A few transit facts are worthy of mention. The drive from Waimanalo to Koko Marina in Hawai'i Kai takes about 17 minutes. The drive from Chaos Manor to Hawai'i Kai usually took 20 minutes, sometimes more, mainly because of traffic. The last bus that passes through Hawai'i Kai, and makes the connection with a bus going through Waimanalo, departs Kahala at 6:30pm. The only route serving Waimanalo after that time runs through downtown. From Kahala, two connecting bus routes must be taken, with an optimistic trip duration of 80 minutes. For the time being, commuting by bus will only be practical within the city boundaries.
This morning, the landlord invited me in the main house for a cup of coffee and to let the four resident canines become acquainted with me. Of course, we ended up chatting for a while. I requested only a half-cup of coffee because of the long journey ahead of me that is devoid of restrooms. We discussed Alan of Chaos Manor (read: rental housing) fame. The rest of discussion pertained to the landlord's family and other pedestrian topics. Actually, the discussion was quite interesting. As the time was getting late, I politely ended the discussion.
The journey from Waimanalo to Hawai'i Kai was nice. Very little traffic and no stupidity. I have been listening to the psychotic classical pieces on public radio along the way. The traffic stupidity commences once I enter Hawai'i Kai proper. The real benefit of driving my Nissan® Frontier truck to Hawai'i Kai is that I can park in the small parking structure which affords shade from the damaging effects of the sun. Of course, the vehicle is fairly dilapidated now. So, any benefit is minimal. The wear-and-tear of daily driving will also negate any benefits.
I arrived in Hawai'i Kai with just seconds to spare before the arrival of the bus. The ride to town was the same as usual. I felt as if my whole routine was back to "normal," if such a state actually exits. Once in town, I retrieved my mail from the rented mailbox. I was pleasantly surprised to see an envelope from the moneygrubbing Chinks of the property management firm that oversees the Chinatown dormitory. Inside were two checks, one for the security deposit refund and the other for the "prorated" rent refund. The thieves ultimately stole $212 from me, but I will not pursue the matter any further. In fact, I had yet to file the paperwork for Small Claims Court. When the moneygrubbing Chinks are lying in pain on their deathbeds, they will have plenty of time to ruminate upon their previous transgressions. The "soul" cannot redeem itself when death looms. Case closed.
To celebrate the closure with the moneygrubbing Chinks, I ordered an overpriced muffin to accompany my expensive cup of coffee at the coffee shop in town. Then, I performed another leisurely workout at the gym. There were a lot of new faces. The gym was actually quite crowded. No doubt, most of them are of the "New Year's Resolution" demographic. No doubt, many of them will disappear after a few weeks.
Afterwards, I rode the bus back to Hawai'i Kai. I had enough time to drop off my gym bag in my vehicle. I then grabbed my sackpack and walked back to the bus stop. I reflected on my new routine. Strangely, it seems quite like the routine of a homeless guy. My vehicle is like a motorhome. And, the only time that I can sit down and unwind is when I am riding the bus. Otherwise, I am simply loitering in one place or another.
Once I arrived in Kahala, I continued the celebration by going on a shopping spree at the Ross® store in the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall). I purchased another sackpack, boardshorts, and one of those ridiculous "camo" shorts for $27 total (with the senior citizen discount). Wheee! The remainder of the evening was the same as usual, thank Molech.
Tuesday, January 6, 2015
Monday, January 5, 2015
Drive
The drive to Waimanalo was long and laborious yesterday afternoon. When I arrived at the approximate location, I called the landlord on the cheap "smartphone." The landlord guided me onto the property, which actually is quite a spread out in the middle of nowhere. There are two houses and ample land for the nursery. However, the nursery really doesn't make any money. It's more like a hobby for the landlord. I was shown the small attached studio, my temporary home until I find something else.
Waimanalo has grown quite a bit. I am acquainted with Waimanalo because I had to drive through it with my Nissan® Frontier truck for the usual Hawai'i Kai visit when I resided in Kane'ohe. Waimanalo is still a "one-horse town" or what the locals call "country." I chatted with the landlord and the landlord's husband for a while, long enough to delay my evening outing. I unpacked as quickly as possible, and headed to Hawai'i Kai. I thought that I would be able to ride the bus to the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala, but there really wasn't enough time. So, I ended up at the fast food joint in Hawai'i Kai. There's several fast food joints in Waimanalo, but I just didn't want to be there. Town is where I belong. In fact, I sort of miss Chaos Manor (read: rental housing).
Incidentally, I am thankful that the landlord has offered me temporary lodging at the same rent as Chaos Manor. The room is small, but detached from the main house. There are three small windows, which makes it seem more like a dungeon. It has a small bathroom with a shower. Utilities, laundry facilities, and a few other amenities are included. And, it's furnished. I will also have Net access. I cannot complain. However, I will need to commence my search for a place in town. I doubt that I can rely upon Alan. So, I'm on my own.
The common cold prevented me from sleeping well. Otherwise, there really wasn't much in the way of noise except a few roosters crowing in the distance. Occasionally, a dog was heard barking. Quite a drastic change from Chaos Manor. I was up at 7:30am. Just as I was ready to depart for Hawai'i Kai, I espied the landlord walking around the expansive property. We ended up chatting for a while. So, my departure was delayed. The drive to Hawai'i Kai, although much longer than I prefer, was very nice. Very little traffic, scenic with little in the way of city driving stupidity.
Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Moms is doing fine, relatively speaking. I will probably discuss family matters in a future "blog" post. Nothing pressing or out of the ordinary, though. I performed my usual workout at the gym, going at a leisurely pace. Afterwards, I placed all of my gym gear into my vehicle. I donned my evening outing pack and waited for the next bus.
The bus ride to the den of consumerism in Kahala took 35 minutes, although I arrived much earlier than usual. The whole process has been a rehearsal for what may become my regular routine. Tentatively, I have decided to drive my vehicle to Hawai'i Kai every morning. I will park in the Koko Marina parking structure (except on Monday and Friday visits). Then, I will ride the bus to town. The standard agenda and itinerary will remain unchanged. In the late afternoon, I will return to Hawai'i Kai to drop off my gym gear. Then, I will initiate the evening outing from there, just as I did this evening.
Overall, I have outlined the most practical procedure to circumvent my residence in the middle of nowhere. I could ride the bus to and from Waimanalo, but returning there in the afternoon to drop off my gym gear would be impractical time-wise. Given that I will be motoring around more, I must consider the purchase of a smaller, fuel-efficient vehicle. Sometimes, I really don't know.
