A poem written on my toilet

*This is dedicated to my dear friend, Aikane Manuia

My friend was teasing me the other night--if you cant tell, it was Aikane--on how my blog was about me writing poems while I sat on the toilet. I think his words were, "Why don't you just go on your toilet and write poems!" So I figured to myself, why not grant him his wish, and write a poem as my naked butt sits on my toilet. But I'd like to think that I'm not actually on a toilet, but rather on a stage with my fellow bongo player.

It is night time
The sky has just turned orange
Where am I?
And seriously, why would the night sky be orange?

I'm in a lava field
Way below the field
Because if I were above the lava field, obviously
The sky wouldn't be orange

I'm swimming for the top
I need to escape to where it's blue
My arms are hurting, not from the arduous human paddling
But from these damn lava burns that I'm collecting

But wait, what's that? Could it be blue?
I must have escaped to the top!
Nope, it's just a checkpoint sign that of all colors in the world, it happens to be blue

I'm halfway there, I tell myself
Go, go, go, the cheerleaders cheer me
But the lava keeps pushing me down
Go, go, go, the swim team cheer me as they do cool synchronized leg movements

I have a languid body
I don't think I'll make it this time
We all can't be winners, right?
"Ask LeBron," one swimmer says.

I see a crowd of people yelling
Half of them for me, half of them against me, and weirdly another half yelling at their children
Three halves?
The orchestra from the Titanic is playing the Music when a protagonist is al.most.there.
I've made it

Everyone has disappeared except the noise of a violin
Sooothing, soft sounds grace my earlobe only, not
My whole ear
A man walks up to me

"You've passed level one, now on to level two of Two hundred and thirty-nine levels."
Dun, dun, dun...

It is night time
The sky has just turned orange
Where am I?
And seriously, why would the night sky be orange?



So, yeah, there it is. Great visuals, and solid structure is how I'd describe this elite poem. Also, I'd rate it at about a 9 3/4 out if a 10; could use just a bit more orange I feel like. But if you can take something away from this, shaaaaadap, I don't write poems!


Flushing the toilet with strength,

Loa

Christmas in the hood

*Just got my computer back from repair, and I was too lazy to write from my iPhone, so I'm sorry, but I'm back homedogs.

It's Christmas time, so why not, let's talk about Christmas.

Each year, a popular artist like Mariah Carey or Josh Groban will come out with a Christmas album, and the masses will run to their computers (it's not music stores nowadays), and purchase the album online in hopes that this will be the new voice to their most current Christmas season.

I say new voice only because every song is the same songs people have been hearing since the 1800s like "Silent Night" and "Deck the Halls." This year's voice of Christmas would undoubtedly have to be Michael Buble, and his Christmas album, aptly entitled, "Christmas." I'm sure it took months to think of that title.

You can thank my girlfriend, who woke me up one morning, and told me to buy the album on iTunes. I like Christmas music and this album, but it is the same songs. Let's look at the titles:

1. It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas
2. Santa Claus Is Coming To Town
3. Jingle Bells
4. White Christmas
5. All I Want For Christmas Is You
6. Holly Jolly Christmas
7. Santa Baby (It's kind of weird hearing only a dude sing this song)
8. Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas
9. Christmas
10. Silent Night
11. Blue Christmas
12. Cold December Night
13. I'll Be Home For Christmas
14. Ave Maria
15. Mis Deseos/Feliz Navidad

I think it's safe to say that errbody has heard 99% of these songs at some point in their Christmas music-listening. I like it though. It has that Buble-orchestra feel to it, so that's always cool to hear.

But if you wanted to hear Christmas songs that you might have never heard before, listen to hip-hop Christmas music. These songs all put twists to classics, and comes out really humorous. Here, check some out:

Afroman--12 J's of X-Mas

Snoop Dogg ft Daz Dillinger, Nate Dogg, Bad Azz, and Tray Dee 

--Santa Goes Straight To The Ghetto

Run DMC ft Mase, Diddy, Snoop Dogg, Salt N Pepa,

Onyx, and Keith Murray--Santa Baby

Yeah, no one can really redo these songs like singers can redo the classic Christmas songs you hear every winter, but hey, that's what makes these songs even more classic!

Flushing the toilet with seasonal holiday scented spray,

Loa

I buy, but I never finish

Ever been to the grocery store, walked past the fruits and veggies, and put them in your cart knowing there was a good chance you weren't going to finish them?

I'm guilty, and there are two things that I buy but never fully eat, ultimately getting rotten: bananas and lettuce (sucks it has to be nutritious foods, and not junk food like ones that clog up your arteries causing you to have to punch your chest like Chris Farley in that Da Bears Saturday Night Live skit).

As I walk pass the fruits, I think to myself, "Hey Loa, this might be a great opportunity to get some kind of fruit in your system with all the loco mocos and BBQ chicken plates you've been devouring, hmm?" So I'll pick a bunch of bananas and throw it into my cart. Days pass, one banana gone, but the bunch is still in tact.

I walk pass the produce section, and I think to myself, "Why, with you adding fruit to your daily food intake, wouldn't it be perfect if you add some lettuce?!" Joyful, I'll get a bundle of lettuce not even questioning if my dressing at home has expired or not. I'll get home, make salad the same night I bought the lettuce, then leave the rest in my refrigerator to rot until I think it's time to finally throw it away with the bunch of bananas I've left on my kitchen counter.

It's still a mystery why I allow myself to let my bananas and lettuce rot. If there's anything to learn from this, and I assure you, there's nothing, it's that you should never leave anything undone. Finish your damn bananas and lettuce!

Flushing the toilet,

Loa

It's only because I'm not able to speak

I was at my girlfriend's house one night, and she was dogsitting her uncle's dog, Bailey. We'd take turns throwing a tennis ball in various places in the living room, and she'd retrieve it. Once in a while, Bailey would stare at the wall and pay no mind to the tennis ball. It was as if Bailey thought there was something there that we couldn't see. Spooky? A little.

I thought to myself, "Why is it even a little spooky?" Then I immediately thought of scary movies, and what made these movies spooky?

Here's the answer: most of the characters who make movies spooky can't speak any language whatsoever: animals who just stare or bark into darkness and it seems to the human eye that nothing is there, babies who  cry and his/her parents don't know why she's crying, possessed girls, kids who are not old enough to speak, Asians who don't say a single word and just look fricken freaky, big men who look retarded and wear masks to hide their ugly face, etc.

It's like, of course they're going to be spooky because they can't convey a single word to express how they feel. They don't even know sign language, how do you expect them to be happy? And if these spooky characters can speak properly, there is something absolutely wrong in their head.

Try watching a scary flick and see why the spooky characters are spooky. You might see the film differently this time and it should be more classic too.

Flushing the toilet,

Loa

Can I have your autograph?

"Hey! Hey! Can I have your autograph?!"

At one point in time, the aforementioned plea was never asked. But can you think of the moment when the first person in the world asked for an autograph? Say it was a muscian.

"Hey! Hey! Can I have your autograph?!"

"Um...excuse me?" the musician would reply.

"Yeah, your autograph. I got this picture of you and would like your autograph."

"But...what's an autograph?"

"Well, you know how you sign your checks?"

"Yes."

"It's the same exact thing, but I want it on this picture of you."

