A priest and a rabbi walk into the men's locker room

A priest and a rabbi walk into the men's locker room and both their fuckin lockers are right next to mine. WTF!!! Why is it that there are 3 people in an entire locker room with over 120 lockers and all 3 of our lockers are near adjacent. Why, cruel universe ?!!?!

OK, it wasn't a priest and a rabbi. It was couple of sweaty fat dudes but you get the point. Last night's visit to the gym was so shitty that I think it added to my stress. By the time I was through, I was disgruntled, annoyed, and in a rush to get the fuck outta there. Why was I in a rush? Read on.

First off, the clusterfuck around my locker happens as I'm changing into my gym clothes. The 2 other dudes that had just finished their workout can't help that our lockers are right next to each other. It wasn't intentional; it was just a cruel twist of fate. What those homos could have done was to have a little patience and realize that all our asses could not occupy the same volume of fuckin space at the same time. (As you can see, my anger has not completely subsided. And for the sake of posterity, I risk whipping myself into a frenzy again.) So in a flurry of elbows, chaffed thighs, and bitch tits, I quickly finish changing with complete disregard for the whales that have beached themselves next to me. I give as good as I get.

After I changed, I move into the gym area to stretch. Before I continue this diatribe, realize that LA gym's are a different flavor that those in Hawaii. The people are VERY different. In general, the folks in Hawaii's gyms are much nicer. They are polite, courteous, and helpful. Most of all - they pick up their shit. They don't just drop whatever equipment they are finished with and walk off. Not so at my gym in LA. Most men here are like 5 yrs olds -when they're done with something, it's dropped and forgotten about and they move on. I have nothing but contempt and loathing for these failed abortions.

Anyway, I move on to stretch and I see an exercise mat laying around and no one using it. Well, I shift it over a bit and prepare to do my business. Just then, this short, fat, black guy says, "Hey! I'm using that!" in a not-so-friendly way. It's like he wanted fuckin reparations from me or something. This meathead that was standing so many feet away flapping his big lips was apparently using this mat. Well shit son, by that logic, he's using everything in this motherfucker. Still, I do not hold him responsible for this offense. I blame his crack whore mother for missing him with the coat hanger when he was a fetus.

At this point, I sigh and move on. I've accepted that most men in this gym are assholes with no social skills. I pick up another mat and move over to stretch by a couple of ladies. They say nothing. I say nothing. We mutually accept each other's presence and go about our business. We don't get in each other's way and by no means are we rude to one another. Much better.

I'm done stretching and I start on the treadmill. Fifteen minutes into it and I'm doing great. My form is good, my breathing is easy, and I'm thinking I can easily do the full run today. No more assholes around to annoy me or otherwise ruin my workout.

Except one.

Mine.

Yeah. The worst timing ever. I'm finally get into a groove and the kids start clamoring about being dropped off at the pool. Holding it is not as easy as it normally is. Most people sit down when their holding it. Or if they are walking over to the pot, then they do a bow-legged waddle while keeping both buttcheeks clenched. Try either of those on a treadmill. There's a lot of bouncing around; a lot of flexing and relaxing of the muscles that govern the lower extremities so it's not like I could just pucker up. All things considered, I think I did fairly well. I resisted until it was no longer prudent which was about another 15 minutes and then I got the fuck outta dodge. Hence, I left the gym disgruntled, annoyed, and in a rush.

Other things that annoy me at the gym:

• Slime trails AKA lard residue AKA beads of sweat left on equipment as a parting gift for the next person.
  
• Double wide women that walk shoulder to shoulder at a snail's pace as they leave their aerobics class. I always get stuck walking behind them and let me tell you - the view isn't pretty.
• Stinky dudes that stand in front of the fan in the men's locker room. Yes, you're hot and sweaty. Cool off by taking a dip in the toilet with the rest of the turds.
  
• Men with foot fungus that walk around barefoot and spray their feet with Tinactin spray or some such anti foot funk spray. It leaves a negative image of their diseased foot on the ground to remind you where not too step. Maybe their foot wouldn't be rotting off if they didn't walk around the locker room barefoot. Rtards.
• Male staff at the front desk that offer dick to all the women that walk in instead of scanning the membership cards of peeps that walk in as its their job. Maybe you can impress her with your 1337 bar code scanning skillz.
  

East vs. West: The Best for Breasts

A good friend of mine, Devin, showed me this map while I was in Hawaii over the holidays. It's from the February 2007 issue of National Geographic and it paints a stark contrast between the east and west when it comes to the male-female ratio. Long story short - the west is a giant sausage factory while the east is where all the yummy cream pies and pink tacos are at.


Los Angeles has the largest blue dot on that freakin' map! Hawaii is no where near as bad but it's still blue and blue is most definitely bad. Clearly, I am on the wrong side of the country.

Or am I?

True, the clubs in LA are reminiscent of the factory floor at Libby's Vienna Sausage cannery. Furthermore if National Geographic printed it, then it must be true. I mean, come on - they're a well respected publication and for many of us, the first porno mag we ever saw.


Yeah, baby. Work it!!!!!

However, don't be so quick to take this information at face value. Yes, the dot is big but the numbers represent absolute quantities, not percentages. In other words, the map claims LA has approximately 40,000 more men than women. Depending on LA's total population, 40,000 might not be a significant amount. For example, let's say that Los Angeles has a total population of 9,948,081. For such a large population, 40,000 is actually less than 1%. (0.4 % for you bean counters).

