concerned about my fragile mental state. I am always on the verge of erupting in violence. My levels of stress and discontent must be extremely high. Perhaps it's time to break out the St. John's Wort again. Sheesh!

Thursday August 2

All I have is my bottle of Kim Chee. I'm not complaining, mind you, for there is nothing that can compare to a good bottle of Kim Chee. Well, making a hurdy-gurdy DVD with Brianna Banks would certainly be better. If I was doing those scenes with Brianna, I am not sure if I would be able to follow the script, no less control myself. I'd go wild doin' da wild thing. Wait a minute ... I'm a damned monk. Sheesh! I wonder who is Pseudo-professor Robert's favorite hurdy-gurdy star. I'll have to ask.

I mentioned that I have a lot of things to do this month. It's true. At the top of the list is the Barium Enema. I also have to go to the clinic to pick up the Barium Enema Kit, so I can prepare for the real fun. I still have to set up another dermatology appointment. My cell phone service must be terminated. My CD music library must be divested. I have to prepare materials for my Fall classes. All I really want to do is to lapse into a coma in my beloved resin chair.

Almost everyone is paired up here in Hawai'i, or so it seems. There are very few unattached singles and I'm not just describing my age bracket. It's across the board. Now I see why there is so much desperation on the part of the few eunuchs in existence. The romance pandemonium must exist because of media saturation of the subject matter. What is truly odd is the fact that even the most unlikely candidates (read: guys) are spoken for. Sometimes I look at these clowns and wonder how they managed to hook up with babes. It makes no sense. My guess is that they had snapped into action at some point in time, however unlikely it may seem. People like The Master, Pseudo-professor Robert, and the ol' lavahead are anomalies. I know that this topic sounds extremely ludicrous. What I am discussing is a small, elite group of guys who are single and abstinent for long periods of time, sometimes a whole lifetime. That means little or no contact with babes.

If we went by the "get a life" standard, then we are focusing on the true losers of society. There have been many studies which have shown that babes actually initiate contact with guys. Armed with this knowledge, I was able to observe this fact firsthand in almost any situation. Why do babes not initiate anything with a select group of losers? It is as if they can sense something. Some kind of deterrent. I have personally proven that the eunuch-like behavior and the Data-like personality can serve as deterrents. I had scientifically designed those parameters using a review of the literature concerning mating rituals. The most striking aspect is that I did not have to train myself to be eunuch-like. I already possessed those traits. Can it be that people like The Master were born with and/or "socialized" with these traits? I have discussed this matter ad infinitum in the legacy journal. So, there is no dispute about the facts at hand. However, what exactly do the babes sense when in the presence of eunuchs? Are the eunuchs invisible or they feared as perverts?

I'm not sure why I wasted so much space on a moot subject. I am, of course, a monk. This whole discourse was a matter of intellectual curiosity. Nothing more. Nothing less. I have my beloved Brianna Banks hurdy-gurdy DVD library. I have my beloved iBook to play them on. What more can a monk ask for?

Friday August 3

Last night, I had to run out of the house to prevent myself from being asphyxiated by toxic fumes. Moms has come up with a new ingenious solution to control the "lizard" (read: gecko) population inside the house. She sprays them with Lysol disinfectant. Of course, at the same time, the numerous oscillating fans are on full blast to cool the house. So, the fumes permeate every room. As you can probably guess, moms still mixes all kinds of chemicals with her favorite household cleaner, chlorine bleach. I have tried to reason all of this out, even citing articles in the various religious publications moms read. Mind you, these are the only publications that have any credence with moms. Unfortunately, there was nothing specific about using Lysol disinfectant as a "lizard" repellent. This is the kind of crap that I must tolerate on a daily basis, not just from moms, but from most of the local population. Not much has changed since I left for the mainland about 30 years ago insofar as local-style thinking is concerned. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why we must recruit the haoles from the mainland to do the thinking for us. We are just incapable of thinking for ourselves. And, when we do try to think, the results are ludicrous. Who would have come up with using Lysol spray disinfectant to eradicate the "lizards"?

I have never been able to figure out the simple-mindedness of the locals. It baffles me, which is probably why I am associated with so few of them. I have nothing in common. My belief is that Pidgin English (actually considered a creole language at this point) is largely to blame. When a stunted form of language is used as a means of communication, it actually stifles the thinking process. There is no way to conceptualize and structure logical thought processes without a rich vocabulary to draw from. If we can only use simple words, then we can only think in simple terms. There is no way to reason with a simpleton because that person is unable to comprehend the reasoning. I have argued for the "bilingual" implementation of Pidgin English, such that it should not be eliminated. However, I see that the locals have taken it upon themselves to overexaggerate the use of the language as a means to separate themselves and maintain a unified front. However, this strategy is only hurting them as they neither have power or money to back them. They are a proud, poor, and stupid, unified front. I suppose that I sound a bit conceited. Don't believe the hype! I am actually saddened by this obstinate attitude. Yet, who listens to me? So, why should I really care?