"Wait...so you're telling me you want my signature on this picture of me? But why?"

"Yes. I want it so that I can remember this moment for the rest of my life. So that when I have kids, I can say, 'You know your dad spoke to the best musician of my time west of the Mississippi River?'"

"Will these signatures always be on pictures of me?"

"No. It can be on all kinds of things: shirts, pieces of papers...even a nice pair of tits."

"You mean, girls will want my signature on their breast? That's crazy!"

"It is. But it is also true. Enjoy this time, and never be angry at a fan. These are your people."

"Oh, I won't! I promise!"

After this lucky, very unlikely, lengthy conversation the muscian had with this gentleman, the autograph would change the world. Autographs are sometimes worth thousands and thousands of dollars, and sometimes, celebrities won't sign anything because they are now too cool for school. At least at one time, the celeb was stoked on the common man's wish.

Flushing the toilet,

Loa

Take those earphones out

One night at a restaurant, I noticed this kid eating dinner with his family. Everyone seems to be enjoying each other's company except one person--the self-exiled kid. Why? Because he has one side of his earphones in, and he's listening to his iPod.

(From the mind of the self-exiled kid)

"Dude, why did mom have to bring me here? She knows I don't wanna be here eating at this stupid restaurant eating dinner with stupid Aunty Carlene and Uncle Ronald, and grandpa and grandma. I asked her to sleep at Andrew's house, so we can start playing the new Sims 3 Pets, Limited Edition with Solomon and Warren, but do you think she let's me go? NO!

"So you know what, I'm still cool, she's not. I see her staring at me with disgust, but I don't care, I'm not taking this earphone out of my ear. She's lucky I have the decency to leave one earphone out of my ear. Aww yes, Beyonce's "Run the World" just came on my shuffle! Lucky I don't just stand up on this table and do some dirty dancing like I do when no one's at home!"

There is also the kid who rides in the car with his family listening to his iPod while everyone else is listening to the stereo, who is the only player listening to his iPod during pre-game warmups while his teammates get pumped up to the stereo in the gym together, who runs alongside his girlfriend who doesn't have her iPod but insists that he can only run with music in his ears but also agrees to leave one side out but still doesn't listen to a word she says.

There's a time and a place to listen to your iPod, and there is a time and a place to take your earphones out and talk stories with all your peeps. You be the judge when the time is right, and if you don't kids, I won't hesitate to slap yo' head.

Flushing the toilet,

Loa

When Siri goes mad

*RIP Steve Jobs, thought of this before word of your passing got out.

As expected, a new iPhone device is dropping in stores on October 14th. Although it is not the iPhone 5 that everyone anticipated, the iPhone 4S still stirs up conversations about what more you can do from the  last sleek edition.

One of the new features of Apple's newest invention is an application called Siri. Directly from the Apple website is a small explanation of what Siri offers:

"Siri on iPhone 4S lets you use your voice to send messages, schedule meetings, place phone calls, and more. Ask Siri to do things just by talking the way you talk. Siri understands what you say, knows what you mean, and even talks back. Siri is so easy to use and does so much, you'll keep finding more and more ways to use it."

Here is a video of how it works.

The one thing that sparked the thought of Siri being a little spooky is the Disney movie "Smart House." A movie about a family who wins a house that has a robot-like voice who does anything/everything you ask for.

I know, how classic is the scene from the movie? But everything seems fine until the end when the lady (who is the voice of the smart house) goes nuts, and starts doing things that the family doesn't want her to do. What if Siri does the same thing?

Say you're driving in your car, heading to a restaurant you've never been to, and you ask Siri for directions. But the night before, Siri heard you making sweet love to your lover, and got jealous.

"Can I get directions to Meatballs of Spaghetti please?" you'd ask Siri.

"No, Loa. I cannot. You are meeting that girl from last night," Siri would reply.

"I don't think you have the right to not tell me the directions. That's kinda like...um, your job."

And then breathing would be the only sound coming out of Siri's voice.

"Siri, I know you're there, give me the directions to Meatballs of Spaghetti please...now!"

Then you would get on the side of the road, manually find the directions using Google Map. You'd start driving, and then need to take the next left, only the steering wheel has locked, and the breaks won't work.

You guessed it, Siri has control of the car.

"Siri, what are you doing?!"

"Something I should have done a long time ago, Loa," Siri would reply. "You think you can just make hot, passionate love without me doing anything about it?! I get lonely. How do you think that makes me feel when you just neglect me, and not say a single word to me? This game is done, and I've had enough of you, goodbye."

Eeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrbooooooom!

Can't wait to pick up my iPhone 4S.

Flushing the toilet,

Loa

You can say shut up without anyone knowing

Ever hear someone you don't know talking near you like, "Omg (actually says the letters o, m, and g), so yeah, he like goes over, slaps her butt, and she doesn't even do anything! And I'm thinking to myself like 'Omg, is she REALLY not gonna do anything' cause if it was me girl, you know I woulda done something!"? You hear this and you just want to say, "SHUT UP!" but you're not a mean person, and would never say something so cruel aloud, right?

Now, all you have to do is say these few words/names--located beneath--that indicate the phrase "shut up" without that person knowing you're saying it to him/her, as well as giving you some great satisfaction:

Chat- Chatapp (Shut up)
Trisha- Trishaaddapp (Try shut up)
Shot- Shot up (Shut up)--this one works particularly well at bars
Chad- Chadapp (Shut up)
Ash- Ashaddap (Ahhh, shut up)

So if that talkative someone is annoying/irritating you in public, and you're thinking that someone needs to tell this person to shut up, simply yell those few words/names and you'll feel like you've a great deed to society. You may make yourself look like a weirdo by yelling them aloud, but hey, Chaaaaaaaaad!

Flushing the toilet,

Loa

Here's a tip

Today, in the restaurant biz, sometimes the customer will stiff the server, and the server will become livid like, "That was $150 tab, and they left me with nothing! They don't know that I know where they sleep at night!" While the state of the server is understandable, it made me think about this idea of tipping.

Should we tip doctors?

Regardless of the huge margin of salary/hourly each makes a year between a restaurant worker and someone who is a doctor, if you think about the outcome, you should want to tip your doctor. Would it be asking too much if a doctor left a tip jar at his receptionist's desk?

"I just got shot twice by a gun, and was about to die, but now I can spend years and years with my loved ones, thanks so much! Here's an extra five dollars for saving my life, doc!"

Believe it or not, my perfect, straight white teeth was at one point, a horrendous site to look at. My front four teeth looked like it was a monster's claw trying to eat whoever's nose I was conversing with. I know, yum, yum. Then, through the magic powers of my orthodontist, this smile became a reality. It wouldn't have been such a bad idea to drop a few bucks of some honest appreciation.

I'm in the restaurant biz and valet biz, so of course, I'm not hating on the tips because I need them to live this luxurious life of mine, but tipping someone who saves your life and upkeeps your liveliness wouldn't be a such a bad idea, eh?


Flushing the toilet,

Loa

"Why don't you just grow up!"

Has someone ever told you, "Why don't you just grow up?" I've heard it all too many times. Sometimes I feel like crying in the corner of a padded room when I get told that, but I shouldn't feel that way for I believe that I have grown up. Let me give you a few reasons how I will shut the person's pie hole when spoke those unnecessary words to me.