Waimanalo has grown quite a bit. I am acquainted with Waimanalo because I had to drive through it with my Nissan® Frontier truck for the usual Hawai'i Kai visit when I resided in Kane'ohe. Waimanalo is still a "one-horse town" or what the locals call "country." I chatted with the landlord and the landlord's husband for a while, long enough to delay my evening outing. I unpacked as quickly as possible, and headed to Hawai'i Kai. I thought that I would be able to ride the bus to the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala, but there really wasn't enough time. So, I ended up at the fast food joint in Hawai'i Kai. There's several fast food joints in Waimanalo, but I just didn't want to be there. Town is where I belong. In fact, I sort of miss Chaos Manor (read: rental housing).
Incidentally, I am thankful that the landlord has offered me temporary lodging at the same rent as Chaos Manor. The room is small, but detached from the main house. There are three small windows, which makes it seem more like a dungeon. It has a small bathroom with a shower. Utilities, laundry facilities, and a few other amenities are included. And, it's furnished. I will also have Net access. I cannot complain. However, I will need to commence my search for a place in town. I doubt that I can rely upon Alan. So, I'm on my own.
The common cold prevented me from sleeping well. Otherwise, there really wasn't much in the way of noise except a few roosters crowing in the distance. Occasionally, a dog was heard barking. Quite a drastic change from Chaos Manor. I was up at 7:30am. Just as I was ready to depart for Hawai'i Kai, I espied the landlord walking around the expansive property. We ended up chatting for a while. So, my departure was delayed. The drive to Hawai'i Kai, although much longer than I prefer, was very nice. Very little traffic, scenic with little in the way of city driving stupidity.
Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Moms is doing fine, relatively speaking. I will probably discuss family matters in a future "blog" post. Nothing pressing or out of the ordinary, though. I performed my usual workout at the gym, going at a leisurely pace. Afterwards, I placed all of my gym gear into my vehicle. I donned my evening outing pack and waited for the next bus.
The bus ride to the den of consumerism in Kahala took 35 minutes, although I arrived much earlier than usual. The whole process has been a rehearsal for what may become my regular routine. Tentatively, I have decided to drive my vehicle to Hawai'i Kai every morning. I will park in the Koko Marina parking structure (except on Monday and Friday visits). Then, I will ride the bus to town. The standard agenda and itinerary will remain unchanged. In the late afternoon, I will return to Hawai'i Kai to drop off my gym gear. Then, I will initiate the evening outing from there, just as I did this evening.
Overall, I have outlined the most practical procedure to circumvent my residence in the middle of nowhere. I could ride the bus to and from Waimanalo, but returning there in the afternoon to drop off my gym gear would be impractical time-wise. Given that I will be motoring around more, I must consider the purchase of a smaller, fuel-efficient vehicle. Sometimes, I really don't know.
Sunday, January 4, 2015
Waimanalo
Although the common cold is still tormenting the oversized cranium, I was up fairly early this morning at Chaos Manor (read: rental housing) to complete the last of the laundry chores and pack everything for the move to Waimanalo. The usual itinerary was followed, which meant another day at the gym.
I returned to Chaos Manor at 3pm. I completed the final packing. The "blog" was updated early, just in case. I may not have Net access for the rest of the day. My plan is to call the landlord and make final arrangements for my departure. I should be in Waimanalo before dark.
Over the past few days, I have been pondering the fate of my evening outings to Kahala. From Chaos Manor to Kahala, the bus ride is about ten minutes. From Waimanalo, the bus ride is much longer and requires one transfer. There are two possible routes, both of which are fairly long. The shortest of the two routes goes through Hawai'i Kai. Unfortunately, the last bus to service the connecting bus to Waimanalo ends its service at 8pm. If I missed that bus, I would have to go to town to make a connection with a different bus that would get me to Waimanalo via a longer route through Kailua (home to a certain fitness and training hottie). An alternative would be for me to drive my vehicle to Hawai'i Kai, park it there, and ride the bus to and from Kahala. That's an expensive alternative, by the way.
Why is the evening outing so important? And, why must is occur in Kahala? Why not not Waimanalo? How about Kailua? Or Kane'ohe? Well, Waimanalo is a "one-horse town." Enough said. Kailua does not have a den of consumerism (read: shopping mall). Kane'ohe, where my former townhouse is located, has a nice den of consumerism, but it is also quite a distance away. In any case, I have become quite familiar with the den of consumerism in Kahala. And, I am a familiar face at several eateries. So, I am treated well.
Other decisions, currently pending, will be finalized. Will I keep the cheap "smartphone" and its service plan? Will I divest my vehicle? Will I remain in Waimanalo? I should know the answers in a few days time. The bottom line is that I really don't want to move to Waimanalo.
On a side note, this morning, Alan was still in the process of moving out and cleaning up his trash. The professional movers cost him over $700 for services rendered. Upon payment, he discovered that he did not have enough money left to pay for accommodations at the hostel in town. Instead, he will staying at his friend's house in Kapolei. There are already six people residing in the four-bedroom house, two adults and four offspring of varying ages. His friend is allocating a private room for Alan.
Lastly, I ran into my formerly-homeless buddy this morning as I was about to enter the coffee shop In town. He told me that he had been in the hospital for a heart transplant. He showed me the long incision that ran vertically along the center of his torso. Long story short, he collapsed while waiting at a bus stop about three weeks ago. When he was conscious again, he had already been through the operation. So, he doesn't remember anything. My formerly-homeless buddy is still planning an extended visit to Vietnam next month. Frankly, I am wondering if that's going to be his final trip, if you know what I mean.
I returned to Chaos Manor at 3pm. I completed the final packing. The "blog" was updated early, just in case. I may not have Net access for the rest of the day. My plan is to call the landlord and make final arrangements for my departure. I should be in Waimanalo before dark.
Over the past few days, I have been pondering the fate of my evening outings to Kahala. From Chaos Manor to Kahala, the bus ride is about ten minutes. From Waimanalo, the bus ride is much longer and requires one transfer. There are two possible routes, both of which are fairly long. The shortest of the two routes goes through Hawai'i Kai. Unfortunately, the last bus to service the connecting bus to Waimanalo ends its service at 8pm. If I missed that bus, I would have to go to town to make a connection with a different bus that would get me to Waimanalo via a longer route through Kailua (home to a certain fitness and training hottie). An alternative would be for me to drive my vehicle to Hawai'i Kai, park it there, and ride the bus to and from Kahala. That's an expensive alternative, by the way.
Why is the evening outing so important? And, why must is occur in Kahala? Why not not Waimanalo? How about Kailua? Or Kane'ohe? Well, Waimanalo is a "one-horse town." Enough said. Kailua does not have a den of consumerism (read: shopping mall). Kane'ohe, where my former townhouse is located, has a nice den of consumerism, but it is also quite a distance away. In any case, I have become quite familiar with the den of consumerism in Kahala. And, I am a familiar face at several eateries. So, I am treated well.