I copied portions of the latest journal entry into SimpleText, a Mac application. Then, I let the application read the text back to me. Yes, the iBook speaks! "Victoria" is the voice that I have selected for all speech items. The speech processing software is pretty good. This is something that Windows never had. I am even more amused by the latest series of computer viruses. They are targeted at Windows computers. I have the SirCam virus in an attachment in e-mail that was probably sent to me by an infected computer. The e-mail is sitting in my inbox on the university mail server. I could unleash it on any number of systems by "inadvertently" opening the attachment. Why bother? There are already a number of unwitting fools doing so already.

Well, the weekend is finally upon us. I can't even describe the jubilation I feel when I am away from the salt mines. I am extremely tired, though, and my throat is a bit scratchy. Perhaps I am coming down with something, aside from insanity. I have been tempted to unbox my Bose Acoustic Wave to listen to the psychotic classical pieces on public radio. Sadly, even that innocuous form of music can easily get on my nerves. Silence is golden. I may unbox it anyway, because I must somehow justify the amount of dough that I spent on the Acoustic Wave. I could sell it, but I've already filled my quota in financial losses this year. What the heck, I'll break out the Bose right now. Sheesh!

Saturday August 4

I never unboxed the Bose Acoustic Wave last night. I was not feeling too well, so I went to sleep at 10pm, if you can believe it. My throat was very sore this morning, which means that I have contracted some kind of disease. I didn't feel particularly good today. The sweltering heat made it almost impossible for me to lapse into a coma. I tried nonetheless. What a way to spend the weekend. To add insult to injury, my replacement Brianna Banks DVD has still not arrived. So, I e-mailed the hurdy-gurdy dealer to inquire about the problem. No one should be denied a Brianna Banks DVD. Sheesh!

I saw Pseudo-professor Robert yesterday. He misplaced his infamous Zip disk again. I'm surprised that he needs it at all, now that he has a Sony VAIO computer with a DVD player. He has had quite a few interesting problems with his computer. I summed it up in one word — Microscum. He wasn't amused. "See, you really should have gotten a Mac," I added. That's a bit of advice I give freely to everyone now. I was quite saddened to learn that Microscum owns a significant part of Apple. In the long run, Linux may be only true alternative.

I didn't think about much today since I wasn't feeling too well. I briefly imagined what it would be like to do da wild thing with Brianna Banks. That pretty much overloaded the circuits in the oversized cranium. So, I didn't ponder much else. Perhaps I will be in a philosophical mood tomorrow.

Sunday August 5

I am still under the weather, as it were. I find it frustrating to spend my weekend away from the salt mines in an incapacitated state. No surprise, eh? I am extremely fatigued, and my thought processes are significantly impaired. I looked through the usual Sunday ads only to notice nothing but Windows computers and software. I surmise that, if Apple does not succeed with OS X, then it will finally go under. Like sheep, most of the world will follow the Microscum shepherd. "Buy Windows XP now," says the shepherd. "Baaaaaaaaa," meekly cry the sheep. Only a few people have become discontented enough to leave the herd. The rest are content to pay the dough and complain ad nauseam. Even Apple users are sickeningly apologetic about using the Mac platform. Or, they are "closet" Mac users. I feel extremely bad, in retrospect, because I have discouraged many people from buying Macs with the same old propaganda recited by all the Microscum gurus and groupies. However, make no mistake — Microscum is only in the kingpin position because we put it there.

My bro stopped by this afternoon. We ended up dropin' back a six-pack of Moosehead. I'm glad that he stopped by because I was going bonkers. I had unboxed the Bose Acoustic Wave. The psychotic classical pieces on public radio were even more unnerving than usual. The brewskis sure went down smoothly. I will sleep well tonight. Back to the salt mines tomorrow, sad to say.