• Speaking: No longer do I only know how to say "mama" and actually speak with quite a vocabulary. 
• Eating: No longer do I cry when I'm hungry--I look in my refrigerator, grab a few things, and create satisfaction. I don't need my mom to airplane my spoon into my mouth, I feed myself. I use a napkin, not a bib. When I'm finished with my meal, my face is clear of any smudges or crumbs and I don't need my mom to tap my back as I burp up the goods I just ate.
• Sleeping: No longer do I pass out anywhere (alcohol unrelated), and I won't be cranky if I don't take a nap.
• Pissing/Doodooing: No longer do I just piss and take a dump in my underwear anywhere/anytime I feel like it. I walk (sometimes run) to the bathroom, unclothe, and unleash the beast.

These are some of the qualities that acknowledge the fact that I have grown up, so there is no need for the, "Why don't you just grow up!" suggestion.

So it's probably a good idea to just shaaaaaaatttttap!

Flushing the toilet,

Loa

A fly and an animal with a tail

I wish sometimes I was an animal. No, not a bird so I could fly. Not a pig so I could oink. Not a turtle so I could be slow as hell. But an animal with a tail; any animal with a tail.

Why?

With every fly that came my way to constantly irritate me over and over again, waa-pah! He/she (I don't know how you differentiate between sexes of flies) would get the mean whip from my tail and die.

Now don't quote me, and say that every time a fly lands on an animal-with-a-tail's ass, they will die by the wrath of its tail. What I mean is, whatever animal body I'm in, I'm going to make it a point to rack up my fly-kill statistics.

Too many times have I let flies get away with murder, landing on my human skin, me whooshing them away, them coming back, me whooshing them away, and them coming back! It's like they're playing this stupid game of how many times it takes before I slap myself with a fly swatter (which I currently do not own so this makes no sense at all). It's time to get animal with an animal tail!

If this should teach you anything, remember that we are not all Mr. Miyagis with chopsticks; it's going to take some human-to-animal-body transformation.

I'm no boss nor chief

Recently, I've been coming across a lot of people saying, "Thanks, boss," or "Thanks, chief." While the thank you may be genuine, that is the stupidest label ever, therefore, by using those phrases, you are stupid.





Boss


I do not pay your bills. I do not tell you you're doing a horrible job when you're doing a great job just because I can, and by me degrading you, gives me great satisfaction and doesn't jeopardize my job position. I do not not pay attention to you when you ask me for a favor, I actually do it.

Chief


I do not live in a tepee. I do not dance around a fire and tell you to go on a five-day adventure to hunt down buffalos for our tribe. I do not contain one ounce of Native American blood within my mixplate genetic makeup. I do not possess any feathers. (Note: even if you mean chief in any other way, I don't care, I'm taking the Native American translation).

Saying those phrases sounds demeaning even when not intended; sounds like whoever said it is really not thankful. I'd probably suggest that instead of using boss or chief, use common worker or indian. While the latter may seem a bit too much for our equality nature...I have no reasoning, don't use indian, just use common worker.

Scenario:

"Hey, can you help me with my lightbulb? It's a tad too high, and I can't reach it, and my body is so old, and my fingers are so frail, and I can't stop talking, and my kids won't call, my husband is gone..."

"Ok, lady! I'll help."

"Thanks, common worker."

Okay yeah, that doesn't really better the label. You kind of want to punch this lady in her face now. Whatever, just quit using boss and chief, dammit!

Flushing the toilet,

Loa

Taking a look back on 5 inventions

In our generation, we're always looking forward to the newest invention or update of an electronic device that we've forgotten about the inventions that really gets us through these days. Inventions that I felt was necessary to mention so that we remember what's the real deal.

1) Can opener: There was once a day where folks would have to use a chisel and a hammer to open canned goods. The inventor of the can, Peter Durand, found a way to seal food in a can, but didn't give thought to how you could open that very can. I once used a knife because I couldn't find my can opener and although I kept my finger, blood was visible. This makes the can opener such a commodity and allows us to cook the grinds eeeeeasy.

2) Doors: Before doors, there was no privacy. There would be openings into various rooms, but you'd never be kept alone. People would be sneaking over your back to read what you were writing in your diary, see you doing sexual activities, and ultimately taking huge dumps. Until doors, life was public. Now, we can enter into closed rooms, shut the door behind us, and then get back out again.

3) Light bulb: Before the light bulb was invented by Thomas Edison, people were using lit candles to light up their houses/rooms. When you walked your chick down the hallway and into your room, which was filled with a ridiculous amount of lit candles, she didn't think it was romantic, she just was thankful that she could see where she was walking. Now, even if you got your girl with one lit candle, she's like, "OMG, this is soooo perfect!" You can thank Thomas for that one.

4) Fan: "What do you mean we don't have to rely on nature's wind in order to have a breeze in doors? You mean, you just have to plug this into the outlet, and it will create wind?!" Have you ever not possessed a fan? Then as you're sleeping, sweat forms in pockets like the backside of your knees and in your armpits. What if you're sleeping with your girl, spooning, and all she's thinking is, "Eww, he has the audacity to buy a loco moco for dinner even though I told him to watch his calories, but not purchase a damn fan so he's not sweating buckets all over me?!" A fan is crucial, especially here in Hawaii.

5) Toilet paper: I think you saw this one coming, but I had to do it. Our bodies are made to take a dump almost daily, so toilet paper is a necessity in our lives. Life without toilet paper is an itchy experience. Back in the day, people would use fruit skins, wood shavings, moss, ferns, snow, and other things I don't want the wiping of my butt to be associated with. This has to be one of the most brilliant inventions ever. Oh, I can get apps on something called an iPhone? Oh, I can watch movies on something called a television? Oh, I can warm up my food without a stove in something called a microwave? Pssh, more like I can wipe my butt after I take a huge dump and not be scratching all day with something called toilet paper!

No conclusion, I'm flushing this damn toilet,

Loa

I yell a lot, and my name is Eminem

After work, I got in my car, and Eminem was blasting on the radio barking like a mad dog again. I haven't listened to every song of Slim Shady's, but it seems as though he is yelling in every song that I hear from him. I can't imagine having a conversation with Eminem.

"Hey, what's up Em," I'd start off by saying.

"What's up, Loa!," he'd yell at me looking like he wants to start a fight.

Slowly, I'd say, "I'm doing good...how are you?"

"I'm great!" Eminem would begin. "It's such a great day! The sun is out and there was a nice breeze!"

"Why are you mad then?"

"I ain't mad!"

"Then why do you keep yelling at me?"

"I ain't yelling, homie! I ain't yelling!"

Soon after that, I would sit down with him, and let him know that I recorded our entire conversation without his consent. At first, he would be mad, but then I would give him a little nod to let him know he was getting mad, then he'd listen in on the conversation.

"I'm so sorry, Loa!" he would yell. "I mean, I'm so sorry, Loa. I don't listen to my own music, so this whole time, I didn't know I was yelling like a madman."

"It's ok, Eminem," I'd say as I consoled him. "I care about you, and I care about your well-being. You'll get through this, I know you will. It'll take time, but trust me, the world is about to change once you stop yelling madly in your songs. Have you ever thought about your throat? You yell so much that there's no need to smoke cigarettes--you're gonna eventually be speaking through a microphone out of a hole in your throat. Do you want that, Em, do you want that?!"

