Hawaiian Adventure: Entertainment, Excursion and Examples of Bad Behavior

If you wish to read the first installment of this series, regarding our trip to Hawaii, click here.  If you wish to read the second installment, click here.  If you've already read both of them, you are a good citizen, worthy of food and drink and mild entertainment.  If you didn't read either, I'm sorry but you'll be going to hell, where you'll be stabbed, repeatedly, in the genitals.  Good day!

There was plenty of entertainment aboard our cruise ship, Pride of America.  I think, on this cruise ship/island adventure, compared to our other one, two years ago, we saw more stage shows.  I enjoyed them, honestly, except for the fact that my wife, who I dearly love, insisted that we sit in either the first or second rows of the theater to "get a better view."

Now the problem with sitting in the first couple of rows during these stage shows is that you are risking getting picked out to participate in some of the entertainment provided.  You could find yourself involved, such as I witnessed of other passengers, in part of a comedian's act where he or she makes you look like an endearing dumbass, of sorts, or you could get almost literally pulled in, off your seat, by some muscular male Hawaiian dancers to dance with them or the Hula girls, on the stage, in front of hundreds of strangers who were delighted and relieved to be sitting away from the front of the stage.  Being a shy and modest guy, I didn't want to participate and at almost every show, there would always be a performer wanting me to participate.  I would always wave them away or kick the air towards them, saying "NO!  NO!  NO!", but they would persist.  I guess I just looked like that type of guy who would be great living material for their act.  A natural fool who would cause the audience to laugh until they pissed themselves silly.

Notice that they are sticking their tongues out.  One of the narrators and dancers said this was the way ancient Hawaiian warriors greeted and welcomed each other back in those ancient days.  Either this is true or they're just showing contempt for the U.S. for taking over their land.  Nahhhhh. 

Holy buhjesus!  I do enough crazy stuff in front of friends at parties when I'm drunk enough.

Gratefully, they would take the hint, after several attempts to get me on the stage and coerce some other poor bastard to "join in the fun."  Hell, I came to be entertained, after all, goddammit.  Not be part of the entertainment.

The food on board the ship was pretty good at the buffet.  Some of it, however, was a weird mix of cultural food dishes.  I think they were sort of trying to please everyone that came from different countries around the world.  That meant you would see a Chinese/American/Russian combination or something else that was bizarre that you could stare at for hours and never quite make out what was in it, exactly.   We often went to the Aloha Cafe, which was a buffet where you could eat and eat until you puked- which I did- but it wasn't because I ate too much.  I'll explain:  When I eat too fast or I don't chew everything down into itsy bitsy molecules, I tend to easily get food stuck down my throat.  And then, embarrassingly enough in restaurants, my breathing ability ceases and my face turns blueish and I have to make a mad dash to the bathroom so I can stick my fingers down my throat to get the food out.  And no, more to drink to get the food down never works for me.  Believe me!  I've tried thousands of times.

In any case, one morning while we were eating breakfast at the buffet, I'm trying to quickly eat an omelet, to widen my throat a bit, in order to swallow my six different medications I take every morning.  Unfortunately, a chunk of ham gets caught in my throat.  My wife is away from the table, up at the buffet, somewhere.  Of course, I start my ol' "I can't fucking breathe" routine and I try to make it to the bathroom on this huge ship.  Remember: I'm halfway crippled because of the problems with my feet.  So, there I go, hobbling and desperately trying to make it to the bathroom with food kinda going up and the back down my throat while I sweat, profusely and turn blue.  When I finally make it to the bathroom, I find that it's locked and occupied and then I suddenly vomit, right on the spot.  I violently puke with my hands over my mouth, trying to keep the vomit from going to where it ended up- on the carpeted floor, in front of the bathroom.  Hooray!  Here's a picture.  Luckily, my camera was in my pocket.

Sadly, you cannot see any chunks of ham from my omelet.  Congrats to me for actually digesting some part of my breakfast.  Man, look at all the halfway digested eggs and cheese!

  

I wonder if that piggy is still alive or maybe just resting comfortably with an apple in his mouth.

We went to a luau on the island of Kuaui and that was entertaining.  Free booze, a train ride through the old sugar plantations, native Hawaiians making stuff to sell to tourists, Hula and fire dancers, lots of stage performances and an all you can eat buffet.  Check out the video, below.



I had five margaritas that night (they would make any kind of mixed drink you wanted) and my arm was getting kinda tired so you'll have to forgive the "shakiness" of the camera. This video is kinda long but it's entertaining.  The entire stage show was really long and absorbing, truthfully.  Very entertaining.  Especially when one of the fire dancers dropped his fire sticks a couple of times, which you'll get to see on this video.  I was hoping one of the guests would go up in flames but I don't think it happened.  I only captured the last eight minutes of the performance on camera. You may want to "full screen" the video to get a decent view.  Maybe not.  They are doing a play or story about a couple, in ancient Hawaiian days, who want to get hitched, so to speak, but the chieftain father of the bride to be doesn't want it to happen.  The end to this play/performance really made me believe I had ingested some magic mushrooms off the buffet, by mistake.

Hawaiian  artist dude carving out a wooden fish of some sorts.  I didn't bother him.  I was afraid he might use that pointy thing on my leg or nutsack.

We went to a lot of shops on all five of the islands we explored and bought a lot of souvenirs for friends, family and ourselves, of course.  I bought a tiki, for example, made out of milo wood, that represented a god that gave you strength, guidance and family protection.  I bought it and talked to the local artist and shop owners, most of which were native Hawaiians and they were very friendly.  We talked a lot about their crafts and the history of Hawaii.

I talked to the owner and artist of this gallery and shop on the island of Kona.  She wasn't a native Hawaiian but she was interesting and incredibly talented.  You can see more of her artwork below.

This is where I bought my tiki.

This is the wife and I, standing in front of a hundred year old tree, in Kona square.