Monday August 6

Yesterday, the ugly ho' and her daughter left at about 5pm, as my bro and I stood outside talking. The two trollops returned at about 11pm. I was trying to get some sleep since I did not feel well. I heard someone kicking around a trash container, so I thought that the old ho' was looking for trouble. No doubt, strung out on Ice. Then, I heard the lolo's front door slam. Within minutes, the shouting match began. The young ho' was yelling (read: cussing) at the top of her lungs. After about 20 minutes, I believe that the ugly ho' was yelling something about calling the cops. Sure enough, two squad cars pulled up shortly afterward. The cops were questioning the suspects. I could only hear the young ho' twisting the cops around her little finger. Perhaps she has watched Poison Ivy numerous times and has made the role second nature. All I know is that the little prick-tease is dangerous. After the cops left, the yelling commenced again. "Gimme my [copulating] phone. I need my [copulating] numbers," the young ho' kept yelling. I should have called the cops myself, but I refrained. The stupidity was just too amusing. Most of the young punks here in Hawai'i have cell phones. That's their lifeline. The young ho' went ballistic after the old hag took her phone away. I looked out the window and I could see the silhouette of the two skanks wrestling over the cell phone in the ugly ho's room.

I had to deal with a number of morons today as well. Some of my borderline punk students at the Asylum became infuriated after they could not bluff their way through my exam. I warned these fools a long time ago. One yelled out some profanity and kicked some things around before stomping out of the classroom. Next term, I'm changing over to "high school shop teacher" mode. That's the only kind of education these stupid punks will ever understand. What's worse is that the losers are computer networking majors. Yet, they can't even figure out a simple Excel spreadsheet. Stupid, [copulating] knobs.

Even though I didn't feel well, I finished my syllabi and policies for my debut as a high school shop teacher. I also went to the gym. That was a mistake. I was almost run over by some inconsiderate prick in a wheelchair. He works out at the gym. He's loud, obnoxious, and annoying. He specializes in meathead grunts which reverberate through the whole gym. Then, the moosehead recklessly throws all of the equipment about. He speeds around in that stupid wheelchair and often forces people to jump out of his way. I don't even care about that "politically correct" [dung]. This guy is a paraplegic jerk-off. I don't owe this prick anything. I don't even owe him any respect, and I could care less about his "handicap." I mentioned something to one of the gym employees. "That guy is a mother[copulating] punk ass ...," he started off, which led into quite a tirade.

I can see why a few people turn into homicidal maniacs. However, they are too stupid to realize that they are taking out the wrong people. There are so many ungrateful asswipes taking up valuable space on this planet. And, each and every one of them gets in other people's faces. That what irks me the most. They can't sit down and shut up. I'm only glad that my replacement Brianna Banks DVD arrived today. If only I could do da wild thing with Brianna once. Hey, wait a minute! I'm a damned monk! It's almost strangely perverted that I find the most pristine aspect of this cesspool lifestyle to be my hurdy-gurdy DVD library. Humanity is doomed. The evil that we perpetrate on each other is long past the point of no return. We are becoming more creative and more devious in the kinds of evil that we exact upon each other. I've always wanted to escape, but I have come to learn that there is nowhere to run to. The refuge that I seek can only come from within. It is in the most macabre of situations that the goodness of the heart and the spirit of humanity can prevail. There would be many who follow this route if not for the diversions which tend to deaden our senses. Only alone in solitude can we reflect on our deeds and make the appropriate changes for the redemption of our souls. Make no mistake, that redemption does not come from a higher source. It comes from within. Only much later can we seek redemption from above.

I suppose that one could conjure up images of the ol' lavahead as some kind of psycho, ready to go homicidal. Or, as a chicken chokin' maniac gooing up his keyboard as he watches his Brianna Banks DVDs on his beloved iBook. Even I must get down on my hands and knees to beg for forgiveness. Brianna may be my undoing. The weaknesses of the flesh.

Tuesday August 7

As I waited for the express bus, I saw the wheelchair buddy across the street. He must have just left the gym. Fortunately, I didn't see him when I was there. I suppose that, as a monk, I should be more forgiving. His need for attention is most likely related to his feelings of inadequacy. It's all probably a matter of babes. Nonetheless, the guy is still an asswipe.

I felt pretty good when I woke up, but I was not feeling too good by noon. Perhaps, that had to do more with my dealings with the various doorknobs (read: students) in my classes. Sheesh! I have discovered that there are quite a few awesome hurdy-gurdy babes. I must now expand my beloved DVD library to include Jenna Jameson, Rocki Roads, Bonita Saint, JR Carrington, Lexus Locklear, Tera Patrick, and more. I'm happy with my hurdy-gurdy library because real babes are just too much trouble. I am convinced that babes do not enjoy da wild thing with guys. It's a necessary evil to get what they want. It's a barter system. How do I know? Well, just get a babe mad, and see what happens. Usually, no wild thing, eh? Guys are doomed in this respect because the Vienna Sausage, the damned appendage, is literally hanging around conspicuously. No matter what anyone says, that is what guys live for.