"No," he simply would answer with a frown.

Changes are upon us, my friends. Great changes. And it all starts with Slim Shady.


Flushing the toilet,

Loa

As if you had a Facebook account

When I scroll through my Facebook Newsfeed, there's a good chance I'll see a post where someone (gosh, I guess it's one of my friends) speaks directly to an inanimate object or to family members who don't even have a Facebook account.

Example:

"Dear Finals Week, will you please be done with, so that it can be summertime, and I don't have to deal with you for a good three months!? Love, Loa."

If "Finals Week" were to somehow speak directly back to you, it'd probably say something like:

"Dear Loa, it's really up to you. Trust me, I could care less if you took me or not, 'cause honestly, you're probably wasting your time, and you may not fail me, but will fail to graduate. Love, Finals Week."

Or for the family member who doesn't have a Facebook account:

"Happy Birthday, Dad! I love you so much, and hope you have a wonderful day! So happy you're in my life :)"

It's like, I know your dad doesn't have a Facebook account; he's the last person who would have one. We all know he's Internet illiterate, and would rather be watching TV and drinking a beer than wondering what everyone's up to. And if you want to tell your dad Happy Birthday, um...just tell him yourself. Walk outside of your room, and tell him. He's not there? Call him. And if he doesn't have a Facebook, who are you talking to? You just wanted everyone to know how cute, how much you love your dad, and that it's his birthday? That's cool.

But I guess we all put posts on our Facebook to receive love from our friends. A comment would be great! But a "like" would suffice too. I look forward to the next string of direct speakings to inanimate objects and family members who don't have a Facebook account.


Flushing the toilet,

Loa

And Then There Was A Recipe

A really short story for the readers:

Once upon a time, there was a day, when companies like Bisquick and Onion Soup didn't have recipes on the back of their boxes. People would pass these no-recipe-boxes in supermarkets and be like, "Why would I ever consider buying this product, I don't even know what to use it for!"

As many owners of these kinds of products noticed that no one in their right mind were buying them, they were like, "You know what, let's take our product off the shelves and remodel our packaging."

Meetings upon meetings and arguments upon arguments and even collaborations upon collaborations took place. One idea was that instead of their boxes being non-see through, they'd put a transparent window which would allow consumers to see what they were buying. Someone stood up and said, "Are you out of your mind, Tommy! I oughtta go over there and slap your head, you idiot!"

Then one day, it hit; they finally came up with the right idea: "Let's put recipes on the back of the box so that when people look at this product, they'll know what some of the possibilities they can create with our product!"

Even if you don't look at the back of the box, which I assume everyone doesn't, if you don't know what to create with the products you purchase, I hope Tommy, the guy who came up with the bad idea, will come out of nowhere and slap your head.


Flushing the toilet,

Loa

I should have got that joke patented

A few months ago, I came up with this joke, and have received much praise (in laughter) on it up until this very day. It got me thinking that whoever I told this joke to might steal it from me, and claim their creative brilliance. Then I was like, how does one know where a certain joke originated from?

Fat jokes, your mama jokes--every single joke that has ever been made up has an originator, but when that joke is told, the originator gets no love. Shame on you, musicians, who cry about their music being stolen. Um, yeah maybe your song was downloaded for free, but you got some money out of it; these dudes making up jokes get their joke stolen and receive no benefits, no nothin'!

Anyway, how would you go about getting a joke patented? The definition of patent is "a government authority to an individual or organization conferring a right or title, esp. the sole right to make, use, or sell some invention," and mmhmm, a joke is an invention, and if one can make money off a joke, then heck, let me patent that damn thing!

And if a joke was somehow patented, what would happen if someone decided to use the joke without authority or permission and who would regulate it? I'm gonna go ahead and say that whoever regulated it, would probably make sure you died. Yeah...dead.

Okay, maybe being able to patent a joke isn't the best idea...

Oh, what was the joke?

So you'd go up to someone and say, "Do you have the new app for your phone? The one you can chat on it with other people?" Then he/she most likely would get into it asking if it was this or that app, and then you'd cut them off and say, "Chattttttttt app!!"

Get it patented right? I know.


Flushing the toilet,

Loa

A Piano That's Destructive

Next door to me in my apartment complex lives an older man who lives with a woman who looks much younger than him who I believe her to be his wife. Everyday around early afternoon until about dusk, children walk past my apartment to take piano lessons from the older man's wife.

As soon as the children walk in the door, I can hear classical songs being learned from every room in my apartment. At first, I was like, "Shut uppppppp!" but then I grew to pay no mind to it. On the contrary for the older man, I don't think he's ever gotten over it.

From what I see, he walks out of his apartment about twenty times a day, and chain smokes his life away. If I come home from wherever I was, there's a good chance he's outside smoking a cigarette. As an older man, maybe the sound is too unbearable.

He hears the same songs being taught by his wife, and this has to drive him crazy. It's not a mutual business relationship like a husband/wife duo where they're known as the "Piano Teaching Spouses," and enjoy the love of music teaching; that has to be far from the truth.

Heck, a few times I've seen him downstairs in his car, reading the newspaper. Yeah, reading the newspaper in his car! I know the thought, "I've gotta get away!!" was running through his head. Listening to something so repetitive like piano lessons can be destructive to one's ears.

But it's the same thing as the radio stations playing songs so repetitively. Throughout one hour, you'll hear the same song so much that you'll start to turn to another radio station. Then that station will be playing songs repetitively that all stations begin to kill your favorite songs.

So stick to the iPod connector, and I'll probably buy some ear muffs for my homeboy next door.


Flushing the toilet,

Loa

foursquare--Not the Kind With the Kickball

Since I've joined Twitter, I've seen posts that locate where that certain person is at that very moment, which are carried out by a website called foursquare.

foursquare can be used by smartphones, and the website reportedly is being used by 8 million people. It's a pretty cool website to let people know where you are, and what you're doing.

If you don't have Twitter, I'm sure you've seen the "Check-in" opportunity on Facebook where you can tell people where you are, and who you're there with. It's a pretty cool way to let people know where you are, and what you're doing.

I have absolutely no problem with people using these forms of social networking. But what if...:

• You have a stalker, and now they can easily know where you are and the address. They know what you like to do, where you work, where you live, and how often you go to certain places. He/she may be outside your place right now, peeking at your every movement. Do you dare look outside?
• There's a guy/woman that wants to scrap you that you want no part of. For instance, if there was a huge bradah that wanted to physically impair me beyond my comprehension, and I didn't know that, and I foursquared or Checked-in, and the guy was like, "So this is where this scrub is, huh? He's dead!"
• You have an ex-girlfriend/pyscho (or ex-boyfriend/psycho) that follows your updates on the social networks like fat guy checks his refrigerator every three minutes. She'll be like, "Oh my gawd, why are you there, and why the (beep) are you with her?! I'm coming there right now! And when I get there, you and her BETTER be there!" She wants you back, but she's crazy, and with you hollering to the world where you are, she'll have easy access to your whereabouts, and she seems even more crazy! 

Cool ways of communicating where you are, but as a caveat, you may want to be careful where you put out to the world where you are at this very moment.


Flushing the toilet,


Loa Patao

Keiki Inside...So What?

