party: we’d like a round of vodka cran and some soybeans
waitress: okay. do you want garlic or just regular salt?
party: yeah, you can put garlic salt.
It really isn’t a great idea to start the day, bitching and whining about irritants. But like doing PC housekeeping, stripping off old wax, or taking out the trash, it needs to be done. Everyone has pet peeves. These are some of mine…
BIPOLAR STALKERS: Stalkers are so much fun to have. They adorn me with tons of attention. They’re harmless and mostly lurk in the shadowy parts of Facebook. But when interaction switches gears from Hi, Hello, Love you, I want your baby, To Why the fuck are you not calling back, where the fuck are you, Wah Wah Wah!! Then they become a little too much Courtney Love for me to handle.
STUPID PEOPLE: Maybe this should have been first. I know a lot of you probably have this on the top of their pet peeve list. Last night, I encountered someone who spelled friend, f r e i n d. Twice. Always, a l l w a y s. Dude, one L is enough okay. Fuel, fule and using “know” in ways the word “no”, is correct English grammar. Sorry, you don’t get points for pronunciation. And “a lot” is two words. It drives me nuts to see a bunch of thirty somethings who continuously use “alot”. Alot of bacon. Alot of waves. Alot of red lines under the the fricken ALOT word!!
GOING 35MPH IN THE LEFT LANE: Do I need to say more?
DROWNING TOURISTS: Yeah sad, but these malahini make our County Lifeguards work. If I was Lifeguard, I would be kicking back and spocking the betties all freeking day. But when monkeys who don’t understand the “rip tide”, swim against the current and get all fuck up. Then the Hollywood slow motion run, from the tower to water, kicks in. You gotta stick out the pectorals, cleave if wahine lifeguard and do the dramatic dive in the ocean, slowly so the camera doesn’t miss a bounce. By then, the buggah drownded. At least i would get a tan, from the thirty minute run from tower to water.
If I ever see someone waving hands and arms frantically in the ocean, I’m gonna wave back.
5:30pm. Courts, Ala Moana. A town break, known for its quick pitching face and high speed “rights”. Another Honolulu afternoon begins its farewells. Sky, orange. The typical baby blue now shunned by the distant setting sun. The ocean, now a deep bluish-green. Tinted with mirrored images of orange clouds.
Last wave in. I’m pau…
Rewind. 2:30pm. Another gorgeous day in Hawaii. Time to catch the few remaining waves of the dying south swell. I take a quick spin through the park. Oogling over the bettys working on their tans. I parallel
park my shit mobile. Wax up the board. Give the quick head jolt and throw a lazy shaka to the uncles next to me. They head jolt me back. But too lazy to put down their green bottles for a return shaka. Minors. They’ve refined the art of enjoying the afternoon in the city. Cooler. Beer. Beach. Laughter. Simplicity at it’s finest.
There’s not much to do while waiting in between sets. I stare at the postcard image of Diamond Head. It stares back but says nothing. I take a dive to cool off from the blazing Hawaiian sun. Going as deep as I can before equalizing. Look, a kala.! There IS fish on Oahu. A lung full of air I breath, as I surface facing the city. A rainbow, sitting pretty in the valley of Manoa. Reflections of other reflections off the twenty story glass pane monstrosities. Blue Hawaiian Chopper tours whizzes by. A honu comes up for air as well. Boring. Enough with writing poetry in my head. Send some damn waves already.
I surf the afternoon away, building up an appetite. Almost evening. Last wave in. Im pau…
Set comes. I huli my 10’0″ and face it to Manoa Valleys rainbow. Paddle. Drop in. Bottom turn. 10 foot shark. A beauty of a fish. Dark grayish brown back. Head, twice the size of mine. But seriously, why the fuck you gotta swim on the same wave as me Mr. Shark. I don’t like to share. But there he was. As long as my ten foot tanker. I almost jumped off my board because of his proximity. He could of held my right side rail with his fin if he wanted to. But that would be asinine if I did. Because, in the water, is last place I want to be. Out of fear, I turn over control of my body to my brain. HOLY SHIT SHARK!! is what comes out of my mouth. My left hand, uncontrollably imitates a shark fin and rests itself on the top of my head. More profanities are being spit out. I’m rusty on Jesus Christ moves, so the whole walk on water miracle wasn’t going to happen. I surf straight in. Fuck the cutbacks and nose rides. No tricks on this wave. My Japanese eyes aren’t Japanese anymore. It transforms into menpachi eyes. I didn’t know my asian eyes could stretch that much. My body glues itself to the board. I surf past a stand up paddler. He chuckles and smiles, asking, “What, you seen one shark?” I point behind me with my unused hand, dropping more F bombs. “He fucking right there!” “Fucking huge!” It was a lie, of course. I didn’t know where the shark went. I didn’t want to look.