As a monk, I have learned that "mind over matter" does indeed work, and its implementation is necessary for survival. The hurdy-gurdy library is a vital utensil because it raises one's level of expectations, albeit superficially. The end result? A slim chance that one would give in to the way of the flesh with anyone less than Brianna Banks. Perfect! In addition to the eunuch-like behavior and the Data-like personality, this inflated expectation is a preventive measure against desperate acts. I am certain that The Master has already discovered this axiomatic gem.

I really enjoy spending the evenings alone with my iBook, not necessarily watching hurdy-gurdy DVDs, I might add. The computer is my only useful possession. I am still convinced that pretty much everything can be replaced by the computer. It's just perfect for the monk existence. So, that's what I'll do this evening. Say, maybe I should check in at the DVD Xtreme site and order a few Tera Patrick DVDs. Yowza!

Wednesday August 8

I am still recovering from the effects of whatever disease I had fallen prey to. This morning, I talked with John, one of my students at the Asylum, who is a year older than I am.

"Have you done any of the old man tests yet?" I asked. "You know, like the Barium Enema."

"Yeah," he replied. "I had a colonoscopy a few years ago. That's when I had kidney stones. Seventeen of them. At that time, my doctor told me that I might well take a few other tests. So, he fixed me right up."

The Vienna Sausage is probably going to start malfunctioning at any time as well. That's probably when I'll really lose it. Just kidding! It doesn't matter. I'm not using it for much anyway. However, I have noticed that there is an older babe (but still much younger than the ol' lavahead) on the express bus in the morning. She always says hello to the oversized cranium. If I wasn't a monk, I'm certain that my mind would start playing tricks on me. Sheesh! I have not heard from Malia in a long time. I wonder if she got back together with her old flame. Or, maybe she found a new flame. I haven't seen her around campus, so I can only suspect the worst. She probably hooked up and dropped out. It's a local phenomenon that keeps coming back like a bad sitcom.

Thursday August 9

I spent quite a bit of time talking with a few other faculty at the Asylum this morning. Some of the faculty are good people. Others, I could care less about. My discussions have further confirmed that the "high school shop teacher" mode is my only recourse. In fact, I am already anxious to implement it. I am gradually getting my work done. I want to be able to relax for my two-week vacation at the end of the month, although I highly doubt that will be possible after the Barium Enema.

I have about a month left before my cell phone service is terminated. I don't even carry the stupid thing with me anymore. And, I never check to see if anyone called. All day long I see people talking on their cell phones. It's a stupid fad. The damned things are totally useless. I know people who have monthly bills of $400 or more. Are they all that affluent? As for me, I can no longer justify my $14 monthly fee. Of course, divesting the cell phone is easy for me because I am a recluse.

I am always thinking and reflecting upon the mistakes I've made in this lifetime. I can't help it because I'm paying for these mistakes even as we speak. I am coming around to the fact that I can't retire in three years. I must continue to work as long as I have a job. Sooner or later, I'm going to be on my own again, and I have to be prepared for that inevitability. If I had taken responsibility for my life even ten years ago, then I would be doing so much better today. I would probably even have a place of my own. That's no longer a feasible option for me. My working lifetime now precludes a mortgage, and I have little or no job security as it is. I'm the one who painted myself in this corner. I have no one else to blame. I am sure that Pseudo-professor Robert ponders the same issues. However, he has chosen to immerse himself in new and expensive toys. That only placates the mind for a short period of time. Then, back to reality.

The next few years are going to be rough. I will be battling the demons of my own mind. I will continue to question my objectives. Along the way, I will ponder whether I made a mistake about becoming a monk. Yet, I know that I will never give in to materialism. The mendicant lifestyle is here to stay. However, I have to find a way to enjoy my life. I must have some kind of healthy diversion, one that costs little dough to indulge in. That's what is missing in my life. I could say that I need a babe. However, I have no way to prove that assertion. The "need" is purely wanton. My survival and my psyche are not dependent on a babe. In the end, I really need solitude. Living in moms' house is restricting and often unnerving, although I spend most of my time alone. Well, only time will tell. I am concerned that I will let fate determine my destiny. That's always been my mistake. I keep repeating that mistake. Have I learned my lesson yet?

