WARNING: CONTAINS COARSE LANGUAGE
9 NOVEMBER 2018 to 16 NOVEMBER 2018 – WAIKIKI
I’m off to Hawaii!
For the first time. Doing nothing for a week – 6 hours away – 8 hours if you count the airport security checks.
“Sir, you’ve been randomly selected for x-ray screening. Do you have any problems with that?”
The only answer is, “no.”
“No.”
Cell phone airplane mode. Disconnection is about to connect me with reality.
The end of my day is upon me. The flight should be filled with empty thought, perhaps a movie on the Air Canada App, and then, dreamland.
My row-mate seems nice. First impression: he’s going to retreat into his own world. App fired up. Doesn’t work. Rebooted. Doesn’t work. Rebooted. Doesn’t work. 30 minutes later.
“Hello, my name is Paul.”
I’m exhausted.
5:30 minutes later we began our descent to Honolulu. 5:30 minutes straight of conversing while I teetered on the edge of comatose brought on by near-crippling exhaustion. The conversation flowed freely. Paul is a dancer. Paul has put on major Polynesian themed dance routines on major cruise lines. Paul has travelled much of the world throwing lavish events. Paul has done well for himself. Paul helped 5:30 fly by. Thank you, Paul.
“Lindsay, how are you getting to your hotel?”
“Walking.”
“No.”
“I’ll figure something out.”
“Don’t fret it, I’ve ordered a van. I’ll get you to your hotel.”
Checked in by 1 AM, I went for a short stroll to drink in the salty Waikiki air, tomorrow I planned on relearning how to relax, stop, breathe!
For the first time. Doing nothing for a week – 6 hours away – 8 hours if you count the airport security checks.
“Sir, you’ve been randomly selected for x-ray screening. Do you have any problems with that?”
The only answer is, “no.”
“No.”
Cell phone airplane mode. Disconnection is about to connect me with reality.
The end of my day is upon me. The flight should be filled with empty thought, perhaps a movie on the Air Canada App, and then, dreamland.
My row-mate seems nice. First impression: he’s going to retreat into his own world. App fired up. Doesn’t work. Rebooted. Doesn’t work. Rebooted. Doesn’t work. 30 minutes later.
“Hello, my name is Paul.”
I’m exhausted.
5:30 minutes later we began our descent to Honolulu. 5:30 minutes straight of conversing while I teetered on the edge of comatose brought on by near-crippling exhaustion. The conversation flowed freely. Paul is a dancer. Paul has put on major Polynesian themed dance routines on major cruise lines. Paul has travelled much of the world throwing lavish events. Paul has done well for himself. Paul helped 5:30 fly by. Thank you, Paul.
“Lindsay, how are you getting to your hotel?”
“Walking.”
“No.”
“I’ll figure something out.”
“Don’t fret it, I’ve ordered a van. I’ll get you to your hotel.”
Checked in by 1 AM, I went for a short stroll to drink in the salty Waikiki air, tomorrow I planned on relearning how to relax, stop, breathe!
My friend Gary returned from a trip to Vero Beach Florida one week after my return from Hawaii. Gary is delightfully awkward at times – not an insult – a character plus!
As you can probably tell from my curt answers to the “How was Hawaii?” queries, I’m not much of a fan for the dribble people tend to spill when they report back to others about their travels. Going to Europe doesn’t make you cultured + sophisticated. Going to Asia (Vast) doesn’t make you an expert on how Asians live, if you even understand, the geographical vastness + diversity of the continent. And, going to the States, might just make us all a little bit--
At least the current states of affair, created by perhaps a devolving moral barometer.
“Gary, how was Vero Beach?”
As you can probably tell from my curt answers to the “How was Hawaii?” queries, I’m not much of a fan for the dribble people tend to spill when they report back to others about their travels. Going to Europe doesn’t make you cultured + sophisticated. Going to Asia (Vast) doesn’t make you an expert on how Asians live, if you even understand, the geographical vastness + diversity of the continent. And, going to the States, might just make us all a little bit--
At least the current states of affair, created by perhaps a devolving moral barometer.