Other decisions, currently pending, will be finalized. Will I keep the cheap "smartphone" and its service plan? Will I divest my vehicle? Will I remain in Waimanalo? I should know the answers in a few days time. The bottom line is that I really don't want to move to Waimanalo.
On a side note, this morning, Alan was still in the process of moving out and cleaning up his trash. The professional movers cost him over $700 for services rendered. Upon payment, he discovered that he did not have enough money left to pay for accommodations at the hostel in town. Instead, he will staying at his friend's house in Kapolei. There are already six people residing in the four-bedroom house, two adults and four offspring of varying ages. His friend is allocating a private room for Alan.
Lastly, I ran into my formerly-homeless buddy this morning as I was about to enter the coffee shop In town. He told me that he had been in the hospital for a heart transplant. He showed me the long incision that ran vertically along the center of his torso. Long story short, he collapsed while waiting at a bus stop about three weeks ago. When he was conscious again, he had already been through the operation. So, he doesn't remember anything. My formerly-homeless buddy is still planning an extended visit to Vietnam next month. Frankly, I am wondering if that's going to be his final trip, if you know what I mean.
Saturday, January 3, 2015
Indulgence
Last night, I ended up at the fast food joint in Kahala to enjoy one greasy "value menu" item for dinner and to exploit the free wireless Net "hotspot" with my cheap "smartphone." During the course of my time there, I noticed a group of about ten teenagers, all guys, loitering and having a good time. As I was exiting the eatery, I happened to glance over and see all of them playing with their Apple® "smartphones." And, young and old, the "smartphone" of choice is the Apple® iPhone®. People seem to have lots of money to indulge in luxuries such as premium contract "smartphones." I cannot even imagine paying those high monthly service fees.
When I returned to Chaos Manor (read: rental housing), I discovered that the Sonicare® air flosser has developed a culture of black mold in its tiny water reservoir. I have only owned the expensive gadget for a couple of months. Time for divestiture, you think? Then, I was privy to about 20 minutes of Net access. The prevailing gusty winds caused a brief power outage of about five seconds. That seemed to be enough to cause the cable network neighborhood hub to shut down. I was not able to adequately entertain myself, which is really a sad state of affairs. I finally decided to go to sleep at 10:30pm. Of course, the common cold had other plans for me.
Essentially, another sleepless night was to be enjoyed by my weary body. I was up at "the crack of dawn." Fortunately, Net access was restored. The agenda and itinerary for the day ... same ol' shit. Oh, how I love that phrase! Unfortunately, when I move to Waimanalo, the itinerary will change drastically. Waimanalo is literally in the middle of nowhere. I will have to ride a different bus route to town in the day. As for my evening outings to Kahala, I have no idea. I may have to drive my Nissan® Frontier truck to Hawai'i Kai every night and commute to and from Kahala by bus. Obviously, petrol expenses and wear-and-tear on the vehicle will increase.
Anyway, astute readers of the old "blog" may recall that I had once seriously entertained the idea of finding a detached studio in Waimanalo in the quest to find peace and monastic solitude. Well, now my dream has come true. And, I am not liking it one bit. Well, I was much younger and more foolish at the time. Change is never welcomed by old codgers. Senior citizens desire stability in a time when life expectancy is so unpredictable. Sheesh!
I departed for town on the bus at the usual time this morning. Alan was already busy packing his "stuff." Once in town, the usual agenda was followed, but with a leisurely theme. I was sportin' a really bad headache caused by excessive coughing. There's only one cure. Yes, a hot cup of coffee from the coffee shop in town. Naturally, I did not dress for the cold weather. Neither was I expecting rain. Lots of rain. Another mediocre workout at the gym followed my coffee break. Afterwards, I went on a failed shopping mission at two discount stores in the immediate vicinity. I have been looking for a new pair of boardshorts, but the only ones available in my size were hideous. Old codgers cannot be seen in such hideous garb.
When I returned to Chaos Manor, the professional movers were on the scene. Alan has paid them a handsome sum to pack the remainder of his "stuff" and transport all the crates, boxes, furniture, and plastic storage containers to his new storage unit (at a cost of $220 per month). He will be checking into the hostel this evening, if all goes as planned. I commenced packing my meager possessions as well, although there really isn't much to pack. By tomorrow afternoon, I should have only eight items (including one piece of luggage, my gym bag, and the house vacuum cleaner) to take with me. That's it. Alan and the professional movers finally departed at 6pm.
Finding an eatery to procure dinner was once again the focal point of the evening outing to Kahala. I ended up purchasing a bowl of soup at the sandwich shop and redeemed my accumulated rewards for a free sandwich. I then purchased a greasy "value menu" item at the fast food joint and ate my meal there in order to exploit the free wireless Net "hotspot." When I return to Chaos Manor, I will do my laundry chores in order to pack my luggage tonight. Alan is supposed to return to clean up the huge pile of trash in his former squalid room. The sad legacy of Chaos Manor is nearly over.
When I returned to Chaos Manor (read: rental housing), I discovered that the Sonicare® air flosser has developed a culture of black mold in its tiny water reservoir. I have only owned the expensive gadget for a couple of months. Time for divestiture, you think? Then, I was privy to about 20 minutes of Net access. The prevailing gusty winds caused a brief power outage of about five seconds. That seemed to be enough to cause the cable network neighborhood hub to shut down. I was not able to adequately entertain myself, which is really a sad state of affairs. I finally decided to go to sleep at 10:30pm. Of course, the common cold had other plans for me.
Essentially, another sleepless night was to be enjoyed by my weary body. I was up at "the crack of dawn." Fortunately, Net access was restored. The agenda and itinerary for the day ... same ol' shit. Oh, how I love that phrase! Unfortunately, when I move to Waimanalo, the itinerary will change drastically. Waimanalo is literally in the middle of nowhere. I will have to ride a different bus route to town in the day. As for my evening outings to Kahala, I have no idea. I may have to drive my Nissan® Frontier truck to Hawai'i Kai every night and commute to and from Kahala by bus. Obviously, petrol expenses and wear-and-tear on the vehicle will increase.
Anyway, astute readers of the old "blog" may recall that I had once seriously entertained the idea of finding a detached studio in Waimanalo in the quest to find peace and monastic solitude. Well, now my dream has come true. And, I am not liking it one bit. Well, I was much younger and more foolish at the time. Change is never welcomed by old codgers. Senior citizens desire stability in a time when life expectancy is so unpredictable. Sheesh!