Every day, the maids would come into your cabin, while you were gone and make different animals, just like the previous cruise ship we were on, Freedom of the Seas.  These animals, which to me, were works of art and made completely out of towels.  One day, you would see a lobster on your bed, the next day, perhaps a dog or a swan and so on.  Below, you'll see me celebrating the fine work these maids do in creating these masterpieces.

Humping a towel bunny and holding onto it's ears so it can't get away.  I think I "orgasmed."  Is that a word?

This is the Na Pali coast.  It is truly beautiful and has a mystical quality to it's landscape.  Beneath the picture, you'll find a video of our ship, passing by it.  There was a lot of wind that day- so you'll hear a lot of that.  This video is pretty short, too.

This is one of the last big events we experienced on our week long cruise.

We had a long layover at the Honolulu airport at the end of our Hawaiian experience.  This really didn't bother me.  They had plenty of things to look at, such as displays that contained Hawaiian history, various paintings, cool shops and more.  Naturally, I explored.

We had a great time during our Hawaiian adventure.  I hope you enjoyed this last installment of the series.  Aloha and mahalo, everyone!

Hawaiian Adventure: Geothermal Pools, Nuts and Deck Shots

This is the second part of an ongoing series of posts, regarding our trip to the Hawaiian islands.  Click here for the first part.  We took a 7 day cruise, during the last week of September and the first week of October of 2012.  Our first day and night, before the cruise, we stayed at the Marriott hotel in Honolulu.

The Pride of America cruisehip

And no, the last part of the title to this post should not be read as "nuts and dick shots."  I just want to clear that up, right away.  In fact, if you keep reading the post and checking out the pics, you might see puffy goat vaginae and exceedingly horny lesbian handmaidens, left alone on the farm so long, that they naturally held Goat Clitoris Licking contests to see who would win the BIG PRIZE.  The prize would usually be a fresh, slippery tongue, cut away from an annoying old cow, the human type or animal.

That's why you don't hear much from Rosie O' Donnell these days.

One of the most thrilling and educational parts of our cruise to the five Hawaiian islands of O'ahu, Maui, Hilo, Kona, and Kaua'i was the excursion in Hilo.

In Hilo, we chose the Hawaiian Explorer excursion.  We figured we could get the biggest bang for our buck because it actually included three events in one during the course of a six hour period.  First, our shuttle bus driver, who had a very dry sense of humor, took us to Pana`ewa Rainforest Zoo and Botanical Gardens, America's only rainforest zoo, in fact.

Trees at the Botanical Gardens, mostly destroyed by lava and encased in lava rock.  And you thought the fucked up tree  on the right was a Rock Giant's dick?  What the hell have you been smokin'?

While it's true you'll see over 100 varieties of palms, native and introduced plants, you'll also want to be careful not to accidentally go off the paved provided trails and fall down into a giant crack in the Earth.  There are signs, all around the area, that say you shouldn't do that.  They didn't say the giant cracks and holes led to Hell, exactly, but I did see Hitler, fuher of Germany's Third Reich, poke his head up from the biggest, seemingly bottomless opening, wiggling his nose a bit, while happily chewing the dismembered arm of Idi Amin.

Ol' Idi could be heard screaming, down below.

Hitler stopped, momentarily and said, "I can't wait for Mitt Romney to join our party in Hell.  I've never eaten a Mormon before.  I wonder if they're as tangy as Catholics."  After that, he went back down into the tremendous hole, spiraling downward like a screw being driven into wood.  I heard Idi scream again, seconds afterwards, shouting, "Now I got you sucka!"

Then I let go of the cool looking mushroom I had picked up and moved on.

All the passengers from the comfortable air conditioned bus were treated to scenes of all types of wild looking, beautiful flora and fauna.  The trees, that had been partially eaten away and covered by hardened lava were spectacular.  There were a lot of them.  A guide mentioned that volcanoes had erupted in the late 1700's and the lava had risen twelve feet high in the area where the zoo is located.  The lava ate away a lot of the trees and all of the plants, creating, as a result, deformed, rock-like encasing of trees and plants growing out of little lava rock mounds.

Don't fall into a crack in the earth!  You'll go to hell, get eaten by Hitler and strapped to a chair where you'll continuously view movies of Rosie O' Donnell licking a goat's clit.  Where they got those movies is a true mystery.  If you solve it, you may win the BIG PRIZE!

It was bizarre and fun at the zoo.  It wasn't too long of a walk and there were wooden shelters you could stop, sit and rest if you wanted.  But I couldn't.  Being the"nature boy" that I am, I was almost manic with delight at my surroundings. I was running around like a chicken with his head cut off, (because a lot of Hawaiian people don't like chickens, as I pointed out in the first part of this series, that very idea excites them more than seeing Rosie O' Donnell's angry red clit) and taking pictures of everything while my poor wife trailed along behind me, at times, trying to keep up.  I felt bad that I left her stranded, sometimes, so would hobble back to her and ask her if she was okay.

She didn't complain and let me go off like a kid in a candy shop, snapping pics of this flower or this tree or whatever.  I found that I would pay for it later during the excursion.

Do you like my groovy outfit?  Great combination of tops and bottoms, eh?  I can't explain the shirt but I was wearing the swim trunks because I knew we were going to go swimming and wading into a large pond that was heated up by a nearby volcano, later, during the excursion.

I think she was more impressed with the animals.  Although, one of the main reasons we went on this excursion, to see the White Bengal tiger, Namaste, couldn't be accomplished.  The tiger was in the animal infirmary and could not be shown.  He had broken his leg the week before.  Even so, the staff at the zoo, made a birthday sign and put it outside the fence of the area where he would have been seen if he was uninjured.  It was a let down because he was hurt and, also, because we didn't get to see him but I understood.  I thought it was nice of the staff to create this sign even though Namaste the Tiger probably couldn't read it.  Maybe they gave him a million dollar robotic leg for his birthday.