“Gary, how was Vero Beach?”
“A lot of flying?”
Vero Beach is 5,145 KM from Vancouver.
Seriously Gary, a lot of flying.
“Gary.”
“Yes, Lindsay.”
“I googled directions to Vero Beach, walking would have taken you 1,056 Hours.
Before I dive back into LAUGH, bear with me for an off-tangent moment. A friend brought to my attention a Personal Ad from a dating site:
Vero Beach is 5,145 KM from Vancouver.
Seriously Gary, a lot of flying.
“Gary.”
“Yes, Lindsay.”
“I googled directions to Vero Beach, walking would have taken you 1,056 Hours.
Before I dive back into LAUGH, bear with me for an off-tangent moment. A friend brought to my attention a Personal Ad from a dating site:
Ripped from I SAW YOU.
I am a M – I’m looking for a M
It was a dark night, but I saw you. Your bike had no lights, but I saw you. You wore a black hoodie and dark pants, but I saw you. I saw you, because your belt was too loose, and your buttocks gleamed under my front light as you cut me off.
I am a M – I’m looking for a M
It was a dark night, but I saw you. Your bike had no lights, but I saw you. You wore a black hoodie and dark pants, but I saw you. I saw you, because your belt was too loose, and your buttocks gleamed under my front light as you cut me off.
Where does comedy from?
I’m not sure if buttocks can gleam?
Doe’s comedy come from poetry?
I’m not sure if buttocks can gleam?
Doe’s comedy come from poetry?
I found people I hate more, yes, “hate” more than Clipboard People and annoying cyclists. I found them during my trip to paradise—at least the perfect weather paradise of Hawaii. Seriously, bleeping perfect!
I am grateful, that in November 2018, I was able to make a trip to Oahu, setting up my home base at the Aston Beach Waikiki. A wonderful hotel right on the beach, as the name suggests.
I am grateful, that in November 2018, I was able to make a trip to Oahu, setting up my home base at the Aston Beach Waikiki. A wonderful hotel right on the beach, as the name suggests.
Day 1: I relaxed.
Day 2: I relaxed, however; the peddlers of island excursions enticed me to explore the beauties of the Island.
“Mr, do you have a moment.” I did. Relaxing had slowed my pulse to 9. “If you take this tour around the island, we promise to hit all of the major sites in one day. You can swim with dolphins, play with turtles, eat a pineapple, tackle the monster waves of the North Shore +++”
It sounded great.
“If you turn on the TV Machine in your room you will be able see some of the sights I’ve mentioned. Sites you mustn’t miss!”
“The TV Machine in my room!"
Day 2: I relaxed, however; the peddlers of island excursions enticed me to explore the beauties of the Island.
“Mr, do you have a moment.” I did. Relaxing had slowed my pulse to 9. “If you take this tour around the island, we promise to hit all of the major sites in one day. You can swim with dolphins, play with turtles, eat a pineapple, tackle the monster waves of the North Shore +++”
It sounded great.
“If you turn on the TV Machine in your room you will be able see some of the sights I’ve mentioned. Sites you mustn’t miss!”
“The TV Machine in my room!"
We both laughed. I love paradise. I decided: yes, I’m in, but I will explore on a return trip with a friend, so; I can tourist-it-to-the max with a friend for the first time, instead of “Hey, look at this, it’s fantastic—”
Could I be Mr. Thoughtful?
“Yes.”
“Awe, thank you."
Could I be Mr. Thoughtful?
“Yes.”
“Awe, thank you."
Decision made: relaxing in Waikiki, day-after-day for a week, adventures, next time.
Walking on the beach. Walking on the street. Walking my cares away.
Walking on the beach. Walking on the street. Walking my cares away.
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“Hey Mr, I have a free gift for you.”
“I’m not interested.”
“This cream will make you look younger. Don’t you want to look 25 again?”
“No, I don’t (bitch). I’m okay with who I’ve become.”