I departed for town on the bus at the usual time this morning. Alan was already busy packing his "stuff." Once in town, the usual agenda was followed, but with a leisurely theme. I was sportin' a really bad headache caused by excessive coughing. There's only one cure. Yes, a hot cup of coffee from the coffee shop in town. Naturally, I did not dress for the cold weather. Neither was I expecting rain. Lots of rain. Another mediocre workout at the gym followed my coffee break. Afterwards, I went on a failed shopping mission at two discount stores in the immediate vicinity. I have been looking for a new pair of boardshorts, but the only ones available in my size were hideous. Old codgers cannot be seen in such hideous garb.
When I returned to Chaos Manor, the professional movers were on the scene. Alan has paid them a handsome sum to pack the remainder of his "stuff" and transport all the crates, boxes, furniture, and plastic storage containers to his new storage unit (at a cost of $220 per month). He will be checking into the hostel this evening, if all goes as planned. I commenced packing my meager possessions as well, although there really isn't much to pack. By tomorrow afternoon, I should have only eight items (including one piece of luggage, my gym bag, and the house vacuum cleaner) to take with me. That's it. Alan and the professional movers finally departed at 6pm.
Finding an eatery to procure dinner was once again the focal point of the evening outing to Kahala. I ended up purchasing a bowl of soup at the sandwich shop and redeemed my accumulated rewards for a free sandwich. I then purchased a greasy "value menu" item at the fast food joint and ate my meal there in order to exploit the free wireless Net "hotspot." When I return to Chaos Manor, I will do my laundry chores in order to pack my luggage tonight. Alan is supposed to return to clean up the huge pile of trash in his former squalid room. The sad legacy of Chaos Manor is nearly over.
Friday, January 2, 2015
Fear
Last night, I returned to the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala. I knew that I would end up at the fast food joint for dinner. Premonition? Bad omen? No, that's the only cheap eatery that was open. There were several teenagers loitering in the dining area. As I observed them, I was overpowered by the stark realization that my time has really come and gone. I am an "old fart," just like Alan of Chaos Manor (read: rental housing) fame. I am not young anymore. Yeah, I seem to be repeating myself over and over again, just as a senile old fool would. Well, that's the point. I just cannot seem to accept the fact that I am a senior citizen.
What is most perturbing about my geriatric denial is that I keep repeating the same mistakes over and over again. I am not a young punk. I don't have the luxury of time to repeat adolescent mistakes. Nor do I have time to engage in frivolities. Yet, sometimes I really don't know what to do. I am essentially lost, thereby navigating senior citizenship blindly. I am very afraid, very fearful, of the uncharted territory ahead. Scared "shitless" is more like it.
Unlike Alan, who is hoarding decades of "stuff" (his legacy) to subliminally gain immortality, I have erased my legacy by divesting myself of nearly everything. After all, no legacy is eternal youth. Unfortunately, we are both fools in a fool's paradise. There is no immortality or eternal youth. All that to say ... I want some peace of mind, damn it! I am sick and tired of dealing with immortal morons, especially considering that my time is so limited. Can I get a witness? Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!
Usual Hawai'i Kai visit, But we knew that already. Moms is doing fine. The weather has been fairly cold, relatively speaking. So, the common cold is still raging and causing me tremendous difficulties. Another mediocre workout at the gym. No surprise. When I returned to Chaos Manor this afternoon, both the landlord and Alan were there. I was expecting a clash between the two, but nothing serious transpired. Alan was obviously behind schedule. So, he won't be moving his "stuff" out until tomorrow afternoon. Alan has secured a room at the hostel in town. That's going to cost him about $1,200 per month plus another $150 per month for vehicle parking. We have tentatively agreed to continue the search for alternative rental housing. Perhaps Alan will take the situation a little more seriously next time.
My situation seems to change by the day. However, after a couple of conversations with the landlord this afternoon, I was able to discover that work on the first-floor common area could commence on Monday. So far, the landlord has been about a week behind schedule for everything. Anyway, to be safe, the landlord suggested that I move to Waimanalo on Sunday afternoon. So, that will be my last day at Chaos Manor. Seems like a lifetime, eh?
So, come Sunday, everything will be up in the air, so to speak. All decisions about the superfluous issues that I have been discussing in the "blog" will be up for final consideration. I can make final decisions and attain closure. There will be new issues, of course. I will deal with them then. As for the "blog," we will have wait and see. I may have to return to a more sporadic schedule of posting.
What is most perturbing about my geriatric denial is that I keep repeating the same mistakes over and over again. I am not a young punk. I don't have the luxury of time to repeat adolescent mistakes. Nor do I have time to engage in frivolities. Yet, sometimes I really don't know what to do. I am essentially lost, thereby navigating senior citizenship blindly. I am very afraid, very fearful, of the uncharted territory ahead. Scared "shitless" is more like it.
Unlike Alan, who is hoarding decades of "stuff" (his legacy) to subliminally gain immortality, I have erased my legacy by divesting myself of nearly everything. After all, no legacy is eternal youth. Unfortunately, we are both fools in a fool's paradise. There is no immortality or eternal youth. All that to say ... I want some peace of mind, damn it! I am sick and tired of dealing with immortal morons, especially considering that my time is so limited. Can I get a witness? Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!
Usual Hawai'i Kai visit, But we knew that already. Moms is doing fine. The weather has been fairly cold, relatively speaking. So, the common cold is still raging and causing me tremendous difficulties. Another mediocre workout at the gym. No surprise. When I returned to Chaos Manor this afternoon, both the landlord and Alan were there. I was expecting a clash between the two, but nothing serious transpired. Alan was obviously behind schedule. So, he won't be moving his "stuff" out until tomorrow afternoon. Alan has secured a room at the hostel in town. That's going to cost him about $1,200 per month plus another $150 per month for vehicle parking. We have tentatively agreed to continue the search for alternative rental housing. Perhaps Alan will take the situation a little more seriously next time.
My situation seems to change by the day. However, after a couple of conversations with the landlord this afternoon, I was able to discover that work on the first-floor common area could commence on Monday. So far, the landlord has been about a week behind schedule for everything. Anyway, to be safe, the landlord suggested that I move to Waimanalo on Sunday afternoon. So, that will be my last day at Chaos Manor. Seems like a lifetime, eh?
So, come Sunday, everything will be up in the air, so to speak. All decisions about the superfluous issues that I have been discussing in the "blog" will be up for final consideration. I can make final decisions and attain closure. There will be new issues, of course. I will deal with them then. As for the "blog," we will have wait and see. I may have to return to a more sporadic schedule of posting.