Finally reach shore. Safe. Laugh. Thinking, oh my god, I must’ve looked like a fool. Imagining the other surfers out there witnessing my reactions and what they must be thinking. “How’s this moron coming down the wave, with severe tourettes and his shark fin hand on his head?” I learned something about myself. My vulgarity levels multiply and when scared shit less, I become a master at Charades. Other than that, it was the the most exciting “last wave” in my life.
I ironically cook fish for dinner, in tribute of the close encounter. Resembling the moment that I was almost fish food. Tomorrow, surf. This time I’ll bring a bucket. If this shit happens again, at least I’ll have something to carry all the bricks that I’ll shit out.
Recently, my Facebook page has been acting weird, giving me a headache. Loading half-ass, stupid grey box doesn’t go away after I poke someone, and trouble commenting on and publishing updates. Which may be a good thing. In my search through Google, tech forums, and countless blogs, I came across a few interesting articles. So interesting, they totally distracted me from seeking the answers I was looking for.
This quick Q&A interview with a Facebook Psychologist…who would of thought there was one…captured
my attention because his beliefs, reaffirmed most of mine. The following is easier to understand if you read the Q&A blog post.
We are still yet in the infant stages of social networking. Sure, myspace was around before fb, but where myspace failed, fb succeeded and continues to define how social networking came to be. Did you know fb has over 400mill users and is worth over $10bill? This craziness is in different countries too. Instead in the Philippines, they log into Facebookbook. My continuous journey through the mecca of social networking began with much observation. I began with asking myself many “WHY” questions, as I noticed consistencies in what people share. To have my brain work more efficiently, I mentally grouped most people based on what they post.
Persistent Application Updaters. aka, P.A.U. This group, specializes in letting the world know how they feel through facebook applications. Persistently. Granted, some apps are advantageous by being shared. i.e. Mafia Wars and Castle Age, where gamers seek help from teammates. None the less, majority of their updates are app related. Write nothing, app everything. All pau. My thoughts of P.A.U are here.
Consistent Updating Neurotic Trademark Symptoms aka C.U.N.T.S. People in this group treat their fb account as if it was Twitter and everyone else are their followers. I had a friend who was the inspiration for this category. No joke, she posted every 5 min. By the end of the day, my news feed was littered with just her posts. e.g.”____is uploading photos to computer!” 5min later…”____is waiting for photos to upload!” 5min later…”____ is still waiting for photos to upload!” Fucking shoot me. But C.U.N.T.S. are simply striving for attention. I complied by commenting “take your head out of your lap.” after she posted ” something smells dead!!” I never got a thank you.
Drama Obtuse Updaters Casually Happy Enthusiasts aka D.O.U.C.H.E. Similar to C.U.N.T.S., members of this group yearn for attention. They go about it by sharing cryptic melodramatic sayings. I don’t know about you guys, but the only time I listen to anything melancholy, is through Alanis Morissettes lyrics. She makes listening to hate, catchy and sing-alongable. Because I got one hand in my pocket, and the other ones giving you a high five…to your face. More about D.O.U.C.H.E.s here.
People post what they post because of how they perceive themselves and how they want others to perceive them. Regardless of group type. There are no pros and cons of being a particular group. Simply, it is a way I mentally organize what I read. It is mere coincidence that these acronyms seem familiar to words in our slang vocabulary. I’m not smart or clever enough to make these up. Having categorized my network, it frees up time to spend on people I want to converse with and eliminates the need to tend to members of P.A.U., D.O.U.C.H.E or C.U.N.T.S. Of course there are many who don’t belong in any of these groups. People of inspiration, humor, and sensitivity. I’ts an unnamed category because fb is ever changing. And so are it’s users.
February 27, 2010, Saturday morning 7:45 am. My cell phone is buzzing from a recent message. In white colored font with dark blue background, it reads…Kipp, tsunami warning. turn on the news.
It takes a while for both eyes to open in the a.m. One eye slowly opens and the other plays catch up for the next five minutes. This day was the complete opposite. Jolting out of bed, I quickly turned the tv on to unknowingly begin, the waste of a picture perfect day in Hawaii. In other words, I could have gone surfing.
Like everyone else, I began to do what everybody does when they hear news of an impending tsunami. Call the ‘ohana. Actually, it was log into facebook first. I had to verify this nonsense on our local media. Because if you read it in the facebook newsfeed, then it’s real.
Now verified, most of us are now in a heightened sense of alertness. It’s like a rush of adrenaline pumping through your body. Larry and Price never sounded so serious. Justin Fujiokas words were godly and ten commandments-ish. Pamela Young never looked so….young. Yet, there were other inhabitants that surpassed this level of hysteria and were in a whole different ballgame. These people…went to fill gas. Go shopping at safeway and longs. Or go so high up mauka, they would make you believe a Deep Impact wave is about to hit. You know, the movie with Morgan Freeman and that damn Hobbit. Good movie. But not real.