A lot of people, wishing Namaste well and so forth, signed this.  I'm not sure but I think all the red that you see below the tiger's neck is actually the blood of one of the zookeepers.  Happy birthday, Namaste! 

They had other animals and birds there, such as lemurs, parrots, Capauchin monkeys and more.  Like I said in the previous post, I took somewhere between 500 to 600 pictures during the entire 8 day trip and 14 movie clips (some as long as eight and a half minutes in duration).  You or really, anyone else could say I went a little overboard but I highly doubt we'll ever be able to go on another trip to Hawaii and I wanted to capture as many memories that I could.  Besides, I come from a family of amateur photographers.  My mom, at one time, had close to fifty photo albums.  They would be filled with our trips out west to Wyoming or south to Florida or west, again, to Arizona, to name only a few, not to mention everyone's birthdays and family gatherings.

Next, our laid back shuttle bus driver, who at one point joked that if anyone could pronounce his native Hawaiian name, correctly, would win a prize, took us to the Mauna Loa Nut Factory.

This is where my wife got her revenge for me leaving her behind on the trail, at times.

On a self-guided tour, you could walk up the steps of the processing plant to see how they get the nuts prepared for public consumption.  Usually, I just shave mine.  But be warned:  It is not for public or private consumption.  I'm too ticklish for that nonsense.

We left some product for the rest of the passengers on the shuttle bus to purchase and enjoy.  Yes, we both wore tie dye shirts that day.  Call us nuts if you want.

Our shuttle bus driver explained, on the way there, that the workers/gatherers of the nuts had to be careful when picking a good or bad nut, proceeding to de-shell it and put them in a container that was later loaded on a truck.

We passed Macadamia nut trees and huge areas of hardened lava rock, scattered about, along the narrow road.  As I pointed out before, most of the roads are partially made from hardened lava rock.  If you click on the link above, you can read the story of how the Macadamia nut tree actually originated in Australia and was introduced to Hawaii in 1882.

After my wife and I quickly toured the processing plant, we made a bee line to the big gift shop.

I said, "Let's go!  I hear they're giving out free samples and they have Macadamia nut and coconut flavored ice cream!"

This is where she bought out almost half the store.  We bought 6 different flavored Macadamia nuts, various bags of Hawaiian coffee, souvenirs and the ice cream- that we ate at the provided tables and chairs.  When we got up to the counter, I couldn't believe how much stuff we got and how much we spent.  But like I was saying before, and my wife looked at me and repeated, at that point, "We should get this stuff now because when do you think we'll ever get to Hawaii again."

Ah-Ha!  Revenge complete!

The highlight of the excursion for me, besides the zoo, was going to the Ahalanui Park.  There, you could wade and float about in this substantially sized, natural geothermal pool that was heated to a relaxing 90 degrees F. by a nearby volcano. Heat would come out of the hardened lava walls, from holes, surrounding the pond.  Most people visiting, got in.  I did, despite the signs that were posted on the path going toward the pool.

One sign cautioned about it not being advisable to go into the pond if you had any cuts on your body- due to the bacteria in the water possibly infecting you.  Another warned you about eels and flesh biting fish.  Another sign would warn you about deep cracks at the bottom of the pool.

I couldn't care less about any of it.  I was going in.  I felt like I was bursting with enthusiasm, eager for adventure.  To hell with any danger!

I slowly made my way into the pond.  There was only one metal handrail and a few lava rock stones you could use for steps at the entrance of it.  Or you could just jump in, cannonball style and let the bacteria, eels and tiny skin-biting fish have a go at you, all at once.  What fun!

The water was clear, warm and inviting.

There was an older guy, there, in his late sixties.  His name was Nova (like the show on the PBS station).  He stayed kinda close, at times, toward the entrance.  He was funny, always cracking jokes and he made friends with me, and eventually, my wife, who joined me later and discovered I wasn't being killed devoured, felt welcome and he sort of escorted us around.

We were surprised to find out Nova was from the original state where we lived.  He had lived in Hawaii the last twenty years.  I think he gave us preferential treatment because we were from his home state.  He guided us to the ledge of the wall where we could feel the heat coming from the hardened lava walls and it's many holes.  The tiny flesh biting fish were only an inch long and when they nibbled on ONLY your dead skin (mostly your heels), they sort of tickled you.  They didn't pose a danger and I've heard of spas in Japan using fish like this or these exact same fish to act as a natural exfoliant to remove dead skin cells.  In other words, they didn't matter to me or my wife.  Nova said if they started to tickle you too much, to just wave your arms around you and they would swim away for awhile before coming back to gently feed off of you.  :)

By the way, nobody saw any eels and Nova said that out of all the times he had visited the big geothermal pool, he had only seen a few of them but they didn't bother him or anyone else he knew about.  Maybe they were afraid of his beard.

This is Nova, an unofficial, friendly greeter of the geothermal pool we experienced.  I liked this guy.  He was humorous, informative and helped me go around this boulder in the pool without breaking open my knee cap on it, tearing open my flesh and possibly exposing myself to some kind of bacteria.  He had that old hippie look to him and he was one of the nicest guys I've ever met.

On the other end of the pool, you could see the ocean, quite visibly.  There was a boundary of lava rock wall, separating the ocean and the pond.  I took several pictures along this area.

After the Hilo island excursion, we were slightly exhausted by the time we made it back to our ship.  It was a long, rewarding day.  We rested a bit before eating a meal at the Aloha Cafe, on board the cruise ship.  You could eat, almost non-stop, at the buffet, if that were your desire.  You could eat until you bloat yourself to whale sized proportions if that's how you got your kicks.  Some people, I noticed, did that.

I was satisfied with usually eating just four meals a day and a couple of snacks you would take from the buffet back to your cabin.  lol.  Again, some folks like us, would take entire platefuls of cookies and fruit or whatever you had an appetite for, to munch on before going to bed or to eat with taking your medication.