Friday August 10

The weekend is upon us once again. I couldn't leave the salt mines quick enough. I unboxed my Bose Acoustic Wave, and I am listening to the psychotic classical pieces on public radio as we speak. Moms is preparing all kinds of food to cook, so I know that at least half of Saturday will be unnerving. When moms either cooks in the decrepit kamado or on the dilapidated hibachi, I cannot sit in the den addition. The smoke fills the room. I must also wrap the Bose Acoustic Wave in a plastic bag to prevent any smoke residue from settling on it. Well, so much for a relaxing weekend. The whole house is a study in Rube Goldberg design. When I use my beloved iBook, I usually sit in the kitchen. The only available electrical outlet is also the one that the microwave oven is plugged into. Naturally, while I am using my iBook, moms always wants to warm up one of those petrified biscuits that my bro's wife makes. Even with my new surge protector, I worry that the surge from the appliance will fry my iBook.

That is why I never have any peace of mind. I am subjected to either stupidity or substandard crap. I see now the folly of my ways. I have the typical engineering personality. I expect a level of perfection which is unattainable by mortal beings (read: non-engineers). That's probably why I couldn't take using Windows any longer. Whenever the blue screen of dung pops up out of nowhere, I feel like erupting in senseless violence. My demand for perfection, of course, is what drove me to purchase the Bose Acoustic Wave. Many will argue otherwise, but I feel that it is the most flawlessly designed piece of audio equipment. I am also planning to order additional memory for my iBook this evening. The memory prices have dropped quite a bit. I can now buy 256MB of memory for $40 or so. Unbelievable. I'll still have enough dough left to order a few hurdy-gurdy DVDs. Sheesh!

I'm not sure why moms bother to cook all of that food. Most of it is meat, so I eat very little of it. My bro also mentioned a few weeks ago that he doesn't care for a lot of the stuff moms cooks. I don't dare tell moms, because cooking all that stuff seems to give her some kind of purpose. If only my bro could see the trouble that moms goes through to cook the food with that piece of [dung] kamado, then maybe he would appreciate it more. It's just best that I tune all of it out, because the behavior all around me is too psychotic. Only Thorazine can solve this problem.

Saturday August 11

I almost went berserk today. I was sitting in my favorite chair and listening to the news on public radio on my beloved Bose Acoustic Wave. Moms decided to fire up the kamado at 8am and the smoke and ash was everywhere. I had to quickly clean off my Bose Acoustic Wave and box it up. Moms didn't finish cooking until 3 o' clock this afternoon. I spent all that time sitting on the floor in my room because that's the only place I could breathe fresh air. My bro's wife came by within a few minutes to pick up all of the food. She didn't stay long so I was given a reprieve from insanity.

I had nothing to read except my OS X propaganda booklet. That's what I did for about seven hours, if you can believe it. I almost convinced myself to install OS X on my beloved iBook, but I changed my mind in the end. I ordered a memory module for the iBook last night. Even if I never install OS X, the additional memory will boost the overall performance. Doesn't make much sense, does it? I mean, I don't do any power computing with my iBook as it is. Sheesh!

Only one week left before the Barium Enema. Could that be why I'm on the edge? Well, I believe that I've pretty much summarized the whole situation. I know what the apparent problems are, and I know that there are solutions. I just haven't been significantly moved to do much about anything. Perhaps I am waiting for my ship to come in. or, maybe I am waiting for the shepherd. In either case, I'm not budging. What is most unnerving is that my gut feeling says that the whole problem somehow boils down to babes. It's plainly obvious when I observe Pseudo-professor Robert. I have mentioned that we lead very parallel lives and lifestyles, right down to the hurdy-gurdy DVDs! Speaking of which, I'll have to place an order this evening for a few more DVDs to add to my hurdy-gurdy library. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaaa! It's all about babes! I knew it! Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaa!

I really have to find some kind of diversion to take me away from this madness. I should have bought an ocean kayak. However, I can't transport it in my beloved six-four. That's the way my whole life has been. Poor planning. Lack of foresight. I'm not going out to buy a truck just so I can transport an ocean kayak around. I could take up surfing, but the damned board won't fit in my six-four either. I cannot understand why I am so stupid. I should have kept my beloved six-five (mountain bike), although there are very few places to ride it on this side of the island. Maybe I just need to spend more time at the gym.

Sunday August 12

I spent most of the day lapsing in and out of a coma in my favorite chair. Like a true psycho, I unboxed my Bose Acoustic Wave again. I listened to the psychotic classical pieces on public radio. I have yet to develop a fond appreciation for this type of music. All in all, this was a relaxing day. However, there is always some kind of stupidity to wreak havoc on my psyche. This time, it was beloved Norelco razor. I ended up pounding it with my fist a few times which only screwed up the blades and rendered the shaver useless. I had to Rube Goldberg the razor in order to shave using the two salvageable blades. Tomorrow, I've got to find some replacement blades. I am definitely on the edge. I didn't even think twice before battering my razor like a maniac. What's going to happen when my iBook acts up? Thanks goodness I'm not using Windows anymore. Sheesh!