Thursday, January 1, 2015
Nightmare
New Year's Eve ... just another evening outing at the nearly empty den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala. A most enjoyable evening, I must add. Few eateries were open, though. I opted for Panda Express® instead of the other fast food choice. Then, I loitered in the center court with cheap "smartphone" in hand. Hard as it may be to believe, I have come to rely on the cheap "smartphone" more and more, at least to access the Net using wireless "hotspots." Even at Chaos Manor (read: rental housing), I often use the cheap "smartphone" to view [deleted] programs. Why? It is small and easy to deploy. Mind you, the decision to keep the cheap "smartphone" will not be reliant on its convenience.
I'm still illin' with the common cold. One week now, and I am not improving. The grogginess is the worst part. My attention span, reflexes, and cognitive ability have all been affected. Even driving my vehicle to the den of consumerism in Kahala this morning was difficult. Of course, in my later senior citizen years, those symptoms will become a permanent part of my geriatric life-style. Anyway, I didn't feel well at all. The coffee that I procured at the coffee shop (at higher a higher price than the equivalent in town) did not taste good. My granola could have easily been substituted with ground-up cardboard. The post-nasal drip was like a waterfall in my sinuses, causing me to cough and choke sporadically. Old man noises were involuntarily emanating from my vocal chords. I could have been easily mistaken for any number of generic old codgers. Sheesh!
I should mention that, before I departed from Chaos Manor this morning, I attempted to quickly assess Alan's progress in packing for his move. All of the plastic containers were still laying on the floor of the common area. Each container was partly filled with what looked like rubbish. There were lots of scrap paper with scribblings amongst essentially useless junk. Frankly, I believe that he's overwhelmed by his collection of crap. Yet, he just cannot part with any of it. I am certain that what I saw was only a fraction of the stuff in his squalid room. He also has several kitchen cupboards full of food and small cooking appliances as well as months worth of food in the refrigerator and freezer. From what I could ascertain, he's planning to put all of that non-food junk in another storage unit. He's already paying $265 per month on a storage unit that is completely full of, I would assume, more junk and trash. Every time that I actually see Alan, he is asleep on the filthy couch. He is so completely inundated by his crap that he now flees the problem by sleeping. In the meantime, the landlord expects Alan to be completely moved out by Saturday afternoon.
Alan is, from all evidence, suffering from obsession and control issues. He obviously needs to seek professional help. From what I can ascertain, his condition is only going to worsen with age. We already know from previous accounts in the "blog" that Alan is a peculiar individual. He has firm beliefs in the occult and the afterlife. He has extremely poor personal hygiene. He only wears dress clothes (i.e., long-sleeve shirt and slacks) made of synthetic fabric and dress shoes no matter what time of day and under all weather conditions (even hot and humid days). Of course, Alan cannot be helped unless he so desires it. Not going to happen.
I had a terrible time navigating around the den of consumerism This morning. I lost the keys to my vehicle, and I unknowingly dropped various things as I meandered about in a stupor. I nearly missed the bus to town because I had to backtrack and locate my lost crap. My gym workout was mediocre at best, just as it has been for nearly a week. I just didn't feel good. When I returned to the den of consumerism this afternoon, I meandered around for an hour for no particular reason. I kept inadvertently dropping "stuff" again. After backtracking yet again to find everything, I just gave up and drove back to Chaos Manor.
When I arrived back at Chaos Manor, I was very surprised to see Alan laboring away at packing his "stuff." He said that the movers were coming tomorrow to haul all of it off to a new storage unit. Judging from what I saw, including what's left in his squalid room, he will require a fairly large storage unit. Alan has not secures a room at the hostel yet, so he's probably going to end up at a friend's place. As for me, I don't really care one way or the other. I am just relieved tha the nightmare of Chaos Manor is finally over. Good riddance to all!
I'm still illin' with the common cold. One week now, and I am not improving. The grogginess is the worst part. My attention span, reflexes, and cognitive ability have all been affected. Even driving my vehicle to the den of consumerism in Kahala this morning was difficult. Of course, in my later senior citizen years, those symptoms will become a permanent part of my geriatric life-style. Anyway, I didn't feel well at all. The coffee that I procured at the coffee shop (at higher a higher price than the equivalent in town) did not taste good. My granola could have easily been substituted with ground-up cardboard. The post-nasal drip was like a waterfall in my sinuses, causing me to cough and choke sporadically. Old man noises were involuntarily emanating from my vocal chords. I could have been easily mistaken for any number of generic old codgers. Sheesh!
I should mention that, before I departed from Chaos Manor this morning, I attempted to quickly assess Alan's progress in packing for his move. All of the plastic containers were still laying on the floor of the common area. Each container was partly filled with what looked like rubbish. There were lots of scrap paper with scribblings amongst essentially useless junk. Frankly, I believe that he's overwhelmed by his collection of crap. Yet, he just cannot part with any of it. I am certain that what I saw was only a fraction of the stuff in his squalid room. He also has several kitchen cupboards full of food and small cooking appliances as well as months worth of food in the refrigerator and freezer. From what I could ascertain, he's planning to put all of that non-food junk in another storage unit. He's already paying $265 per month on a storage unit that is completely full of, I would assume, more junk and trash. Every time that I actually see Alan, he is asleep on the filthy couch. He is so completely inundated by his crap that he now flees the problem by sleeping. In the meantime, the landlord expects Alan to be completely moved out by Saturday afternoon.
Alan is, from all evidence, suffering from obsession and control issues. He obviously needs to seek professional help. From what I can ascertain, his condition is only going to worsen with age. We already know from previous accounts in the "blog" that Alan is a peculiar individual. He has firm beliefs in the occult and the afterlife. He has extremely poor personal hygiene. He only wears dress clothes (i.e., long-sleeve shirt and slacks) made of synthetic fabric and dress shoes no matter what time of day and under all weather conditions (even hot and humid days). Of course, Alan cannot be helped unless he so desires it. Not going to happen.
I had a terrible time navigating around the den of consumerism This morning. I lost the keys to my vehicle, and I unknowingly dropped various things as I meandered about in a stupor. I nearly missed the bus to town because I had to backtrack and locate my lost crap. My gym workout was mediocre at best, just as it has been for nearly a week. I just didn't feel good. When I returned to the den of consumerism this afternoon, I meandered around for an hour for no particular reason. I kept inadvertently dropping "stuff" again. After backtracking yet again to find everything, I just gave up and drove back to Chaos Manor.
When I arrived back at Chaos Manor, I was very surprised to see Alan laboring away at packing his "stuff." He said that the movers were coming tomorrow to haul all of it off to a new storage unit. Judging from what I saw, including what's left in his squalid room, he will require a fairly large storage unit. Alan has not secures a room at the hostel yet, so he's probably going to end up at a friend's place. As for me, I don't really care one way or the other. I am just relieved tha the nightmare of Chaos Manor is finally over. Good riddance to all!