That's how we did it, anyway.

Here's a few shots of the outside of the decks of the cruise ship:

Do you see the rainbow?  It's not because of the magical mushroom you may or may not have taken, I can assure you.  I loved this shot.

The guy standing in front of the gigantic chess board and pieces might be thinking he's hallucinating.  I'm not going to tell him differently.

The pool area, at night.  I was peepin' in at a couple at one of the hot tubs.  :)

That's all for now, folks.  Hope you're enjoying the tours, thus far.    

Hawaiian Adventure: Evening Sky and Oddities Found in Hawaii

Hey there, everyone!

Remember me?  Yeah, it's been awhile.  I was absent from the world of blogging because my wife and I were on a cruise in Hawaii from the 29th of September through October 6th.  I've been recuperating and getting things back in order ever since.

The first day and night was, during our adventure, September 28th, and all about flying for 10 hours on two different flights to Hawaii and staying at the Marriott Hotel in Honolulu.  Our first flight was from Cincinnati.  The flights going to Hawaii weren't as bad as I thought they were going to be.  I watched two and a half movies on the biggest plane that had seven seats going across each row (one of them was Prometheus- which I liked) while my wife read a book on Steven Tyler.  The 2nd plane, on our second flight we had to take, was in Utah.  The Salt Lake City airport is tiny compared to the airports in Honolulu and Cincinnati, where we joyously we ended up, with only a little turbulence, experienced, during the long flights.

The Marriott Hotel offered us some great views of Waikiki beach in Honolulu.  We stayed there our first day and night before boarding our cruise ship, Pride of America, the next day. Staying at this 4 star hotel on the 19th floor gave us a breather and a chance to look around Honolulu before we started our 7 day cruise, the next day.  There was an incredible 33 floors to this hotel.  It was pretty friggin' big but some buildings in Honolulu stood taller.

Honolulu is a very busy place with a lot to see.  Tattoo parlors, bars, malls, small mom and pop stores, crazy traffic, a melting pot of people, surfers carrying surfboards and a beach that makes you feel as if you're dreaming.  My wife and I loved it.

We took walks along Waikiki beach, enjoying the water and talking to people and being invigorated by the beautiful scenery.

We had an awesome, entertaining time on our cruise and on five different islands in Hawaii.  I will be doing a series of posts of our time spent in Hawaii and on our cruise ship.  Events and places I write about won't be in any particular order.  I'll just be talking about this or that.  I'll be mixing it up and going crazy with it.  Lol.

Note:  I spent my birthday in Hawaii, during our cruise and island time.  How cool and great is that for a gift?

I'd like to show you this poem.  I wrote this during our time spent at the airport, in Honolulu, before coming back home.  I was almost completely exhausted, beyond repair, when I wrote this, but I was inspired by a particular picture I took during our cruise.  I took it as I stood on our balcony, outside our stateroom cabin on the ship.  I felt at such magnificent peace.

This poem is called "Evening Sky"

EVENING SKY

Hello
Goodbye
I say to the evening sky
Tomorrow will come
With what it decides

Some will make what
Seems to be mistakes
While others will see and take lessons
That they might embrace

I see and feel the peace that affects anyone of us
The Hawaiian atmosphere offers locales, beauty and kind people
You can't help but feel blessed

Walk
Run
Or be still

Take in the nature
That surrounds you in joyous or troubled times
Embrace the peace that takes care of you
While you stand, walk, run or hide
For a time

Meanwhile, say hello and goodbye
To that unbiased night sky
Tomorrow still comes
As you let those thoughts fly

I took this shot while standing on the top deck of our cruise ship

Going over the mountains to land in Salt Lake City

Taken from our room at the Marriott hotel in Honolulu.  You can see the ocean and beach from where we stayed.

Waikiki beach, as evening comes

Oddity #1- While we were on one of the Hawaii islands, we found out that there were numerous locations where people were being overrun and annoyed by numerous random chickens and roosters and if you happened to run over one, you had to get out of your vehicle, pick up the chicken, barely alive or dead, to throw it away or eat it.  No joke.  We were told this by a native Hawaiian man.  It was a law or something.

Oddity #2- My wife and I, almost continuously, encountered an elderly couple, strangers, that actually lived a few small towns away from our own town, back home, in the mainland.  They were nice and we enjoyed talking to them.  We found it to be such a coincidence that we were staying at the same hotel, going on the same cruise and we had lived so close by to each other in our home state.  That's nearly 4,300 miles away.

Even on the last flight home, we bumped into them again.  His name was John and her name was Connie.  Sometimes we would help each other locate where we had to be or where we wanted to go on the island or on the cruise or at the hotel.  I think we gave each other a sense of comfort and a feeling of contentedness, knowing we were around, off and on, people that were from our home state.  They were likable, helpful, interesting, conversational neighbors during our entire adventure.

Oddity #3- We learned that a lot of their highways on the islands are made partially from lava rock that has been mixed with asphalt.  They make good use of any lava that erupts and pours from volcanoes to build roads, walls that separate the ocean at beaches or property of any kind.

The lava creates new land, in Hawaii, eventually, but it is also used to build roads and walls on many of the islands.

Oddity #4- The Hawaiian word, mahalo, means "thank you" in the English language.  a lot of people will say this word to you if they witness you doing something thoughtful or nice to them or for another reason.  If you mix up the letters of this word just a bit, you can get "malaho", which our native Hawaiian shuttle bus driver, said at one point, meant a male body part (a man's genitals).  I've tried looking this up on the internet, for the hell of it, but can't find it.  Maybe I don't have the exact spelling of it right but that's what he told us.