I ordered a few more hurdy-gurdy DVDs last night. Rocki Roads and Bonita Saint are two of the featured babes. My spending has gone up quite a bit. New blades for my razor will also figure in. Then, I ordered more memory for the iBook. I've already spent more in the last month than I'll save in a year when I discontinue my cell phone service. Whassup wi' dat?

What exactly is bothering me? The Barium Enema looming just over the horizon? That's probably causing a good portion of my stress. Maybe my hurdy-gurdy DVD library is also adding to my stress as well. My mind has been preoccupied with a lot of disjointed thoughts. I have been engaged in the patchy recollection of my past. All kinds of memories have been popping into my mind almost intrusively. I can't seem to stop this flow of information. It's all kind of strange, but many things have changed since pops' passing. I've got to look at things in perspective. I have got a good life. I don't live in fear that some maniac is going to blow himself up amongst a crowd of people which may include me. I've only got the Barium Enema and a broken razor to taunt me. Alas, I return to the salt mines tomorrow. This will not be a bad week. I have almost everything done that needs to be done. My vacation starts on Friday.

Monday August 13

When I returned home, I decided to drive my six-four out to Long's in Kuapa Kai so I could purchase new blades for my beloved Norelco razor. I had gone to the downtown Long's but I neglected to bring the model number of my razor. Good thing. The blades were six dollars cheaper. They were still expensive ($30) nonetheless. I was compelled to get the blades. My Norelco razor is about 15 years old. Moms bought it for me when I came home to visit one year. My crummy Remington razor had given out. So, the Norelco has some sentimental value. The razor is just like new now.

I was going to take a bus to the clinic to pick up the Barium Enema Kit. However, I just didn't feel like making the trip, so I called the clinic. I made a request to have it sent to the university clinic, since it is the same health care provider. The kit should be there by Thursday. My hurdy-gurdy DVDs and the memory card for my iBook are on their way. I'm just spending non-existent dough like there's no tomorrow, eh? Well, the Payless shoes I bought in Cali are ready to fall apart. Remember when I bought them? I was visiting Caroll at the time. That's about three years ago. I've certainly gotten my money's worth out of them.

Living like a homeless guy (or a cheapskate) has many advantages. The primary advantage is that it saves a lot of dough. Secondly, no one is likely to think that I have any dough. I'm getting used to substandard junk. As I have detached myself from my possessions, I am no longer concerned about top-of-the-line crap. It's all the same to me.

I have been concerned about my diet ever since the Barium Enema situation came up. My family, like most local Hawai'i families, has always eaten a lot of meat. Red meat, pork, and chicken to be exact. I have no idea why this is so, but I know that vegetables are not really popular with many locals. In fact, I had a discussion with a local babe who told me that she ordered her Whopper (her way, of course!) without the lettuce, tomato, and onion. That's also why the Curry Stew plate lunch at Loco Moco has one piece of carrot and one chunk of potato. The rest is all meat. No wonder everyone is in bad shape here. That's probably why it's difficult to get a Barium Enema appointment. Sheesh!

Tuesday August 14

I took a few students from the Asylum on a tour of the university. I also made sure that an admissions packet was in each person's hand. I'm not sure why I bother, except that I am still true to my cause. I really want to see some of these people succeed. I want them to not repeat the classic mistakes that I made when I was their age. Only time will tell whether my efforts will pay off.

My beloved Norelco shaver works like new. I neglected to mention that I have never changed the blades prior to this. So, those old blades may have been close to 15 years old. That's how cheap I am. I don't replace anything until I absolutely have to. This philosophy is crucial to the mendicant monk lifestyle. I expect my razor to last at least another 15 years. There's no sense in wasting money just to be current. Of course, ideally it is best to not own anything. Then, the issue of replacement becomes totally moot.

I was also thinking about the kind of ordeal I would go through if I were looking for a babe. Naturally, this is merely an exercise in thought since I am a dedicated monk. There is no possible way that I could find someone whose lifestyle and thinking would be congruent with my own. Congruence. That's a big problem. I talked with several babes today. Although they were extremely gorgeous, I could never imagine hooking up with any of them. Well, I'm sure the feeling was mutual. I have so little in common with anyone, especially babes. How many babes could fathom my basic beliefs as chronicled in the journal? How many would not be repulsed by the hideous, oversized cranium?