“Okay, 30, you can look 30 again. Wouldn’t you want that?”
“No, I’d have to make new friends.”
“Come into my store. I will show you the fountain of youth.”
“I’m not interested.” I followed her.
“Now sit. You have great skin, a great complexion. What do you use? Nothing? Wow, that’s probably for the best – it has saved you from applying toxins to your skin. You’re a handsome man. Let me apply this cream around one of your eyes. Only one, I want you to see the miracle. Hold this fan. It will dry the cream. Good, good, can you feel the skin tightening?”
“I can feel pain.”
“It’s working. Let me grab a mirror. Do you see the difference? I am only applying it to one side because when it activates, the results will be astounding. Come back later, and I will do the other eye. I don’t want you to—”
“I don’t see a difference.”
“The cream is super-concentrated. This bottle will last years. Could you see yourself applying this only once per week?”
“No.”
“You probably couldn’t afford it.”
Maybe I should’ve said BITCH, out loud?
One block later, different store, different clerk on the sidewalk.
“Hey Mr, here’s a gift for you.”
“I’m not interested.”
“Don’t you want to look younger? I can help you attack the deep wrinkles around your eyes, make you look twenty years younger.”
“I’m not interested.”
“Come sit with me. I will show you how.”
“Listen, I’m okay with my wrinkles. I don’t have vanity issues.”
“Your loss. You could look so much better.”
Four blocks later, different store, different clerk on the sidewalk.
“Hey, Mr, here’s gift for you. Take it. I can make you look beautiful. Don’t you want to look younger?”
“NO.”
Every day for a week, every few blocks, these vultures-of-fading-youth, prey on those of us kicking it around middle-aged — fucking up paradise, but thanks to state of relaxation I discovered — although pestering — I feel sorry for when they age.
Two days later.
“Hey, Mr,” this time a male vulture “I can provide you the fountain of youth, take this gift.”
“Stop talking to me. I walk past this store several times a day. I don’t want the fountain.”
“Where are you from, Syria?”
“You have an incredible voice.”
I turn to my right. A disheveled looking man stood next to me. Clothing tattered.
“You’re voice rocks. The best I’ve ever heard. I could listen to it all day long.”
“Thank you, for your kind words. I put this special cream on my tongue daily.”
“What…oh, you’re joking. It’s been a pleasure walking with you!”
“I’m not interested.”
“This cream will make you look younger. Don’t you want to look 25 again?”
“No, I don’t (bitch). I’m okay with who I’ve become.”
“Okay, 30, you can look 30 again. Wouldn’t you want that?”
“No, I’d have to make new friends.”
“Come into my store. I will show you the fountain of youth.”
“I’m not interested.” I followed her.
“Now sit. You have great skin, a great complexion. What do you use? Nothing? Wow, that’s probably for the best – it has saved you from applying toxins to your skin. You’re a handsome man. Let me apply this cream around one of your eyes. Only one, I want you to see the miracle. Hold this fan. It will dry the cream. Good, good, can you feel the skin tightening?”
“I can feel pain.”
“It’s working. Let me grab a mirror. Do you see the difference? I am only applying it to one side because when it activates, the results will be astounding. Come back later, and I will do the other eye. I don’t want you to—”
“I don’t see a difference.”
“The cream is super-concentrated. This bottle will last years. Could you see yourself applying this only once per week?”
“No.”
“You probably couldn’t afford it.”
Maybe I should’ve said BITCH, out loud?
One block later, different store, different clerk on the sidewalk.
“Hey Mr, here’s a gift for you.”
“I’m not interested.”
“Don’t you want to look younger? I can help you attack the deep wrinkles around your eyes, make you look twenty years younger.”
“I’m not interested.”
“Come sit with me. I will show you how.”
“Listen, I’m okay with my wrinkles. I don’t have vanity issues.”
“Your loss. You could look so much better.”
Four blocks later, different store, different clerk on the sidewalk.
“Hey, Mr, here’s gift for you. Take it. I can make you look beautiful. Don’t you want to look younger?”