Probably just fucking around with the tourists that we all were- but it gave us a chuckle, anyway.  A lot of people laughed.  We found everyone, on any of the islands or on the cruise ship, itself, to be friendly.  We talked to people from all around the world.  There especially seemed to be a lot of folks from Australia, the UK or the continent of Asia.  We enjoyed conversing with them about almost anything and learning about their culture and what they were paying for gas for their cars these days.  :)

In conclusion, I don't know if the shuttle bus driver was yanking my 'malaho' or what- but he sternly warned us not to say that dirty word to anyone on the streets on any of the Hawaiian islands or you would get a dirty look.  And maybe even a punch to the nutsack or coochie.  He didn't say that last part but I thought I would, because I care about your safety if you should go to Hawaii for a visit.  :)

Say, "Mahalo, Kelly!"

I'll be continuing this series of blog posts about our time in Hawaii for a short time.  I have posted all the pictures I took (around 530 pics- yeah, I know- WOW, huh?) during our Hawaiian adventure on Facebook, if you're interested.  I will be posting, in the future, more Hawaiian pictures on this blog and on my photo blog, Pics for Kicks, when I have more time.

We're taking over this island.  If you wanna get past me, you're gonna have to kill me and eat my corpse, damn it!

I'll be checking out and commenting on your blogs when I get the time.  It seems my birthday of October 3rd is being celebrated, off and on, this month, with friends and family.  I'll also be spending time with the wife and I'm still trying to put things in order and working on getting things fixed that happened right before our trip. I couldn't do things before our trip because we were busy and financially strapped.  For one thing, we had to buy a new, used car.  The old car broke down for good.  That put a huge dent into our spending money for the trip.

Later, someone ran into the back of our newly purchased car two weeks later where my wife worked.  Nope... no one saw what happened and nope... there are no security cameras aimed at the employee parking lot (how convenient and stupid) and yes, our insurance company will pay for getting it worked on but we still have to pay a five hundred dollar deductible.  Please don't ask any questions about the damage to the "new" car.  I'd rather not talk about it.  It's a thorn in my side or in my mind, actually.

I have a lot of those, of course.  Most are caused by people.  God, I wish I was back in Hawaii, already.  :) I try to picture myself there, nowadays.

Well, guys, that's all I can stand to write- for now.  See ya later, folks!  More fun and craziness to come!

True Tales of Perfectly Normal Kelly

Disclaimer:  The following stories should be read as if they were written by someone completely sane, always politically correct and sensitive of others' feelings.  They, most importantly, were written by somebody with a sense of humor.  Scared?  Don't be!  I'm here to hold your hand as you take this special journey with me on my latest incidents of pure, wholesome normalcy.  I promise not to give you that special smile, while we walk, that says 'I won't bash your head in with this bronze statue of Zues fucking a dolphin while the dolphin is porking a young handjob-maiden', I have behind my back, when you turn head away, next.  You don't know how often you come across that common stylish item in those fancy antique stores, worldwide.  

 I farted.

But less importantly, I was taking my daily walk at the local park other day.  It was a beautiful day, full of sun and a plethora of blooming trees and there was no one there to possibly bother me.  Sure, I'm certainly a social butterfly that desperately needs adulation and continuous attention until I'm nauseous of the sticky slobbers of a googly-eyed stalker smooching on my ass because the stalker glorifies me... but sometimes, I just need some alone time.  Like about 80% of the time.

Actually... I don't know what these guys are and what they're thinking.  My  ambition to find out where they come from and so on has been replaced by sudden feelings of ambivalence.  Like, I don't know whether to bash this one dude's head in with a gargantuan frozen elephant turd or become inspired and secure, knowing that the human race will come together one day, not give a shit about material possessions and place honesty and understanding at the top of their priorities.   Again, I farted.

Note:  Googly-eyed fish will target and viciously attack your taint unless you have properly cleansed it to the point where it no longer carries the bouquet of aromas made up of shit, piss or pork.  Because, you know they say humans smell like pigs or whatever... especially while they're burning.  Look it up if you want to debate me about this most interesting of subjects while I busy myself with not being the least bit sarcastic.


Join Facebook!  See the attention craving, crack-like addicts who won't stop commenting about that same boring shit, day after day!  Watch people watch other people because they hear they are celebrities and that means something ridiculously important!  Ya ever see a dumbass follow a trend to be more popular?  Ya ever see a monkey picking a nit off another monkey in a zoo or while you're out on safari?  Ya ever witness the increasing lack of creativity and open mindedness of anyone or mass of "anyones?"  :)   People remind me of that stuff and more.  Think about it.  And yes, I already know why they, the monkeys, pick the nits.  But think about redundancy, for one thing.  Jesus Christ in a snack pudding offering soul-saving bargains!  Just think!

As I was taking my daily walk in the beautiful park, I cut a fart (go figure, huh?) and I squirt o' wee bit of shit in my underwear, of course.  I don't care.  As long as it's not running down my legs and causing a pond of chocolate delight around my feet, I continue onward to the bathroom.

I go in, clean the little bit of poop juice in my underwear, wipe the stuff from my asshole, place a small wad of toilet paper between the spots in the soiled fabric and my buttocks and when I get myself together again, shorts pulled up and so on, I wash my hands, thoroughly, go out the door and am automatically confronted with a large, six and a half foot tall guy, walking toward me, only a few feet away.  He's wearing about a 5X sized purple shirt, walking towards me like a zombie, arms stretched out, forward direction.

No kidding about any of this.

He makes sounds with his mouth.  I'm dazed by this sight, this giant monstrosity of flesh and insanity and my semi-severe anxiety disorder kicks in overdrive.  Momentarily, I cannot move.

It sounds like he's saying, "Arburgagog Goalpostical Blarrrrrrrgh!"  But I'm not sure.  I was frightened and in shock.  I just know he wasn't speaking English.  I also felt shit start to rumble in my colon again, threatening to erupt from ye ol' blow hole.  In other more sensitive wording. I figured I was about to have a repeat performance of the other fiasco I just endured.  This sudden attack, that would have probably scared the shit out of most anyone besides me, made my head spin, wondering what carnival freak show I suddenly happened upon.