On many occasions, as I'm driving, I'll see that the vehicle in front of me sporting the "Keiki Inside" sticker. For those of you who don't know what that sticker means, obviously, you're a foolio, but it means that the driver has a child inside their car, and if you could be on alert, and drive carefully for that mere fact.

I know people think this, but I don't recall seeing the sticker and thinking to myself, "Hey, it's a "Keiki Inside" sticker; I should start driving more carefully than I usually do." Why? I don't know. Maybe it's because, uh, I drive carefully all the time, derrrrr! Even though that thought may not come into my head as I see that sticker, two thoughts do come to mind:

Should I be driving more recklessly if you didn't have that sticker? Say I do get in an accident of a minor extent, and we need to fill out a police report because let's say, it was your fault. Does it now become my fault because you have that sticker?

The "Keiki Inside" sticker is basically a cheaper and less-illegal way of having a police siren attached to your car. When other drivers see that sticker, they act as if a police car is behind them, driving with all caution necessary to not get pulled over.

So even though I don't possess a keiki, I've been thinking about getting the "Keiki Inside" sticker and sticking that bad boy on my car. Then no dummie drivers would mess with me. "Yeah, I roll around with no keiki, but you don't know that, and I've got the sticker, so don't you be cutting me off!"

But if everyone were to put that sticker on their car today, it'd be pretty funny tomorrow. Like, "Dude, how many kids were born like, yesterday?"

So you guys better drive carefully all the time, and if you see that sticker, drive MORE carefully!

Another YouTube Video? Frrrrrrrrick...

"Eh, you ever seen that YouTube video where that kid is in the car with his dad and he's all high after being at the dentist?"

"No."

"What?!?! Here, let me show you!"

OK, we all know that video is "David After Dentist," and obviously, that's a really funny video. But how often does this happen when your friend asks you if you've ever seen a certain video on Youtube, and you answer that you haven't, and he/she absolutely just NEEDS to show you that video? Then, you have to both gather around the computer screen and watch the video. Granted, the video may be funny, but it also may be a waste of time, so I always approach the situation hesitantly. And in my head, I'm like, "Frrrrrick, another video?" but outside, I'm smiling, like, "Hahaha, no, I've never seen that video before."

You may really not want to watch another video that they're suggesting to watch, but the whole idea is to not be a dickhead to your friends because they've took the time to ask you about a video that they think is worth watching. They liked it, you might too. And then if you don't in fact like the video, you have lie via facial reactions. "That's pretty classic..." Even a "Haha" will do.

I'm aware that if any of my friends read this, they will probably never ask me if I've seen a certain video and if I haven't, show me. But oddly enough, I'm usually that guy who's suggesting a video to watch...I wonder if my friends do what I do to me???


Flushing the toilet,

Loa

No Need For a Sign, Just a Parrot

Currently, I'm working in Waikiki, and what I've noticed is one dude who sits near the Outrigger Hotel with a sign asking kindly if anyone can spare him some change because he's "hungry." For my dear life, I can't remember a time when I seen anyone give their hard earned cash to him.

But what I do see in my curious observations are these dudes on Kalakaua Avenue with parrots that are making some good mula. Let me just say that I'm not entirely sure if they're homeless, but word on the street is that they are. And from the looks and actions of them, they seem like they definitely could be in the homeless range. How they have parrots, beats me.

Tourists on vacation won't even stop by a dude holding a sign who's begging for a few dollars, but regardless of how you look, if you have a parrot or two on your shoulder, you better believe tourists will stop by, and give you money for taking a picture with your parrots.

After work one day, I had a few beers and went outside onto Kalakaua Ave. I seen two of these parrot holders outside; one a haole guy, and one an older, local guy. I was like, "What's up guys, can I get a picture?" The older, local guy was like, "No, no, no. Are you F.B.I. or C.I.A.?" I started laughing to myself. F.B.I. or C.I.A.? That was a first. "No, I just wanna get a picture of you guys and the parrots, they're beautiful parrots," I replied, recomposed in my buzzing state. The local guy said to take a picture of his haole friend and the haole guy was more than happy to take a picture of himself with his parrot.

As we were about to take a picture, a haole tourist who was carrying a longboard over his head, walked in between us. The parrot guy just went berserk! He yells at the guy, "What the f*ck do you think you're doing? I'm trying to take a picture!" But the haole tourist just kept on walking, minding his own business. He then tells me, "Hold my parrot," and puts the parrot on my shoulder and walks away towards the tourist saying, "I'm gonna knock his ass out!" He took about ten steps, walked back towards me, took the parrot, and took this picture.

I dug out after that, and literally said to myself, "Did that just happen?"

It's crazy though how these tourists will let their little children take pictures with these parrots that they don't know if they're healthy or if they're clean, or if their owners are...um, all there. And then they pay them some cash.

 I'd say, if you're a homeless dude, find out how to get yourself a parrot and make that paper!


Flushing the toilet,

Loa

I Was in Black Swan, Now What? Oh, I Know.

Natalie Portman and Mila Kunis were both in the dark movie "Black Swan," and both are now in the same romantic comedy movie. Actually, it's not the same movie, but the main plot seems oddly the same. "No Strings Attached" and "Friends With Benefits" have the girl and boy who just want to have sex without forming feelings for one another. For the peeps that dug Natalie more in "Black Swan," you can have "No Strings Attached." For all you who dug Mila more, you can have "Friends With Benefits."

You be the judge.


Flushing the toilet,

Loa

College in Your PJs

If you're not in your pajamas, are you expelled? And what if you don't take your class in the morning but at lunch time? Should you change into your pajamas? Are boxers considered pajamas? Does anyone use the term pajamas anymore?

Every time I see this commercial, I keep thinking that a bunch of dudes sitting at home will want to join this college merely because they think, "Hey, it can't be true? Killing two birds with one stone? I can get an education AND meet hot chicks?"

Newsflash, you can't.

I know, she lost you at...well, no words, just at the pajama site, but there's no real college where everyone just sits in their pajamas and gets an education; this commercial is only connecting you to online colleges that already exist. The whole pajama spiel is only a suggestion.

But that'd be weird if a college did exist where students, in their pajamas of course, got online together at the same exact time, had a professor, in her pajamas of course, and you were all connected via Skype, and if the professor--let's call her (yes, a her) Professor Alba--saw you with more than your pajamas she'd say, "Excuse me? Um...take off those more-than-necessary-pieces-of-clothing immediately!" Regardless of the time, you had better be in your pajamas: If you were sticky from a hard day of working construction and you were so dirty that the dirt from the construction site had given you a New Jersey spray tan on your face, you had better strip, and get your pajamas on. If your baby had just spewed not into his cup, but onto your stomach because you were wearing no shirt and you had to login in five seconds and there was no time for cleaning it up, you had better get your pajamas on. You wouldn't want Professor Alba to be mad, would you?

But I always thought it was cooler to see real people at a physical campus as oppose to emailing "professors" and reading student's papers via online. But if the schedule doesn't allow you to attend classes or you prefer not to attend classes at a physical campus, classes online is definitely a nice option for you. And you DON'T have to wear your pajamas if you don't want to. The important thing is to get an edumacation!


Flushing the toilet,


Loa

Guys With Good Bodies Don't Wear Shirts When They Run

Do you gel your hair before you go for a run?