Wednesday, December 31, 2014
Human Comedy
Last night, I Spent about three hours viewing various programs on RT (formerly known as Russia Today) I really didn't feel like doing much else. I am still illin' after all. RT is refreshing, a "breath of fresh air." And, I finally feel as though I am being properly informed. Many people may disagree, preferring to rely on the corporate-sponsored media of empire. Few critics actually spend any time with RT, so that presents a credibility problem. Anyway, I urge everyone to check out the programs on [deleted].
This morning at Chaos Manor (read: rental housing), Alan said that he is now attempting to secure a room in the Plumeria Hostel that is comprised of two or more old walk-up apartment buildings. The reviews of the accomodations are mixed. There are short-term and longer-term rentals, relatively speaking, and the rates seem to be fairly high. The only redeeming factor appears to be the tourists who stay there on vacation. Otherwise, the longer-term rentals are somewhat similar in quality and type of residents as the disgusting Chinatown dormitory. Anyway, Alan has submitted a reservation for a room. So, he may be moving in there as early as this Friday.
By the way, I spoke with the landlord of Chaos Manor last night, deploying my cheap "smartphone" for the first time. My tentative move to Waimanalo has been pushed up to next week. There appears to be no hurry now. The landlord's most pressing concern, from what I could ascertain, is to get Alan to move out as soon as possible. It is ludicrous, I know. That's the essence of the grand human comedy. Oh, how I wish to distance myself from human folly! Unfortunately, as long as I am in proximity with other humans, then I will be privy to myriad low-grade sitcom scenarios.
When I arrived back at Chaos Manor in the afternoon, I observed all of Alan's new plastic storage containers lying on the floor in the common area. Alan has labeled each container with a description of its pending contents. He sorted out what looks to me like trash and placed them in the labeled containers. So, what's really happening is that Alan is transferring the accumulated useless junk and trash from the stacks of boxes in his squalid room into the new containers. Nearly everything, and I am being serious, could simply be discarded or thrown into the recycle bin. The plan, I suppose, is that he will move all of that junk into the tiny hostel room. My guess is that Alan will be evicted from the Plumeria Hostel within two weeks after moving in.
The Plumeria Hostel, from what I gleaned in the reviews, is comprised of visiting tourists who are on a budget. There are probably lots of young people, university students perhaps, who stay there. Young hotties could also be part of the demographic. The longer-term residents are, once again gleaned from the reviews, derelicts similar to the residents of the despicable Chinatown dormitory. In other words, losers. There is also section partitioned off for babes only. The neighborhood itself is seedy. Over the years, lots of the homeless and destitute have relocated to the locale. Illegal drugs and drug dealing are commonplace. Alan will not fit into either demographic.
To be honest, my only concern is where I will procure my dinner this evening. New Year's Eve is essentially a half-day holiday. So, my outing at the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) this evening will consist of only one survival objective. I, personally, do not celebrate the new year. Why bother? I am only getting older and moving closer to death. Sheesh!
This morning at Chaos Manor (read: rental housing), Alan said that he is now attempting to secure a room in the Plumeria Hostel that is comprised of two or more old walk-up apartment buildings. The reviews of the accomodations are mixed. There are short-term and longer-term rentals, relatively speaking, and the rates seem to be fairly high. The only redeeming factor appears to be the tourists who stay there on vacation. Otherwise, the longer-term rentals are somewhat similar in quality and type of residents as the disgusting Chinatown dormitory. Anyway, Alan has submitted a reservation for a room. So, he may be moving in there as early as this Friday.
By the way, I spoke with the landlord of Chaos Manor last night, deploying my cheap "smartphone" for the first time. My tentative move to Waimanalo has been pushed up to next week. There appears to be no hurry now. The landlord's most pressing concern, from what I could ascertain, is to get Alan to move out as soon as possible. It is ludicrous, I know. That's the essence of the grand human comedy. Oh, how I wish to distance myself from human folly! Unfortunately, as long as I am in proximity with other humans, then I will be privy to myriad low-grade sitcom scenarios.
When I arrived back at Chaos Manor in the afternoon, I observed all of Alan's new plastic storage containers lying on the floor in the common area. Alan has labeled each container with a description of its pending contents. He sorted out what looks to me like trash and placed them in the labeled containers. So, what's really happening is that Alan is transferring the accumulated useless junk and trash from the stacks of boxes in his squalid room into the new containers. Nearly everything, and I am being serious, could simply be discarded or thrown into the recycle bin. The plan, I suppose, is that he will move all of that junk into the tiny hostel room. My guess is that Alan will be evicted from the Plumeria Hostel within two weeks after moving in.
The Plumeria Hostel, from what I gleaned in the reviews, is comprised of visiting tourists who are on a budget. There are probably lots of young people, university students perhaps, who stay there. Young hotties could also be part of the demographic. The longer-term residents are, once again gleaned from the reviews, derelicts similar to the residents of the despicable Chinatown dormitory. In other words, losers. There is also section partitioned off for babes only. The neighborhood itself is seedy. Over the years, lots of the homeless and destitute have relocated to the locale. Illegal drugs and drug dealing are commonplace. Alan will not fit into either demographic.
To be honest, my only concern is where I will procure my dinner this evening. New Year's Eve is essentially a half-day holiday. So, my outing at the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) this evening will consist of only one survival objective. I, personally, do not celebrate the new year. Why bother? I am only getting older and moving closer to death. Sheesh!
Tuesday, December 30, 2014
Luscious Hotties … Gone
Yesterday afternoon, just before exiting the gym in Hawai'i Kai, I noticed a small donation box and a note attached to it on the front counter. Apparently, one of the gym staff members, John, had passed on a few days ago. There were no other details except about the memorial service. I was taken aback as I recall seeing him just about a week or so ago. He looked fine. The shocking part is that he was only 39 years old, although he looked as though he was only in his late twenties. Death can about at any time, any age, any moment, and any circumstance.
I have been ravaged by a bout with the common cold for the past three days. Yeah, illin' again. The episodes seem to get worse as I grow older. Nonetheless, I departed for town earlier than usual. My planned itinerary called for the restoration of my extreme monk haircut. However, when I arrived in town, I discovered that the gym was closed for emergency sewer repairs. I had nowhere to store my gym bag. Nor are there any public restrooms close by. Well, there are restrooms in the Walmart® store, but there was no way that I would be allowed in the store with my gym bag. I would have easily been mistaken for a shoplifting homeless guy. I was dumbfounded and frozen in inaction for several minutes. Then, I walked all the way to the I'olani Palace grounds and relieved myself at the public restroom there. Once done, I walked back to the center of town to procure a cup of expensive coffee at the coffee shop.