 I saw a shirt this other day.  He might has well as worn this shirt:

      

I have since learned, by actually being curious enough to find out what Doma Arigato means, that one of it's meanings come from the language of the Japanese.  Domo Argato translates, in English as: Thank you very much. In his case, I suppose it could also mean "Thank you very much for giving me the opportunity of giving you a heart attack and instant bowel movement."

I quickly came to my senses, before he was a foot away and darted out the park bathroom door entrance.  While walking, quickly, on my pained feet and scrambling away as if I was being chased by Bigfoot's deranged uncle, I realized four things.  One, I was successful in commanding my buttocks to keep in any fecal matter.  Two, I think the boy/man was autistic and had a "solid wall of retard" for a body.  Shhh... My sensitivity and naturally instilled political correctness is leaking out again.  And three, about as most importantly, his caretaker or mother or whoever he was with, obviously, was a middle aged, unconcerned person who saw what occurred and sat on a bench seeming not to give a shit about anything.  That could be considered a mistake if the mentally-challenged behemoth was going towards somebody with violent tendencies who didn't scamper away, trying desperately to hold his gravy shits back.  Four, I hadn't taken my Valium that day, yet.

I'm thinking about making a custom made shirt for myself.  It will read:  I'm a sufferer from depression and anxiety disorders.  Please refrain from allowing your own craziness and your human keeping responsibilities "entities" (like mentally retarded youngsters and unbalanced young men and women) and whiny brats to come within a solid yard from me or I will freeze up and/or go on a killing spree.  Thanks!

That might be a little too long and I know most people generally have a low attention span.  I might just go with:  Fuck off!  You people bother me! 


I'm okay with stress when it's not of the sudden shocking kind.  For instance, the other night, my wife and I were riding home in a gusty-as-hell, lightening filled, bucket filling kind of thunderstorm the other night.  I was driving.  I knew I wouldn't panic because I could see, before getting back out onto the interstate highway for the 30 mile trek back home, it was going to be a doozy.  Instead, I calmly drove the truck home, hands firmly and courageously stable on the steering wheel and slowing moved around the ponds of water on the sides of the roads.

As long as I know what's coming, I'm alright.

Yesterday, we had another thunderstorm.  It knocked the electricity out for four hours.  I took a nap in the middle of the thunderstorm.  They had tornado "watches" for several neighboring counties on the TV before I took my nap.  Note:  Four weeks ago, we had a dozen tornadoes ravage our state and a couple nearby states.  I wrote a blog post about it.  When I got up, it was starting to get dark.  I lit a couple candles to see the toilet, furniture that I could stub my toe on and so on.  Then I put on some sweat pants and looked out on the balcony.  Even though it was getting dark, it was beginning to hail quarter sized hailstones, along with 60 mph wind gusts and rain.  And about an hour later the electricity came back on.

Quarter sized hail is nothing for me.  I lived during the "148 tornado and baseball-sized hail stone incident" in 1974.  There was a tornado in our back yard at one point.  I didn't have anxiety disorder back then so I quickly ran to the window, against my screaming parent's will, to check out the very real tornado.  A couple hours later, my younger sister and I started to go outside and collect hailstones like Easter eggs, from the grass, putting them in our Playmate coolers to later store them in the freezer.  Of course, finding no practical usage for them, we threw them back out on the ground after a week.

In hindsight, I should have kept them, went up the big tree in the yard and threw them at cars that passed by our house.  Oh well.

Even though it's fascinating to watch hail, quarter-sized or larger, come down for some people and even me, when I'm in the mood, I am more concerned about my vehicles.  I was hoping it wouldn't damage my truck this time.  Not only is that truck a "deer magnet", but I was thinking that the hailstones might dent the body or crack the glass.

Other than this stuff going on, including a non working AC unit in 87 degree weather and other smaller problems, things seem to be getting better for me.

That's all I got for now.  Have a great weekend!  I'm sure I'll stop by your blog, soon, to offer you a cordial comment full that's sure to be chock full of whimsy and wit.  Beats being chock full of shit, any day of the week, right?  Later!   

Adventures While Camping at The Gorge (Part Three)

For PART ONE and PART TWO of this series, click the links.

As I've mentioned before, there are some rough trails at Red River Gorge. No doubt about it. Take this photo, for instance. It shows a typical example of what a challenging trail would be like.

See the tree roots halfway embedded in the ground? Those are great fun to trip over when you're exhausted or half drunk or both.

We ate pretty good during our camping trip at The Gorge. Steve cooked most of the food while I watched him do it. He was my cook bitch. But don't tell him I said that. On this night we had grilled deer steak. And no, those aren't maggots on the meat in the picture below. They're some kind of spice/seeds that I can't think of the name of, at the moment. My friend wanted to use this on the meat to tame a little of the gamey flavor that deer tends to have.

It didn't matter to me. I can eat venison in any shape or form, with spices or without. I'm a true carnivore, damn it! If I'm hungry enough, I'll eat the balls off a bison as he's taking a leak. Wait! Not while he's pissing! I'll wait til he's fast asleep and then I'll chow down on his gamey jewels. He shouldn't wake up. Nah!

Speaking of balls, have you ever tried Rocky Mountain Oysters? Yum is the word.

We would take a breather, every so often along the trails and rest our poor saggy old asses on the natural rock formations, enjoying the inviting beauty and calm of Mother Nature. I really needed to go on this camping trip last September. I was going through some emotional calamity involving my father or wife during this time (I forget what it was, exactly) and this experience helped to bring peace and perspective to my life. It was terrific therapy for yours truly. Plus, it was crazy fun.

During the course of our adventures at The Gorge, we imbibed in adult beverages. Hard to believe, eh? In the following picture, you'll see that I am exploring my creative side by producing a talk show I put together with stuff I found on the forest ground. Enjoy, won't you?