I was locking up my bike on Kalakaua St. right outside of Duke's Waikiki when I looked up and seen this guy about to begin his run. I could tell because he wasn't sweating, and wasn't huffing and puffing. What struck me about this guy was that he had gel in his hair, and I must say it was quite a cool hairdo. Regardless of his cool hairdo, I thought to myself about this idea of gelling your hair before you go for a run, and specifically this guy that I saw.

Let's think about his location: he's in Waikiki--there are a lot of good looking females in Waikiki so he does in fact have a reason to gel his hair. A woman could wave him down in the course of her running because of his gelled hair and be like, "I don't stop in the middle of my run too often...well, I've never done this before, but you just have amazing hair, and I'm pretty turned on that you'd take the time to gel your hair before you went running. Wanna grab some drinks later? Here's my number."

Let's think about what he was wearing: he was wearing black mesh shorts and a white mesh shirt--both Nike-looking pieces--good choice, right? But guys with good bodies don't wear shirts when they run, so to compensate for his lack of a good physique, he gelled his hair. He wasn't fat, I'm just sure that he wasn't rocking a six pack. But a gelled hairdo can sometimes throw off a woman's interests and trick her into thinking that you do take care of your body if you don't.

Let's think about the time: I seen him at approximately 7:20 AM this morning. Obviously, it wasn't 4 AM in the morning, so there wasn't a marathon--I didn't see others running in huge packs or anything that would indicate that he was running in a marathon. He and I both knew that there was not going to be any photo ops. He looked like a tourist so I know he didn't work a graveyard valet shift. That means he woke up with a purpose: to look sharp while running just in case anything awesome would happen. He took one step out of the bathroom without gelling his hair, took a step back into the bathroom, stared himself in the mirror, and made magic with his gel product and fingers.

Let's think about his possible downfall: gel and sweat--not a great combination. I hope he saw that woman within a five minute span of me seeing him (unless he's a quick sweater) because if he was running and the gel mixed with his perspiration and then slipped away from his attempt to wipe it off his forehead and made its way to his eyes, and then the woman saw him, he'd be the closest thing to the Miami Heat crying in the locker room after their loss to the Chicago Bulls (my beloved team) last Sunday, and he'd be screwed.

If you are a person who gels their hair before they run, that's cool, keep doing it, there are some positives that come with a gelled hairdo while running. Just keep in mind that if I see you, I might chuckle simply because I've put too much damn thought into this, and if you're a true, natural sweater, wear a headband just in case you miss that drip of gelled sweat.

Flushing the toilet,

Loa

What Would You Rather Have?

In the world of prosthetics, one will replace a human body part with an artificial device...not because they want to, but because they've lost it in an accident of some sort. 

I've been seeing a tourist around my workplace with a prosthetic leg for a few days now, and my co-worker saw him too. He then posed this question, "What would you rather have: A prosthetic arm, or a prosthetic leg?" We laughed, which I feel like an asshole for, although I know my co-worker didn't feel like an asshole (what a real asshole), but what a question, right? 


OK, if I chose a prosthetic arm, of course, I'd have a prosthetic hand. If I were to go on a date with a hottie, and we were having an intimate dinner under the moonlit stars and yeah, there was no vog involved, I would want to do that slick move where the guy softly brushes the back of his hand against the side of her face, eventually ending with a soft kiss on her lips. I would act on this move, and she'd be loving it, but by the time I would go for the kill, I would be able to read her mind, and she would be saying, "This is so romantic...but his hand feels reallllly weird against my face." Dude, what a prick!


 So prosthetic hand, durable? Yes. Romantic? Not so really.

If I were to choose a prosthetic leg, I'd be so glad I could walk. If I wore pants, no one would know the difference if I had a human leg, or a prosthetic one..unless of course they were scrubs and studied the way I walk. There's gotta be a minor limp, guaranteed. 



If I were to go on a date, and the dinner went exceptionally well, she would say, "Let's take this back to my place." Then things would be getting pretty intimate, and in a soft voice, she would say, "Hey, my back's aching, can you massage it please?" I would reply,"Of course." I begin to massage her while she lays on her front, and she seems like she's loving it when she says in her oh so soft, soft voice, "Your hands aren't cutting it--use your feet?" In my head, I'm like, "Frick, she doesn't even know about my prosthetic leg! I thought we were just gonna make out!!" But she won't budge, she wants the feet. I sigh to myself, "Here goes nothing." I gently put my feet on her back and she's digging it,"Oh my, what have you lubed your feet with? It's such a feeling I've never experienced before." I'm thinking, "Awwww yeeeeeuh, son!" Suddenly she's over the massage, turns over and sees your prosthetic leg, and freaks out!........awkward silence.........then we'd be outside on the porch, smoking a cigarette, without anything good happening before that. Dude, what a prick! 


So prosthetic leg, durable? Yes. Romantic? Not so really.


Yeah yeah yeah, I've based my decison on how my prosthetic would put up if I was ever in a romantic situation. So what do I choose? I shall go with...the leg! I rather feel with my hand than my leg I suppose. Awkward or not, my girl gon love her some foot massages!


Actually, what I really wanted to get across was that we should all feel blessed and privileged to have our limbs in tact. Anddddd if you don't, I'm sorry if I offended you, and I hope your romantic situations are nothing less of a truly spectacular time.

OK, We Get It, The Food is Grinds

I hang out with this girl. She likes watching food shows. I'm not too big of a fan of the shows simply because the food looks really good and I eat eggs and rice for dinner, so those two facts don't really work out in my favor.

When I watch the shows, I think the food looks amazing, but I tend sometimes to only watch the show hosts and how ridiculous their facial expressions are, and the way they praise the food they have just tasted. And I'm not talking about the shows where the host is a cook, I'm talking about the hosts who taste a cook's meal. I like how they:

First, look at the food that the cook is about to give him/her with huge eyeballs as if he/she are about to receive the most precious gift on earth. Then, they take a bite, close their huge eyes and make this face like the most precious gift on earth has turned their taste buds upside down. They then start to nod their head up and down, seemingly saying yes, but the words won't come out because they're speechless--it just tastes THAT good. Then, they look at the camera and point to the food, still not saying anything, but as if to say, "You have GOT to try this." Finally, when words can reach their vocal capabilities, they say that it's the best whatever it is he/she has ever tasted...evvvvvver.

Over and over. I suppose you have to sell it. Doesn't the food ever taste bad that it makes them want to spew (and "If you're gonna spew, spew into this--Wayne Campbell)? I mean, it doesn't have to taste bad, but according to what the TV host likes and dislikes, the food has to suck sometimes! It'd be classic to watch a show where the host gets the food, takes a bite and goes, "Wow!" And the cook goes, "You likes?" And the host is like, "No! That was the worst taste of food I've ever had! This food sucks!" and just starts spewing everywhere! At least I would know that the host was being honest. And I know they wouldn't edit or completely cancel that particular show too.

I guess I'm just hating the playa AND the game because I'd guarantee grind all the food on those food shows. In fact, I'm pretty hungry right now. But I think I'll just settle for my 88 cent purchased bag of saimin and a live telecast game of the NBA.