That's why I am dedicated to the monk lifestyle. I have all that I need in the from of my modest possessions. My life is extremely simple and is really only complicated by the people around me. I am sure that The Master discovered these concepts a long time ago. I always thought that he was kidding because he cast everything in a comedic light. He knew that I was not ready to hear the truth, no less accept it. As I follow in The Master's path, I have come to learn the truth. I have discovered who I really am. The truth has set me free, although that freedom does not come without a price. An uncommon path normally leads to ostracism. I've already experienced this firsthand. I am too far along to turn back now. Fortunately, I have my Nova Spirit (Taser-like device) to guide me through this lonely journey, eh?

Wednesday August 15

I should recap some of the pathetic stories that I heard recently. One of my babe students at the university, Michel, was absent for about a week. I thought that she had dropped the class. Then, she just appeared in class again. I had time to talk to her since there was about ten minutes before class started and no one else was around.

"So, whassup?" I asked. "I thought you dropped the class."

"Nothing," she replied. "Well, I had a major crisis."

I can see why Pseudo-professor Robert expressed extreme frustration about his own singularity. The market is not good for singles, especially those who do not seem to be entrenched in the local lifestyle. I am oftentimes totally bewildered by what I observe. As a monk, I am not a part of this feeding frenzy. Yet, I understand what is going on. I am glad that I'm not in the market for a babe, for I would be disappointed at every turn. I was talking with another local student, Laura, who is married to a haole guy. She has spent time on the mainland as well. I mentioned to her about how I was ostracized by the locals because they do not believe that I am from Hawai'i. I am an outsider, a haole, to them. "We speak differently," she said. "We enunciate our words." How much more obvious it was to me once I heard what she said. I never even considered her a local, and she was born and raised here. In the end, there is not much I can do about this situation. I can only presume that I may very well become a master like The Master in due time. That is my destiny.

Thursday August 16

My new hurdy-gurdy DVDs arrived today as well as my new memory card for the iBook. I was much more excited about the memory card. However, I did not have a small enough screw driver to remove the RAM shield. I was a little disappointed. So, I had no other choice but to peruse my latest additions to my hurdy-gurdy library. Rocki Roads and Bonita Saint are awesome. Why can't I find babes like that? I was almost tempted to choke da chicken. Sheesh! Perhaps I should choke da chicken to see if the plumbing still works. After all, I'm an old guy now. I have many more Barium Enemas to look forward to. I picked up the Barium Enema Kit today, although I can't say that it was as exciting as watching Rocki Roads do da wild thing in all those positions. My preparation for the Barium Enema begins on Sunday morning. Stay tuned!

I took care of all my business today, just so that I would not have to go to town until the end of the month (read: payday). My vacation, albeit an unpaid one, has officially begun. Tomorrow, I must attend the Asylum's picnic outing. Wheeee! It's going to be held at Kapi'olani Park in Waikiki. I may take my beloved digital camera with me, although I have no idea why. I cannot interface the camera with my iBook, so I cannot process the pictures.

I e-mailed Mark this morning. Since I've become a recluse, I have not corresponded much with anyone. He has completed the laser eye surgery, but he apparently does not have perfect vision yet. The whole healing process may take a couple of months. I may give him a call on Saturday to see if he has any plans. Maybe we can go to an all-you-can-eat joint. After all, I'll be on a liquid diet this Sunday. I might as well stuff my face while I can.

Friday August 17

I caught a ride with Chip, another one of the illustrious faculty at the Asylum, to Kapi'olani Park. The picnic was pretty good. I chowed down on all kinds of the food. There were quite a few people there including a number of students who work on campus. None of my teaching assistants were there. I did happen to see the boyfriends of many of the babes. How do they pick these weasels? I managed to converse with a few faculty just to appear sociable. I did not take my digital camera with me, so there won't be any pictures for the archives.

The iBook now has 384MB of memory! I upgraded it this afternoon, after I spent considerable time and $6 for a jeweler's screwdriver set. I chipped the blade on one of my new screwdrivers because the RAM shield screws were torqued beyond necessity. I was a little miffed. After all, I just bought the damned set. I don't notice any significant performance increases, so I am wondering whether it will really make a difference with OS X. I plan to upgrade to OS X once the latest version becomes available next month.

What a life I lead! No babes. No dough. I have my beloved iBook with more memory. I have my hurdy-gurdy DVD library. Say, maybe it's time for me to view some of them. Nothing is more fitting than watching hurdy-gurdy DVDs on my beloved iBook on a Friday night. That's why this is LoserNet!

Saturday August 18

I observed that I may have been the only single person at the Asylum's picnic. Everyone else was attached. Some people attended by themselves but I know that they are spoken for. This is my observation no matter where I'm at. I am sure that some of the gossips at the picnic were wondering where the student that I am allegedly dating was at. I think we've cleared that rumor once and for all.