Further exploring both our creative sides, we go to the amphitheater to put on short skits and musicals for one another while completely fucked up. I have videos of our creative masterpieces and I must say... they're really quite embarrassing- even by my standards. Luckily, no one was around and the amphitheater is pretty well hidden in the forest.

All in all, we had a fun, relaxing and invigorating time at The Gorge. If you really ever want to truly get away from the noise of the city or craziness in your life, I would suggest going here or a rustic and primitive locale similar to this. It's like a gift for your mind and spirit and it does wonders for your emotional well being. I know it does for me.

And now our journey ends. I hope you enjoyed the jaunty tour and I hope you're able to get away from it all, someday and experience the wonders of nature in all of it's uplifting glory.

Later, dudes and dudettes.

Adventures While Camping at The Gorge (Part Two)

To read the first part of this series click here.

After we helped each other set up our tents, we were finally able to relax. You've got to remember: We're a couple of middle-aged, overweight men who if either of us had to do a push-up, there's a ninety percent chance we would snap our arms in half and shit our pants, simultaneously.

I say that with pride as I scratch my man nuggets.

Of course, each of us had cushioned air mattresses with battery operated air pumps. Too old to sleep on a floor. Too old and out of shape to manually blow up an air mattress. Unlike the old days, when we were in our twenties, we wouldn't have been able to survive the night in the present, lying directly on the floor of a tent.

When we were in our twenties, we would hike up these insane mountains, carrying heavy backpacks and later sleep on the ground at night, on the edge of cliffs.

After the tiresome event of setting up camp, unloading our stuff from the truck and carrying this or that 3000 lb object here or there, we rewarded ourselves by sitting in fold up chairs, feeling as used up as a toothless crack ho named Lameeshqua.

I was so flippin' beat, I couldn't pour myself a drink. We did manage to build a fire, that first night, if I recall. We sat before that fire, staring into the flames, chatting about the The Firebucket Man. You'll have to read Part One of this story in order to know who I'm talking about.

We both turned in for the night, going into our tents. Then sometime in the middle of the night, I have a surreal experience in the dark of my tent. I feel like I'm going bat shit crazy. I feel like someone is attacking me inside my tent. I don't know if I'm dreaming this or half dreaming this or what. My sister suffers from night terrors but to my knowledge, I don't remember ever having an incident of that type.

My friend, Steve, said he awoke from this terrible guttural, growling noise emanating from my tent sometime that night. Now Steve is a very sound sleeper. He lives in an apartment near the railroad tracks in the busiest part of town and he can sleep through pretty much anything. Sirens going off. Fireworks. You name it. So when he says that I woke him up, that's significant news.

He thought maybe there was a bear and a dog fighting outside over food. My friend was desperately trying to remember if we had left any food outside, due to carelessness and utter exhaustion.

Every few seconds, I would let out a shriek in the previous calm of the night. He said he heard noises he couldn't describe coming from my tent and it was causing him major concern. At one point, he slowly unzipped his tent window and saw the bottom portion of my tent bucking around, like I was kicking it. I do remember kicking at my imagined attacker and punching at it's body.

Steve said he didn't know whether to go out of his tent and ask if I was alright or perform an exorcism.

Fearing that I would stab him in the chest, if he tried unzipping my tent door, with the Bowie knife I had brought with me, Steve stayed away. All of the commotion was apparently that bad.

The next morning, I was groggy and my throat was hoarse (I guess from all the noises I had made). My friend told me what happened throughout the night and I told him I thought maybe I was dreaming or that I had a panic attack of some kind. I offered to him the fact that I'm not a big fan of being in complete darkness. That may have instigated a chain of reactions in me that night but I'm not really sure what it was. Maybe it was Steve's infamous god-awful snoring that can be heard from two towns away that made me go mad. It's still a mystery.

The following nights, I doubled up on my prescription Valium to help me sleep and to help defeat the ear-bleeding decibels of snoring coming from Steve's tent. It worked. No more bear/dog/Satanic noises came from me, according to Steve. No more "dreams", either, other than a few boring ones involving a toothless crack ho and a Pee Wee Herman bobble-head. You know... the usual.

The following days we enjoyed moments of serenity as we walked on some trails and over and under a few natural sandstone bridges. There were spots along the trails where the views of Red River Gorge could truly invigorate your soul.

At one point, we saw this lizard with a chopped off tail, sitting on a trail sign, and we, in our drunken state, competed with each other in seeing how good of a close up shot we could take with our cameras. Each shot, we got increasingly closer and closer. The lizard thought we were probably nuts. Amazingly, he didn't move the whole time. After twenty minutes or so of this nonsense, we finally walked the trail to Gray's Arch. Likely, much to the lizard's relief.

Here are some pics of plants, mushrooms, trees and berries. None of which were ingested. Especially, the trees. They're kind of hard to swallow.

There were trails that had a shitload of steps to travel up and down. Though they provided a challenge, they were worth the scenic viewpoints we were lucky to be immersed in.

This year, there had been a number of incidents where bears had come into the campsites and were freaking people out, which is understandable. A few people have been attacked by bears, in the past, at The Gorge. The area is also famous for people falling off the cliffs along the trails. Here's one memorial, out of a dozen or so, dedicated to those who have died while hiking the high altitude trails. Ya gotta be careful, folks! Tee hee.

Every so often, you'll encounter signs like these at the beginning or along the trails.

Enlarge and read the cautionary print for a chuckle.

On the trail leading to Half Moon Arch, we met a guy with two dogs that had little red "saddles" on their backs. Each "doggie backpack" had two big pockets. My friend asked the pet owner what the dogs were carrying. The guy said, without missing a beat, "Bottled water and their poop."

This dude was so conscientious about his dogs leaving poop on these rough trails, hardly walked paths, that he had his dogs carry their own shit with them wherever they went. I thought that was particularly nice and thoughtful of him. Especially the part where he had his dogs packing and lugging his bottled water for him, as well.*

*snicker

And hey, at least they weren't carrying his shit.

