Category Archives: Life of Kipp

11 Ways to use Bitstrips

An accidental discovery wound up consuming an entire day.  Well, not the entire day because I advanced a few levels in Candy Crush, but most of it anyways.  First of all, I can’t draw for shit.  Shapes, no problem.  Unless it’s a decagon, because it has just as much sides as my ex-girlfriend.  Second, I think thought bubbles are genius.  It’s like saying something, but not really.

I’d like to reiterate how much I love-hate Facebook.  If you’re a newcomer to my blog, this will bring you up to speed.  The best compliment I can give Facebook is that it’s the best emotional refuse to date.  That I hate.  What I love is when you’re having a bad day, week, year, life, you can count on your News Feed to deliver one poor sap that’s having a (supposedly) worse time than you are, then capitalize with satirical mockery.  Enter Bitstrips.      Continue reading 11 Ways to use Bitstrips

When Islands Pop Out Of The Sea

When Islands Pop Out of the Sea: NPR

This article caught my eye being born, raised and still living on an island.  Although the Hawaiian Islands formation was from a different process, it is still remarkable to discover new (to me) information of the evolution of our planet.  Looks like the editor of the Book of Genesis is rolling in his grave.  Or is it heaven?

When Islands Pop Out of the Sea, NPR.org

The Bartender, The Waitress and The Dancer: Chapter II of II

Photo Credit: Dailyconcepts.com

“What the Fuck!!  Do you want us to die!?”  I yell and tug her arm away from the wheel.

In response of my defense, she slaps back and generously includes and elbow to my right ear.  My hearing goes numb on the right side.   Condensation accumulates on the windshield from the irate suicidal and her scowling mouth.  A stream of heat and maledictions whiz by my face as I roll down the window.  I continue to wonder why and how I got stuck in the honeycomb.  Trissy became too much beeotch to handle.

If I weren’t such a nice a guy, I would have dumped her on the curb like a Microsoft operating system.  There was an absence of goodbye kisses and pleasantries as we reached Trissys home.  I stared at her bubble behind as she walked away with flailing arms and thought, that’s the last time I tap that.

She owned a Playstation with a healthy library of games, which basically is code for keeper.

Continue reading The Bartender, The Waitress and The Dancer: Chapter II of II

The Bartender, The Waitress and The Dancer: Chapter I of II

The names have been modified for anonymity but the following story is remarkably factual.

“Why aren’t you answering your phone?!”

“I bet you’re hanging with that fucking bitch Jelena.”

“Get your ass down here and pick me up!”

“If you don’t call me back I’m gonna tell everybody at the club we’re fucking sleeping together!” My voice-mail relays to me.

“Your psycho friend again?”  Jelena smirks.  A yawn follows as she unravels her naked body from my arms.

“Yeah, I think Tristys drunk again.” I hand Jelena my phone and have her listen to the R rated voice-mails as I slip out of bed and jump in the shower.

“I think you should see what the fuss is about.” Jelena yells from the bedroom.

I quietly sigh in agreement, staring at the beading water on the white bath tile as if artificial rain would offer any resolution. What the fuck did I get myself into? I ponder achingly. I continue to wash the sex off.

Continue reading The Bartender, The Waitress and The Dancer: Chapter I of II

Raising Wisconsin

Today, a friendly couple from Wisconsin approached me and asked the common questions from Hawaii vacationers.  How do I get here?  Where is a great place to eat?  What language are you speaking?  The question that made the highlight reel was when the adorable Wisconsin lass asked where can she see a Ninny.  What she meant to say was Nene, pronounced ney-ney, as in Hawaii’s state bird.

I get sideswiped by similar questions a lot, and are usually followed by silence and three seconds of awkward eye contact.  The first of three seconds, I’m thinking what the hell is Ninny.  She’s thinking, I hope I get to see a Ninny.  The second following the first, I’m thinking I am missing information that I should know, like seriously what the hell is a Ninny?  She’s thinking, maybe I should ask someone else because it’s been two seconds without a response.  The final second, I’m thinking that I need a haircut and the burger I just ate was over 550 calories.  Also, she probably meant Nene, and is mispronouncing it as a Wisconsinan would most likely do.   She’s thinking, one more second of this shit and the world is going to explode.

Fortunately the world didn’t explode but my brain almost did.  Googling every brain cell in a fraction of second and attempting to withdraw the context of her question, cost me every calorie of that juicy burger.  We enjoyed a great conversation after the Ninny Nene debacle was resolved and the womans flushed cheeks quickly dissipated with laughter.  I became engaged in how Wisconsinans tolerate below freezing temperature.  The type of game they hunt.  Daily routines.  Avoiding wolves.  And vice versa.  Yeah, we don’t have to worry about the alpha, omega and everything in between trying to rip us to shreds, I tell them.  But we do have mongoose, and If you don’t sleep with your hand down your pants, the mongoose will come and steal your nuts.

 

Hastily Proceeding and The Idiots Stone

I exhaled holy shit as a cloud of drones erupt and swarms toward our direction.  The hive that dangled off a tree, now a remnant pile on the bottom of the gulch.  Randall ran yelling, I think I have one in my shirt. Fuck I do! Brah, i think it’s on your neck, I reply trying to keep up with Randalls pace. Shit they’re everywhere, Tony screams behind me. We hastily scramble up the embankment of the gulch and into a backyard.  I yell at my two friends scurrying behind a derelict house, Hurry up and find the hose!

I slap myself silly attempting to shoo bees away from my face and spontaneously breaking into  interpretative dance. Randall now shirtless, frantically tries to find the end of a coiled up garden hose with his mouth closed and lips tucked in, hoping to avoid a former traumatic fat lip incident. Tony, busy defending the onslaught with one hand while the other hand turns the spigot.  Picture Three Stooges doing an Abbott and Costello routine while Benny Hills intro plays in the background. With a bit of stinging profanities whizzing by, Tony gets the water running. Randall gasps for a breath of air as jets of water spray around us.  I stop wishing for time to rewind five minutes and check my baseball cap that had slipped my mind during the chaos. Wow, a bee without its stinger. My forehead begins to hurt but is quickly subdued by the infectious laughter of three idiots.

I was the expert of adding salt to a wound but if shit ever hit the fan, I would somehow end up as the fan.

Continue reading Hastily Proceeding and The Idiots Stone