I ate everything that I possibly could. I also went on a liquid diet this afternoon. I'm talking about the Hammer. I polished off a whole bottle in anticipation of the real liquid diet tomorrow. I also unboxed the Bose Acoustic Wave. I've been listening to the psychotic classical pieces on public radio all day. Naturally, I had a lot of time to ruminate about a variety of subjects. I questioned my decision to become a monk. I wanted to break my vows. Yet, how could I do that? There aren't any babes who want to do da wild thing with the ol' lavahead. All I've got goin' on is the Barium Enema. Sheesh!

Sunday August 19

I had two cups of coffee this morning. In fact, that was the official start of my liquid diet. I opened the large container of Gatorade that I purchased yesterday. That's what I'll be surviving on until noon tomorrow. I tried to get as many things done beforehand. So, I even put petrol in my six-four, since I will be driving to the clinic. This whole situation has put me on the edge. The anxiety is two-pronged. The Barium Enema is, in and of itself, a pain in the ass. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaa! Pain in the ass ... get it? Baha! Ha! Haaa! In addition, I am, however, more concerned about the end result. There is a chance that I may actually have a major internal problem. What then?

By 10am, I was already feeling the pangs of hunger. I probably shouldn't have eaten as much as I did yesterday. That has most likely made my body much more aware of the void. I thought of renting a mainstream DVD to watch later this evening. However, I couldn't justify the cost, especially in view of the fodder that passes as entertainment. I'm better off perusing my hurdy-gurdy DVD library. Man, how do they find babes like Brianna Banks?

I downed the Phospho-Soda laxative at 12:30pm. Almost immediately, I felt bloated. Within 15 minutes, I was sitting on the can. I had repeated visits to the can until about 3:30pm, which makes for a real exciting day. Moms took the bus to my bro's place this afternoon. Once again, moms must watch my bro's son. That's okay. At least moms won't be here to see me go through the rest of the laxative ordeal. All I could really think about was food. The Gatorade and white grape juice was already to the point of being nauseating. I took a can of Chicken Broth and put it in the freezer for possible consumption later. Chicken Broth? Yuck!

I had a two-hour reprieve before the next phase of my laxative ordeal. I had been listening to the psychotic classical pieces on public radio for most of the day. However, when one is extremely hungry, that music can really grate on the nerves. So, I tuned in to one of the local rap stations. I was barely able to tolerate that garbage. How did I listen to that crap a few years ago? Actually, rap wasn't mainstream back then. Whenever anything goes mainstream, it usually ends up as [dung]. Prior to downing four Bisacodyl tablet, I opened the can of Chicken Broth. I chilled it so I could skim off any fat. I can't say that Chicken Broth will ever gain the status of Bush's baked beans. I kept half of the delicious broth to consume later. Taking these damned laxatives and waiting for them to take effect is unnerving. The disclosure statement listed a whole mess of side effects. I really feel like an old guy now. In fact, I repeatedly made assorted old man noises all day.

All I really wanted to do was buy ten Tombstone pizzas and stuff my face. Instead, I killed time by perusing the Net and reviewing my hurdy-gurdy DVD library. Brianna Banks is still my favorite, by the way. I also will listen to Hearts of Space late this evening. While I continued to wait for the Bisacodyl to take effect, I had to reflect on the Asylum's picnic. Chip had mentioned that he was looking forward to seeing Heidi, one of the Admissions staff, in shorts and a tank top. Heidi is a babe, and I thought I saw her checking out the ol' lavahead several times. Naturally, I was hallucinating, perhaps due to the anxiety created by the Barium Enema. Perhaps I need to buy a tube and sedate myself with it just like The Master.

Almost an hour had gone by, and the Bisacodyl had not kicked in. I decided to take a shower. Tomorrow morning, I must use the Bisacodyl suppository before I leave for my appointment. I will be packing some clean underwear just in case I have an old man "accident." I don't think that I need to describe the Barium Enema procedure since it is somewhat messy. It's all available on the Net, in case anyone is curious. The tightness in my gut was more pronounced ever since I began my laxative adventure. I am now extremely concerned that there is something wrong.

I am getting way ahead of myself now, so it's time for me to chill. I'll just relax and wait for the Bisacodyl to kick in. I'll consume the rest of the Chicken broth. I have time to peruse a few hurdy-gurdies before Hearts of Space comes on. I'll also be thinking about what I am going to eat the minute I'm out of the lab. Sheesh! I should really be thinking about babes. Just kidding! I'm a damned monk, and babes like Heidi don't even know that I exist. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaaa! Just give me a clean bill of health, and I'll be okay. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaaa!

To be continued ... Go to V.13
 

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