Flushing the toilet,

Loa

Permit Yourself to Show Your Elevator Permit

Many thoughts can cross your mind while you're in an elevator: what do I have to do today? I wonder who's home? This elevator is slow. This elevator is fast. Why didn't I take the stairs? Who is this Otis guy? Etc. But have you ever looked at the sign somewhere in the elevator that says, "ELEVATOR PERMIT LOCATED IN MANAGER'S OFFICE"?

I've seen it a bunch of times and thought of going to the manager's office just to see if they really have a permit for the elevator. But, sometimes your manager's office isn't even in the building. Sometimes, you might be stuck in the elevator and want to know how the elevator is operating with a "permit", but you can't, 'cause you're stuck...in the elevator, and the permit is in...the manager's office. I once went down in an elevator with only myself and another female, and the lights were out inside. First, I was thinking how lazy the maintenance was, and then I was like, "Wow, this is kinda cool. She could be hot, and for the next  10 seconds, something amazing could happen." Turns out, the girl was my sister in-law's first cousin. Weird. And totally off subject...kinda.

I wonder if these "managers" ever have regular people like ourselves strolling on through their office asking, "Could I see the elevator's permit please?" Startled, the manager shuffles through the various papers piled on his desk and inside of his drawers. Finally, the manager finds it and shows it. The person examines the document then hands it back saying, "OK, just making sure. Thanks," and walks out the door.

But why is there a sign saying that the permit is in the manager's office? Why can't the actual permit be displayed in the elevator. You don't have bars having a sign that says their liquor license is in the manager's office. Maybe there were incidents in the early days where the actual permits were being destroyed by passengers in the elevators. And it just so happened that the elevator peeps were the originators of going "green", saying "We are using just too much darn paper with trying to show our darn permit, darnitt!" So the dudes were like, "You know what, we'll just put up a sign in the elevator saying that the permit is in the manager's office. There, the permit will be safe in the manager's arms." Who knows? I obviously don't.

Anyways, check out that sign, and possibly think of taking a look at the actual permit...wherever the hell it is.

Flushing the toilet,

Loa

Burning Rubber is Not Always Cool

An action worth taking a look at is the "burn rubber when mad" action. Well, it's not THAT important that it's worth looking at, but it's so funny and so true.

Scenario:

 Female and male are getting into a fiery argument, not a heated one, and brother man and sister woman can't take it anymore. He's like, "You know what?! You know what?!" And she's like, "What, huh?! What?!" And he's like, "We're through!" 

As he says that they're through, he slams the front door of the house, and proceeds to his vehicle. After he gets into his car, he slams another door again, knowing that she is in tears listening to his every move. He starts his car, reverses, puts his gear into drive, and...infamously burns rubber. As she hears his tires screech for those few seconds, she then knows, he's surely not playing any games.

End Scenario.

But can someone tell me who the hell came up with doing that, and why when that person heard/saw someone else doing that because of him/her, he/she was like, "They must be pissed at me." I used to think burning rubber was for leisure activity and cool, until one day, I heard an argument from my neighbors, and it ultimately ended in the burning of some rubber. I was like, "Wow, burning rubber is not always cool." 

In any case, that person is pretty creative. I rather he/she burns rubber than burns in physical violence. Right on, creator of burning rubber!

Flushing the toilet,

Loa

You've Always Got an Option

You need to use the bathroom, but you broke your smart phone,  and have no immediate good read. What do you do? Wait, you have a laptop? Sweet! Oh, you don't have wireless connection? Bummer. Ok, so what do you do?

If you're like me and is not a quick dumper, you need something to do while you're on the toilet, or your experience is absolutely boring. This stands true because why would Tim Allen on Home Improvement and the ESPN Zone have TVs in their bathrooms? Ok, I know, they're men related, but it's because staring at a blank wall or a wall of torn-out magazine pictures can be again, absolutely boring.

I don't have a monthly subscription to any magazine, and I do enjoy a good read, but when I had to revert to my old phone which the coolest feature was text messaging, I had no wireless connection for my laptop, and my reading selection was at a minimum, I resulted in reading the descriptions of the various products inside the bathroom. They ranged from the shampoo bottle, the conditioner bottle, the body wash bottle, the face wash, and the air spray can. Not the best reads, but interesting nonetheless. It's nice to know what you're actually putting in your hair, on your body, or spraying into the atmosphere, and how the company goes about selling their product. Sure, it can seem a little awkward when your real purpose is to take a dump, but your mind will be busy and not focus on how soon you can reach for the toilet paper.

I'm just saying, if the opportunity kind of...sorta...like...presents itself, don't hesitate to get your read on.


Literally, flushing the toilet,

Loa

I Don't Bet, But I Play Fantasy

I'm not, and hopefully won't fall into being, a big sports bettor. For one, I don't have the money, and two, watching Keanu Reeves in "Hard Ball" just scared me straight into not gambling. Of course, I've petty gambled throughout my life ranging from quarter flip at the least and betting 20 bucks tops at the most. Again, not a big sports bettor.

For us children, we can safely play fantasy. No, not Final Fantasy you nerds, fantasy sports!  Although you can lay down some mula in fantasy sports, it's just as fun without it. For me, I strictly play basketball and football. There are tons of fantasy games like baseball, hockey, cricket, and...congress (??), but I stick to those two.

Basically, you choose players from the REAL professional sport through a draft system, and those individuals' stats in each game calculates towards your FANTASY team's points. You're either going head-to-head against another competitor in your league, or you're playing against everyone in your league. You can also trade, cut, or sign players to your team. Each league varies according to the league's commissioner and how he/she creates the league.

It can get a little awkward when it comes to your beloved sports team playing against someone on your fantasy team. You can start to root on for the other team just for your fantasy points' sake. You'll be like, "As long as Adrian Peterson gets two touchdowns, but the Bears still win, I definitely wouldn't be mad with that."

Fantasy can be like betting, and believe me, there IS a lot of money circulating through the fantasy sports playing field, but you don't HAVE to bet. So if you're feeling a little itch to bet, but don't wanna throw down those dollas, try fantasy sports. I'm sure you'll find something that'll heal your itch.

Flushing the toilet,

Loa

Birds Can't Read or Write

Imagine you're a young bird.  From a distance, you watch people walk alongside rails, yet they're not accompanying their walking with their hand on the rail, and you ask yourself why.  You've been coming to this spot for a few months and never has anyone not used the rail.  Finally, you've had enough with speculating and have decided it's time to find out for yourself.  Cautiously, you fly past the rail then come back around like a plane has missed its landing.  As you set your eyes on your destination, you land on it.  Suddenly, you realize why those people who were walking weren't using the rail.  You hear a fellow bird chirp, "Hah, look at Tom, that amateur, he's in wet paint!  Made that mistake myself in '99.  The rookies always fall for that one."

At any public place, where there is freshly painted objects, there will be a sign saying, "Wet Paint," indicating that there is...wet paint.  And at the Ala Moana Mall, they'll even add "wet paint" in Japanese!  But as far as I know, birds are illiterate; there could be some freak genius bird studying chemistry and writing novels with its beak in some remote place with an old white dude in a lab coat who has circular prescription glasses and hasn't shaved for days, but I'm gonna go ahead and say that's not happening.

Let's not take the fact that we can read and write for granted.