11:04am. The time Mr. Tsunami arrives in Oahu. Supposedly. All eyes were on Hilo. Ears too. I watched and listened to Kirk Matthews interview Bj Penn as they fed live video from his website. Why? Because this is the best our local media could do at the moment. Seriously. Bjs an awesome fighter, but tsunami expert? No. They could have put a live shot of some reporter interviewing a tsunami expert at Hilo bay. Better yet, a camera on top one of the Hotels near Hilo Bay. I remember at the end of each news broadcast they would say….and transmitting atop the Naniloa Hotel overlooking Hilo Bay. Why don’t they have a fucking camera to transmit with that transmitter?
Well, should’ve could’ve would’ve. All they had was shabby quality skype video. Kirk Matthews described to the viewers, that skype is an internet phone. That’s what happens when you put the words, internet and phone, together. Skype. New age shit for people like my dad, who describes the motorola cell phone as “blueberry”.
11:04am. Came. Went. Hungry. Good thing I went fill gas so I could drive around the island and grab food 48 miles away. Yes, I’m mocking the gas tank fillers. I’m sitting in the middle of my living room. Tv/facebook in front. Radio and view to the ocean on my right. My longboard resting behind me, saying shit like, “you’re a dumbass, you could be catching this off season south swell. But no, you have be like everybody else and jump on the horseshit media blitz bandwagon. You rather fill this desire to be “connected” and read updates of how brown the water is turning in hilo bay. Wax me up. Lets go fool.”
Lessened learned. In a state of panic, inanimate objects begin to speak to you.
Pamela Young says, “just stay tuned…we’re not out of the woods yet. It may be an hour or more until we see any affect.” An hour or more?! Dude, I fricken bought the ticket for the 11:04am showing. If the movie is a no go, then i want a refund. Why you say 11:04am in the first place Pammy? Next time, be like Oceanic Cable and say, we’ll have a technician come to your home between 8am and 5pm. I fucking hate them.
In all seriousness, a tsunami is no laughing matter. Hilo bayfront knows this. The state knows this. That’s why our governor says things like, we’ve definitely dodged a bullet. My ass, dodged a bullet. Lets thank our local media for fertilizing and injecting steroids into the bullet itself. Think of when you were a kid and you and all your friends would go to the pool. Everybody, had that fatty friend in the group where after he/she would jump into the pool, the crowd would all simultaneously yell, TSUNAMI!! Yup, thats what happened on the morning of February 27, 2010. With civil defense sirens, skype lessons, and an interview with a mixed martial arts fighter. I still want my refund.
Have you every noticed how fast technology is advancing? It may be faster than Clark Kent trying to find the shitter. With the recent launch of Apples iPad, I felt compelled to spit out more comical bullshit through the topic of tech.
During my final years of High School, we juveniles were strapped on digital devices. On top of that, the ones we had at the time were pieces of shit, compared to today’s standards. If you remember paging 07734 or 23778008 and turning it upside down or lugging the ten pound green screen gameboy with the overheating battery pack attached to your hip, then you can relate.
In the subject of music, we were on the cusp of the CD media transition. Which meant half of your audio library was cassette and the other, CDs. And forget the portable cd player. Any bump, jolt or whatever synonym to “hit” you want to use, would send you to the beginning of a track. Which made it more stationary than portable. You know there’s only so many repeats of Funky Y2C or Whoomp There It Is, you can take before the twitching begins. (YouTube it both, it’s there).
Before I overly dwell in nostalgia bliss, the road of technology seems smoothly paved and my eyes are transfixed on the upcoming bends. I think just being able to carry around a cell phone is just the coolest shit ever. Sure, mobile phones were around decades ago but many of us did not shell out a G for something the size of your arm.
Look at where we are today. iPhone wise. Check e-mail, mock people on fB, play words with friends, mock more people on fB, check surf-report (Skull Candy, great app btw), reply to IMs, reply to people on fB who don’t like the mocking….well, infinite list obviously. Even typing this note. Oh, and making a call once in a while. Top it off with the big daddy iPad and the godly Steve Jobs gives us a great glimpse into what is possible.
3D flat screens are already hitting the market. Like the cassette/CD transition, familiarity with new technology is often rough and possibly embarrassing. Imagine obliviously walking out of the house still wearing the 3D glasses. Or getting up to answer the door, in the middle of Avatar, with the huge red and blue focals masking half your face. Yup, im calling it. But possible akward situations, can’t top three dimensional titties flying at your face (My Bloody Valentine 3D). Best movie ever. Nah, not really. More like, Im not that into half naked blue Na’vi.
Mobile three dimensional touch screen Facebooking. With occasional titty. Sign me up.