“NO.”
Every day for a week, every few blocks, these vultures-of-fading-youth, prey on those of us kicking it around middle-aged — fucking up paradise, but thanks to state of relaxation I discovered — although pestering — I feel sorry for when they age.
Two days later.
“Hey, Mr,” this time a male vulture “I can provide you the fountain of youth, take this gift.”
“Stop talking to me. I walk past this store several times a day. I don’t want the fountain.”
“Where are you from, Syria?”
“You have an incredible voice.”
I turn to my right. A disheveled looking man stood next to me. Clothing tattered.
“You’re voice rocks. The best I’ve ever heard. I could listen to it all day long.”
“Thank you, for your kind words. I put this special cream on my tongue daily.”
“What…oh, you’re joking. It’s been a pleasure walking with you!”
IN THE FUTURE – APRIL 2019
I’ve returned to Oahu with a wonderful friend. We set up home once again at the wonderful on the beach, Aston Beach Waikiki. We were awed by the sights we saw after checking them out on the TV Machine and then exploring them in our rental Mustang convertible.
We brought with us a wonderful cream we invented called: IT’S INEVITABLE.
Out for a stroll on another perfect day in Paradise.
“Hey, Mr, wouldn’t you like to—?”
“Hey, thanks for grabbing my attention. Do I have a miracle product for you, a wonderful age-defying cream? We’ll be setting up shop next to each of your locations. Here’s a free sample. Come with me. Sit here on the curb. Drink in the exhaust fumes of the passing cars. Don’t you want to—” Okay, let me apply an ample amount all over your face. Can you feel it working? Let me grab a mirror. This cream will work wonders on deepening all your beauty lines. Look, isn’t it wonderful? Yes, you look ten years, maybe twenty years, older, and I must say: you’ve instantly become a whack less annoying. Preying on the middle aged, geez. We’re just trying to enjoy paradise. Anyway, leave the cream on for not one, or two, or three; for at least five days. It will harden. It will hurt a bit. But, and here’s the miracle part, after day five when you finally scrub it off, you will look exactly five days older than you are today, but you will feel twenty years younger. Could you see yourself applying this once per week?”
“No, why would—?”
“Because, it’s called life, and, IT’S INEVITABLE!”
I’ve returned to Oahu with a wonderful friend. We set up home once again at the wonderful on the beach, Aston Beach Waikiki. We were awed by the sights we saw after checking them out on the TV Machine and then exploring them in our rental Mustang convertible.
We brought with us a wonderful cream we invented called: IT’S INEVITABLE.
Out for a stroll on another perfect day in Paradise.
“Hey, Mr, wouldn’t you like to—?”
“Hey, thanks for grabbing my attention. Do I have a miracle product for you, a wonderful age-defying cream? We’ll be setting up shop next to each of your locations. Here’s a free sample. Come with me. Sit here on the curb. Drink in the exhaust fumes of the passing cars. Don’t you want to—” Okay, let me apply an ample amount all over your face. Can you feel it working? Let me grab a mirror. This cream will work wonders on deepening all your beauty lines. Look, isn’t it wonderful? Yes, you look ten years, maybe twenty years, older, and I must say: you’ve instantly become a whack less annoying. Preying on the middle aged, geez. We’re just trying to enjoy paradise. Anyway, leave the cream on for not one, or two, or three; for at least five days. It will harden. It will hurt a bit. But, and here’s the miracle part, after day five when you finally scrub it off, you will look exactly five days older than you are today, but you will feel twenty years younger. Could you see yourself applying this once per week?”
“No, why would—?”
“Because, it’s called life, and, IT’S INEVITABLE!”
CAT LADY
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I know a cat named Beatrice.
She can’t have kittens, but she lives in a house full of cats.
She’s the ultimate cat lady!
She can’t have kittens, but she lives in a house full of cats.
She’s the ultimate cat lady!