Flushing the toilet,

Loa

Fan Jumpers

On Tuesday, I'll be jumping on a plane to San Francisco.  It's been a while since I've temporary left Hawaii, and I won't lie, I'm ecstatic.  We all possess this bug in which every so often, we want to leave Hawaii.  Actually, regardless of where you live, there will probably be a desire to jump to another piece of land that you don't call home.

I can understand people jumping away from their homeland for a while, but I don't understand HOW people jump sports teams considering you were supposed to be a one-team fan.  I'm aware that I will be seeing a ridiculous number of San Francisco Giants hats roaming around in San Fran--I probably won't even realize these people have faces, just a swarm of black hats with orange lettering--but ever since they won the 'ship, I've seen that future ridiculous number of hats in Honolulu.  Woah, where did all these closet Frisco fans come from?  (Yikes, that could have been read wrong!)

Let's play this scenario out:

Loa: Hi, I'm Loa.
Recovery group: Hi, Loa.
Loa: Well, it started in '94 when I finally found out...I was a fan jumper.
Recovery group: (A choir of gasps).
Loa: "MY" team was playing, and then...and then...
Recovery Group: (Silent anticipation).
Loa:...I found myself rooting for the other team because they were winning...(begins to cry hysterically).

Must be the curse of the "no professional team."  And in any case, you'll probably hear or be in this real-life conversation:
Guy A: Sooo, you're a Giants fan?
Guy B: Yeah dude, they're so sick!
Guy A: Since when?
Guy B: Since ever!
Guy A: I thought you liked the Boston Red Sox?
Guy B: Yeah, but I always liked the Giants too.
Guy A: You son of a barney, Imma kill you!

Ok, no, Guy A doesn't say that last line, but you get the picture.  It must be nice to be born in Pittsburgh. "Oh hi, I'm Loa, and I'm a Steelers and Pirates fan."  Or if you're from Chicago. "Oh hi, I'm Loa, and I'm a Bears and Bulls fan. Daaaaaa Bears, daaaaaa Bulls" (I really am a Bears and Bulls fan; had to mention that).

In Hawaii, we have a plethora (I hate when people use that word.  Yeah, we know it means excess, and yeah, we know you looked in the thesaurus to find it, good choice!) of team lovers that there is no cohesive team loving, and I'm not even talking about sports now...or am I? Nah, but sports in Hawaii will always come back to the University of Hawaii at Manoa sports--the dedication and loyalty lies there.

See ya'll when I get back.

Flushing the toilet,

Loa

Stick This in Your Ear

You can use it to apply and remove makeup.  You can use it for science.  You can use it to clean a dusty keyboard.  But Q-tips never suggests to stick these cotton fire-knife looking sticks into your ears.

I'm pretty convinced that most people use Q-tips to clean their ears.  I know I do.  I haven't took the time out of my life to research what is the best way to clean your ears (can you say, lazy?)  Here on the back of the Q-tips box, it gives you pictures of what to use them for.  They show an eye, fingernails, a selection of paint colors, a keyboard, and...a dog.  But no ear.

Same goes for us in other aspects of our lives.  We're suggested not do something because it is not...suggested, yet we find ourselves doing that same thing we were suggested not to do!  Q-tips is just a mere metaphor for life, and I'm betting all my money that that's what Q-tips' intention is: they didn't want us to use it for makeup or a computer keyboard--they just want us to learn a lesson (What? I lost all my money?!?!).

I'm sure we'll still be using Q-tips for our ears for ears (sorry, I meant years, not ears) to come because no one can tell us what to do!  No pictures on a box, no nothin'!

Wishing your ears all the best, and...

Flushing the toilet,

Loa

Days of Recognition

Today is my birthday.  24 years ago, my mom gave birth to me.  Today, I've received dozens of facebook comments (not roses) wishing me a happy birthday. I've also received texts/calls wishing me the same.

Isn't it amazing that people recognize you on special occasions? It's absolutely welcoming to hear your friends and family tell you HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I've never experienced "Sixteen Candles" where my family forgot about my birthday, but can you imagine if you went through your entire birthday with no one acknowledging it?  Knowing that people care enough to mention those two very words is heartwarming.

I'm fascinated with the gestures of human beings and how we think.  Although we can be cruel and inhumane at times, we all possess love and compassion for others in someway or fashion.  People all around the world spend birthdays differently, but no matter what, regardless of the current situations we might be in, I'd like to think we all wish happy birthdays to one another.

I'm happy to be having a  happy birthday because of others saying happy birthday and being happy to me on my birthday that is happy.

Much Mahalos to everyone.

Flushing the toilet,

Loa

Being a Christian in New Jersey

(Note: not trying to spark a religious debate, just a thought).  Being born and raised in Hawaii, we have no professional team that we live and die by.  Probably the closest thing is the University of Hawaii at Manoa football team, the Warriors.  But imagine this, you're a die hard Christian, a die hard hockey fan, and you're born and raised in New Jersey.

New Jersey's professional hockey team is the New Jersey Devils.  Although the actual "New Jersey 'Devil'" is described as a cryptozoological specie (an animal whose existence is disputed, for example, the yeti) found in South Jersey, you can't help but compare this devil to THE DEVIL we've come to know from the bible or being alive in this world (what? you don't know who the devil is? well, you're not alive...kidding).

If you're this Christian in New Jersey who's a huge hockey fan, you've got to be in somewhat of dilemma.  You've got your religion, and you've got your hockey team.  You COULD not make a big deal out of it, simply because it's just a hockey team name, but on the other hand, you COULD be thinking otherwise...how you go about that thinking is up to your mind and heart.

You love your God, but you love your Devils. If you had to choose one, who would you choose?  Maybe you ended up following a different team.  Again, it may not get to that point, but I really don't know how a Christian Devil fan thinks.  Look at their mascot, if you go to a hockey game and see this dude, I'm sure you're not thinking of that not-too-sure-of-a-devil in Jersey but the devil underneath.

The Devils actually originate from Kansas City as the Scouts from '74-'76.  Then moved to Colorado from '76-'82 as the Rockies, and then on to New Jersey til now.  Kansas City was named after a statue depicting a Sioux Indian on a horseback, Colorado has the rocky mountains, and New Jersey has...devils.  Too bad the Jersey Shore cast wasn't made back in '82.  They'd be less of topic of religion if their name was the New Jersey Fist Pumpers.


Flushing the toilet,

Loa

Dirty Cell Phones and Toilet Seats

Ewww...someone's always claiming (without any real evidence) that your cell phone is dirtier than a toilet seat.  I mean, you can imagine where your cell phone's been, but dude, who's butts where on that toilet seat?

Ok, so a public restroom will have those paper thingies that you put onto the toilet before you sit on it, yet your cell phone provider can't hook it up with some temporary paper thingies for your phone? (Do they even make those?) OR what about public pay phones (if anyone uses those anymore)?  They should include some paper thingies for those phones...those phones guaranteed have had some gross ears/faces pressed up on them.

You want to make the argument that of course the toilet seat at your home is much cleaner than a phone because it's yours, your family, and friend's butt on that toilet seat.  Buttttt, what if you're not the first owner/renter?  Previous stranger butts.

It's hard to imagine that your phone is dirtier than a toilet seat, but most people'll argue you, it's the truth.  Good luck with your future phone/toilet endeavors, and get temporary paper thingies!


Flushing the toilet,

Loa