The day was not a total loss. The gym reopened about 40 minutes earlier than the posted time. I was able to restore my extreme monk haircut at the expense of my gym workout. I only completed an abridged version of my usual weight routine and the full cardio workout, albeit at a slower pace. I was too fatigued. The common cold was wreaking havoc on me. However, any workout is better than none. Sheesh!
As you may have guessed, I am having difficulty with creating filler material to fit between the pictures of luscious young hotties. Not much really transpires in the day of a senior citizen. We already know my limited routine quite well. And, I can only discuss my useless gadgets so many times before the topic becomes repetitive and boring. Well, the sad part is that there are still hundreds of hottie pictures in the queue. It is safe to state that the "blog" would be nothing without the hottie pictures.
I have heard nothing from the landlord of Chaos Manor (read: rental housing) yet. However, construction materials are gradually accumulating in the first floor common area. So, I assume that the landlord still wants Alan and I to vacate by this weekend. Alan has made no effort to pack all of his junk. There is no way that he will be moving anywhere unless he hires professional movers to do the task for him. I seriously doubt that he will be able to petition the landlord for more time. Is he suffering from early dementia, or what?
Once again, let's review the selected hottie pictures. The other contents of the "blog" pales in comparison. In fact, the only way that the "blog" could redeem itself is if the ol' lavahead had all of those hotties coming around, if you know what I mean. Obviously, that's never going to happen. Oh brother.
Chaos Manor Mini-Update®
Looks like I spoke too soon. Alan has commenced packing all of his junk in preparation for moving out of Chaos Manor. He has purchased about twenty large plastic storage containers.
I have been ravaged by a bout with the common cold for the past three days. Yeah, illin' again. The episodes seem to get worse as I grow older. Nonetheless, I departed for town earlier than usual. My planned itinerary called for the restoration of my extreme monk haircut. However, when I arrived in town, I discovered that the gym was closed for emergency sewer repairs. I had nowhere to store my gym bag. Nor are there any public restrooms close by. Well, there are restrooms in the Walmart® store, but there was no way that I would be allowed in the store with my gym bag. I would have easily been mistaken for a shoplifting homeless guy. I was dumbfounded and frozen in inaction for several minutes. Then, I walked all the way to the I'olani Palace grounds and relieved myself at the public restroom there. Once done, I walked back to the center of town to procure a cup of expensive coffee at the coffee shop.
The day was not a total loss. The gym reopened about 40 minutes earlier than the posted time. I was able to restore my extreme monk haircut at the expense of my gym workout. I only completed an abridged version of my usual weight routine and the full cardio workout, albeit at a slower pace. I was too fatigued. The common cold was wreaking havoc on me. However, any workout is better than none. Sheesh!
As you may have guessed, I am having difficulty with creating filler material to fit between the pictures of luscious young hotties. Not much really transpires in the day of a senior citizen. We already know my limited routine quite well. And, I can only discuss my useless gadgets so many times before the topic becomes repetitive and boring. Well, the sad part is that there are still hundreds of hottie pictures in the queue. It is safe to state that the "blog" would be nothing without the hottie pictures.
I have heard nothing from the landlord of Chaos Manor (read: rental housing) yet. However, construction materials are gradually accumulating in the first floor common area. So, I assume that the landlord still wants Alan and I to vacate by this weekend. Alan has made no effort to pack all of his junk. There is no way that he will be moving anywhere unless he hires professional movers to do the task for him. I seriously doubt that he will be able to petition the landlord for more time. Is he suffering from early dementia, or what?
Once again, let's review the selected hottie pictures. The other contents of the "blog" pales in comparison. In fact, the only way that the "blog" could redeem itself is if the ol' lavahead had all of those hotties coming around, if you know what I mean. Obviously, that's never going to happen. Oh brother.
Chaos Manor Mini-Update®
Looks like I spoke too soon. Alan has commenced packing all of his junk in preparation for moving out of Chaos Manor. He has purchased about twenty large plastic storage containers.
Monday, December 29, 2014
Addict
Last night, I repeated the nearly regular dinner routine during my outing in Kahala. I cleverly end up at the fast food joint in order to exploit the free wireless Net "hotspot." Once there, I deployed my cheap "smartphone" for the task. Then, I observed that nearly everyone else in the dining room was doing the same ... seated at a table and staring at a small rectangular slate. Yeah, I have mentioned the same observation repeatedly. I assumed that nearly everyone was preoccupied with Facebook®. And, I was correct. No matter where I look, I am always privy to espy Facebook® on the small screen. What exactly is there to do on Facebook® that requires constant attention?
I really have to wonder. I once had a Facebook® account. Of course, that was back in the "Dark Ages" when accounts were limited to members of academia. Nonetheless, people were still addicted to the Web site (i.e., no "app" was available then). So, what exactly causes people to spend a sum total of over six hours per day on Facebook®? My guess is that it panders to the narcissistic self, goading the ego, and boosting self-importance to megalomaniac levels. Frankly, I find Facebook® to be totally boring. Perhaps someone could educate me about what I am missing.
Net addiction, however, has always been a problem for users ever since the Net went commercial. Since then, Net addiction has reached epidemic levels. And, that's where the "smartphone" steps in. Having an uninterrupted data connection allows Net addiction to fester like a malignant tumor, at least until the device's battery needs to be charged. Naturally, even that hindrance doesn't squelch Net addiction for some people.
I was once a Net addict and, to some extent, still am. I waste a lot of time on the Net, but I am limited to the availability of wireless Net access. The cheap "smartphone" has a miniscule amount of data allocation, albeit high-speed 4G LTE. Yet, I only compose the "blog" and read (or view) trustworthy news sources. So, why is it so important for me to be on-line? Yeah, that's the big question.
For me, the Net addiction conundrum is the main issue after crossing the official senior citizen threshold. Why would an old codger waste so much precious time on the Net? Very few Web sites and social networking channels cater to the geriatric crowd. Perhaps the old folks spend most of their on-line time visiting medical sites to learn more about their onslaught of chronic maladies. Or, maybe the old codgers are perusing the young hotties featured in hurdy-gurdy video clips. That could lead to "dirty old man" syndrome. Sheesh!
I called and left a message for the landlord. The deadline is nearing for me to vacate Chaos Manor (read: rental housing). So, I am attempting to make the transition as smooth as possible later this week. I will be moving there "sight unseen," by the way. As for Alan, who knows? He has not mentioned anything about moving. In fact, he has acquired more "stuff" and more food. Sometimes I wonder if he's showing signs of early dementia. Oh well.
I really have to wonder. I once had a Facebook® account. Of course, that was back in the "Dark Ages" when accounts were limited to members of academia. Nonetheless, people were still addicted to the Web site (i.e., no "app" was available then). So, what exactly causes people to spend a sum total of over six hours per day on Facebook®? My guess is that it panders to the narcissistic self, goading the ego, and boosting self-importance to megalomaniac levels. Frankly, I find Facebook® to be totally boring. Perhaps someone could educate me about what I am missing.