We met a lot of interesting folks during our stay at The Gorge. Tomorrow, I will offer up the 3rd installment to this adventure. In this next episode, you will learn how to cook a deer over an open fire and you'll encounter other odd and wonderful sights along the way. See you there!

Adventures While Camping at The Gorge (Part One)

During the last week of September, I took off with my friend, Steve and went to Red River Gorge, which is located in east-central Kentucky in the Daniel Boone National Forest. We spent a week, there, thoroughly enjoying the quiet and serenity.

There are more than 100 natural sandstone arches and bridges in this canyon system full of waterfalls and rock cliffs. The beautiful wild flowers, mountains and valleys and unique plants only to this area can take your breath away and fill you with a force that is powerful and peaceful.

Many come to this place for the ultimate in relaxation therapy which entails nothing more than walking about the land, hiking the multitude of easy and challenging trails while taking in the inspiring sights of a full blue sky, a strong river and an endless sea of flora.

Our first day there wasn't awful. It was inconvenient. It rained before we got there and four more hours after we arrived.

Luckily, an insane man happened our way, at Koomer Ridge Campground, that sits inside The Gorge area. We were looking for a spot to pitch our tents. The dude had a scraggly beard on his narrow, well worn, leathery face and he more than slightly reminded me of Charles Manson.

The guy drove a small white truck that appeared as though somebody cruelly chopped it's ass off with a skyscraper-sized butcher knife. Hard thing to describe- this truck. A definite fail on the design. I took a picture of it at one point during the trip. Here ya go-

See that poor white thing in the middle of the picture with it's ass cut off? Yeah, that's it. It's not me I was talking about. Although some have said I am lacking in the ass department while there are others that just rave about my beautiful ass. Must be the curly auburn hair and two little dimples that are scattered about the landscape of my bottom. Oops. Just farted. Oh, and the delicate aromas wafting outwards, so I've heard, have been voted for the People's Choice Award.

No applause, please.

The guy pulled up alongside our brown pickup truck and made it look like we were riding in Mechagodzilla, our first day there.

Fortunately, their chaperon didn't interfere.

While the rain poured and "Charles Manson" spoke, we couldn't help but notice there were six tall white buckets, in the back of his "truck" that had flames rising up around 6 inches from the top of the buckets. On closer inspection, looking down and to the right, we saw that he was carrying burning wood in those buckets that were only inches away behind his seat.

We said to him, breaking into his rambling, almost in unison, "Did you know you're on fire?"

He nodded, casually and then said, "Oh yeahhhh, that's just the firewood I picked up and put in my arms in a bundle from a few camp sites down the road here. Then I put 'em into the buckets."

We were still looking at him in confusion for 3 reasons. One, it's pouring down rain like a mothertrucker and the wood is going to be thoroughly soaked, extinguishing the flames in a short period of time. Two, YOU PICKED UP FLAME-ENGULFED LOGS? And three, why would you put them in plastic buckets in the very near vicinity of the back of your small freakish truck? Ah, I can't forget the fourth one... Wouldn't it have been less difficult to completely put out the firewood before grabbing onto it?

As if in response to our confusion, he told us he was the campground host. I knew what that meant but it didn't really explain things. His job, as campground host, is to look after and clean up the campground facilities and answer questions people might have about the overlooks and scenic points at Red River Gorge and assist us in any directions and rules, pertaining to the Koomer Ridge campground.

We chuckled nervously and let the thing about the fire pass. It was his business whether he carried fire in plastic buckets in the back of his short shitty truck. I just wanted to move along, in case there was an explosion. We asked him where was the best double occupancy campsite that would enable both of us to put our tents on. The grizzled host told us what we wanted to know and we rushed away and not until we were far enough down the road, did we laugh at his expense. The guy actually seemed friendly enough and not once did he sneak into our camp site and cut off my head. So for that, I say he's A-Okay and a cracker jack of a gentleman.

Yes, indeed.

We went to the Hemlock Lodge, later, relaxing and drinking coffee, looking out the large glass windows as the rain continued pouring. We couldn't set up camp yet. It was both soothing and invigorating as we sat there at the lodge, hearing the drops hit the roof, crawl down the glass. We saw the lake below, the tall oaks and maples. Pure nirvana.

The pounding rain eventually dwindled into a drizzle and then a sprinkle. We headed off to our camp site and by the time we got there, the rain had stopped and we were able to set up camp. And we had a lot of stuff to unpack, too. Gas stove, utensils, flashlights, our meds, my insulin, backpacks, suitcases full of clothes, boxes of food, chairs, adult beverages (which aren't allowed) and who knows what.

Really. I can't tell you what else we had because I was inebriated or something about half the time we were down there. Nature, adult beverages, good talks and great walks throughout our time at The Gorge all swirled together like a fantastical realm of perfect balance and color-infused harmony.

Yeah, baby. Can ya dig it?

Here's our camp site, above and a few other charming pictures, below, taken during our adventures. Yes, that is me, pinching my frozen nips one morning. Oh, what a glorious time I had. :) I know you want to insert your own sick jokes here. And by sick jokes, I mean your dicks.

You sick freaks!

Just kidding, lady bloggers out there. I know you aren't hermaphrodites. Well, I guess not. Just going by the times I window-peeped on ya.

If you want to see more pics of my camping trip at Red River Gorge, I've got a photo album on Facebook that has 216 photos in it. If you have friended me, already, feel free to look at them. Quite a few are wallpaper worthy. If you haven't friended me, or don't do the Farcebook thing, well, what are you waiting for? I mean... Good Golly and Holy Buh-Jeezus! As long as I feel I can trust you somewhat to not rape, rob and sodomize me with a tractor mower, I will accept your friend invitation. I'm easy.

Stay tuned for Part Two of my Adventures While Camping at The Gorge, coming up tomorrow.