It had been a long time since I spent time with the entire G family, probably 10 or 15 years. Two of the G brothers and I worked at a rocking Keg Steakhouse in Regina—our time together mostly a liquid blur. Swilling liquids led to a strong bond. Mrs. G, their mother, reminds me every time I see her that she needs to wash my mouth out with soap. Her reasoning stems from a phone conversation I had with one of her sons where I pleaded him to play tennis with me on a gloriously sunny prairie day. My pleading consisted of a five-minute rant consisting of a certain “f” word being the only word used with Mrs. G listening in on the other line.
I plead entrapment.
The years slipped by, and now, in August 2017, the G clan came together in Vancouver. They asked me to join them. We reminisced about the past and caught up on where life had taken us. Mrs. G pulled out some liquid soap.
Time to part company arrived.
KG asked me, “Seed, do you have a girlfriend?”
“No, I’m fine.” I replied.
KG fired back, “What are you, gay or something?”
No words.
I plead entrapment.
The years slipped by, and now, in August 2017, the G clan came together in Vancouver. They asked me to join them. We reminisced about the past and caught up on where life had taken us. Mrs. G pulled out some liquid soap.
Time to part company arrived.
KG asked me, “Seed, do you have a girlfriend?”
“No, I’m fine.” I replied.
KG fired back, “What are you, gay or something?”
No words.
WORDS.
And now for a little bit of OR SOMETHING.
I decided recently to get a tattoo. On my penis.
My original design consisted of a drawing of a grain elevator with SASKATCHEWAN WHEAT POOL in the largest possible font written horizontally down the elevator.
And now for a little bit of OR SOMETHING.
I decided recently to get a tattoo. On my penis.
My original design consisted of a drawing of a grain elevator with SASKATCHEWAN WHEAT POOL in the largest possible font written horizontally down the elevator.
The tattoo artist couldn’t find a font large enough, or something along those lines.
And besides--
I teetered with the idea of tattooing a Shampoo bottle with Pert written on it—on my junk.
Finally, I settled: SHAW CABLE.
Would you like to change channels?
How many OR SOMETHINGS’ does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
What are you, gay or something?
No, I have a big dick.
And besides--
I teetered with the idea of tattooing a Shampoo bottle with Pert written on it—on my junk.
Finally, I settled: SHAW CABLE.
Would you like to change channels?
How many OR SOMETHINGS’ does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
What are you, gay or something?
No, I have a big dick.
25 revelers were well-fed and watered in my 500 square foot pad. The music kicked. Gleeful frivolity was had by all. Two turkeys and a ham didn’t stand a chance. Gobble, gobble, Beetlejuice.
A long table replaced my bed—with the bed stuffed in the 20 square foot hallway.
“Where’s your bed?”
“The table’s the bed. My Other and I sleep on the table now.”
“Oh.”
“We perform an Off-Broadway Play nightly.”
“Go on.”
“Seven people sit around the table. My Other and I lay naked under the cover. The seven people are served drinks and food by our crack serving staff. The play is all improve. It starts with the guests unwrapping us. Then they—”
“Oh my, it sounds fantastic.”
“It is. They do whatever they like with us.”
“Whatever?”
“Yes, whatever. We’ll know when our run is over when the night comes where after we’re unwrapped, my Other looks into my eyes and says, “Oh fuck, cannibals.” ”
What are you, gay or something?
Isn’t that your third wife?
A long table replaced my bed—with the bed stuffed in the 20 square foot hallway.
“Where’s your bed?”
“The table’s the bed. My Other and I sleep on the table now.”
“Oh.”
“We perform an Off-Broadway Play nightly.”
“Go on.”
“Seven people sit around the table. My Other and I lay naked under the cover. The seven people are served drinks and food by our crack serving staff. The play is all improve. It starts with the guests unwrapping us. Then they—”
“Oh my, it sounds fantastic.”
“It is. They do whatever they like with us.”
“Whatever?”
“Yes, whatever. We’ll know when our run is over when the night comes where after we’re unwrapped, my Other looks into my eyes and says, “Oh fuck, cannibals.” ”
What are you, gay or something?
Isn’t that your third wife?