Net addiction, however, has always been a problem for users ever since the Net went commercial. Since then, Net addiction has reached epidemic levels. And, that's where the "smartphone" steps in. Having an uninterrupted data connection allows Net addiction to fester like a malignant tumor, at least until the device's battery needs to be charged. Naturally, even that hindrance doesn't squelch Net addiction for some people.
I was once a Net addict and, to some extent, still am. I waste a lot of time on the Net, but I am limited to the availability of wireless Net access. The cheap "smartphone" has a miniscule amount of data allocation, albeit high-speed 4G LTE. Yet, I only compose the "blog" and read (or view) trustworthy news sources. So, why is it so important for me to be on-line? Yeah, that's the big question.
For me, the Net addiction conundrum is the main issue after crossing the official senior citizen threshold. Why would an old codger waste so much precious time on the Net? Very few Web sites and social networking channels cater to the geriatric crowd. Perhaps the old folks spend most of their on-line time visiting medical sites to learn more about their onslaught of chronic maladies. Or, maybe the old codgers are perusing the young hotties featured in hurdy-gurdy video clips. That could lead to "dirty old man" syndrome. Sheesh!
I called and left a message for the landlord. The deadline is nearing for me to vacate Chaos Manor (read: rental housing). So, I am attempting to make the transition as smooth as possible later this week. I will be moving there "sight unseen," by the way. As for Alan, who knows? He has not mentioned anything about moving. In fact, he has acquired more "stuff" and more food. Sometimes I wonder if he's showing signs of early dementia. Oh well.
Sunday, December 28, 2014
Viewpoints
Last night, the evening outing in Kahala excluded a visit to the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall). I just procured a sandwich at the sandwich shop and a greasy "value menu" item at the fast food joint. Then, I sat and ate my pathetic dinner at the latter establishment. I wasn't in any mood to deal with crazed Post-Saturnalia shoppers. For some strange reason, shopping and stupidity go hand-in-hand. So, I returned to Chaos Manor (read: rental housing) early and spent the rest of the evening viewing [deleted] news programs.
In useless gadget news, I discovered that the cheap "smartphone" cannot be used on the Tracfone® network because it is an LTE device. So, I would have to purchase a new cellphone, most likely the cheesy $3 "flip phone" model. And, sadly, I have been experiencing several of the documented iOS v8.1.2 problems with the iPad® tablet computer. To say that I am disappointed would be an understatement.
In moneygrubbing Chink news, I must confess that no progress has been made on my part. I have not even started on the paperwork for Small Claims Court. The whole process is fatiguing to me. Mind you, I should first explain that my viewpoint of money has radically altered since turning 60 years of age. I am just not overly concerned about money anymore. Sure, the moneygrubbing Chinks have committed grand larceny. For that reason alone, I should seek justice.
Let me also state that I have had ample time to contemplate the many fortunate circumstances that have graced me over the years. I feel a sense of gratitude, but there is no one or no higher source to address. For example, just this year alone, I was assigned an excellent no-cost health insurance plan. Had that not happened, I would be in arrears for over $10,000 in medical expenses due to an unidentifiable heart problem. That's one of the reasons why I avoid spending money unwisely. I do not desire to make a mockery of my good fortune. And, that's also the reason why I did not entertain the idea of exacting homicidal rampage toward certain moneygrubbing Chinks.
Another day of horrendous mishaps, which is rapidly becoming the "norm." Even my morning coffee ritual was ruined when I spilled half the cup of the expensive brew. And, I was only afforded a microsecond glimpse of a certain fitness and training hottie as baby was leaving the gym just as I arrived. Baby was looking mighty fine, by the way. Well, there's no need to chronicle more of the "bullshit." Just know that I was left in a bad way as a result.
My days at Chaos Manor are numbered. Yet, I have not decided upon a day to move out. Frankly, I am not at all excited about moving to Waimanalo. It is out in the middle of nowhere. In addition, commuting by bus will be both challenging and taxing. The landlord's place is about a half-mile from the bus stop. So, that will be a laborious walk in either the hot sun or pouring rain. I have no other options because I simply let time run out.
At least I have started to pack up what little material possessions that I own. Moving out of Chaos Manor should only take about five minutes. I plan to post to the "blog" daily until the move. Or, maybe I will wait until I exhaust the archived collection of hottie pictures. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!
In useless gadget news, I discovered that the cheap "smartphone" cannot be used on the Tracfone® network because it is an LTE device. So, I would have to purchase a new cellphone, most likely the cheesy $3 "flip phone" model. And, sadly, I have been experiencing several of the documented iOS v8.1.2 problems with the iPad® tablet computer. To say that I am disappointed would be an understatement.
In moneygrubbing Chink news, I must confess that no progress has been made on my part. I have not even started on the paperwork for Small Claims Court. The whole process is fatiguing to me. Mind you, I should first explain that my viewpoint of money has radically altered since turning 60 years of age. I am just not overly concerned about money anymore. Sure, the moneygrubbing Chinks have committed grand larceny. For that reason alone, I should seek justice.
Let me also state that I have had ample time to contemplate the many fortunate circumstances that have graced me over the years. I feel a sense of gratitude, but there is no one or no higher source to address. For example, just this year alone, I was assigned an excellent no-cost health insurance plan. Had that not happened, I would be in arrears for over $10,000 in medical expenses due to an unidentifiable heart problem. That's one of the reasons why I avoid spending money unwisely. I do not desire to make a mockery of my good fortune. And, that's also the reason why I did not entertain the idea of exacting homicidal rampage toward certain moneygrubbing Chinks.
Another day of horrendous mishaps, which is rapidly becoming the "norm." Even my morning coffee ritual was ruined when I spilled half the cup of the expensive brew. And, I was only afforded a microsecond glimpse of a certain fitness and training hottie as baby was leaving the gym just as I arrived. Baby was looking mighty fine, by the way. Well, there's no need to chronicle more of the "bullshit." Just know that I was left in a bad way as a result.
My days at Chaos Manor are numbered. Yet, I have not decided upon a day to move out. Frankly, I am not at all excited about moving to Waimanalo. It is out in the middle of nowhere. In addition, commuting by bus will be both challenging and taxing. The landlord's place is about a half-mile from the bus stop. So, that will be a laborious walk in either the hot sun or pouring rain. I have no other options because I simply let time run out.
At least I have started to pack up what little material possessions that I own. Moving out of Chaos Manor should only take about five minutes. I plan to post to the "blog" daily until the move. Or, maybe I will wait until I exhaust the archived collection of hottie pictures. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!
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