It doesn't take a genius to figure that much out so don't pat me on the back, yet. I decided to take it one step further. I wanted more data to prove that LA is not the hotbed of crossed swords that it appears to be.

Where would I go to get this data? The Federal Government!!! If you can't trust them, then who can you trust? I went over to the U.S. Census Bureau website and looked up some data for Honolulu, Los Angeles, New York, and the nation as a whole. I've tabulated some of the more interesting statistics in the table below.

I used information from the counties that the above cities reside in as opposed to just the city itself as the county information is more recent. The data for individual cities dated back to 2000 while the counties' data was compiled in 2006.

Looky! Looky! I see Nookie!

According to the U.S. Census Bureau, Los Angeles is NOT the worst when it comes to the male-female ratio. Between the three counties, Honolulu is actually the worst. (This is good news though, not great news since I still visit Hawaii every year.) New York is confimed to have the best ratio of the three. Or worst, depending on which set of genitalia you have. That's why Sex in the City was based in New York and Entourage took place in Los Angeles. It all makes sense now.

Some other interesting things I noticed:

• LA county has > 10x the population of Honolulu while New York is absolutely engorged with > 20x the Honolulu population. All those women in NY must be doin' it like rabbits. Of course, Honolulu is tiny compared LA and NY.
  
• Asians don't do well in the cold. Almost half of Honolulu's population is of the Asian persuasion. It's definitely the place to be if you're fishing for some yellow tail. Head east to find the white fish. Don't go too far as LA has more than NY.
  
• The traffic in Honolulu is bad, it sucks in LA, and its the worst in NY. Odd how the average commute time increases with the female population. *cough* women drivers *cough*
  
• The amount of housing available in each county is proportional to the population. LA has > 10x more housing than Honolulu. NY has > 20x.
• Honolulu has the highest rate of home ownership which correlates with their highest median household income.
  
• Honolulu homes seem to have the highest value. Given expensive homes exist in all three counties, I think Honolulu comes out on top because it has less low value housing to bring down its average. In other words, Honolulu has less slums and ghettos than LA and NY. This is just a guess, of course.

What have we learned from all this? National Geographic is not good porn. Also, the further east you go, the more women there are, the worse the traffic is, the cheaper the homes are. Pick your poison.

Must be this tall to ride --->

Just to break the monotony of my rants and stories, I'd thought I'd share this pic that someone linked on a message board that I visit. In other words, I don't seek this shit out. I just propagate it.



It's difficult to say but I think this ride is at Neverland Ranch. But what's a girl doing on it?

A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

Something very odd happened the other day. It was one of those things that throw you for a loop and have you wondering, "Dub Tee Eff?" Far be it for me to question God's master plan, but this just didn't seem right.

It was a cardio day at the gym for me the other day. I'm a treadmill guy nowadays. Correction - I'm an older treadmill guy which means I need to stretch before I run-in-place for the next half an hour. I grab an exercise mat and walk over to some bare floor near the cardio machines where I can get my stretch on.

Before I get down to business, I take a gander around. You know, to look for any chicks on the ellipticals that'll have a view of me stretching. If there are, then I'll hike up my shorts to show off my sexy white thighs. Oh yeah.

Sure enough, I find nothing. There's people: a older hispanic lady, a few token asians, a pair of black ladies chit chatting as they pedal stationary bikes - the typical crowd. There was also a couple of younger white-ish dudes (toasted crackas?) with faux hawks working out on the ellipticals. They were wearing some nondescript t-shirts and some basketball shorts - again, pretty typical fare.

I settle down, extend my right leg and put my head down to my knee to stretch my hamstring. With my face 2 inches from my knee, I hear the most effeminate male voice. Right away, I'm thinking: gay dude.

Now, I don't give two shits if a guy is gay. It doesn't bother me so long as I don't have to participate. In this case, I was caught off guard because I didn't notice anyone around me that looked gay.

What does gay look like? You tell me. We all know the stereotype. Gay guys dress well. It's a universal truth. They always have a more fashionable appearance than straight males no matter what the occasion. When I took stock of the local fare just before I began my stretch, I sure as hell didn't notice anyone that looked like he rode in on the hershey highway.

It turns out, it was on of the faux hawks that were dressed in plain clothes. And this is what struck me as peculiar. He was dressed like every other guy in the gym. Every other guy has zero fashion sense in the gym. Does this mean that Mr. Faux Hawk, as a gay man, has no fashion sense? That's just wrong! Wrong! It's like Yoda without the force; he's just a weird looking guy that talks funny.

A Super Hero Holiday Party

Nestled in the Nu'uanu Valley is a handsome fortress known only to a select few superheroes and all women of legal age. This hilltop perch is home to none other than the superhero, DareDevin. In his generous holiday spirit, he decided to open up his Palace of Porn and host the first ever Super Hero Holiday Party!!!
It was definitely a super pimpin good time. Superheroes from across the globe gathered at the home of DareDevin to celebrate the holidays. DareDevin is aptly named for his uncanny ability to seduce any woman with a wink of an eye. Here's a picture of him in is resplendent red cape and another superhero dressed as his alter ago, Kurt Kent.


In Kurt Kent's best interest, his superhero identity must not be revealed but suffice to say that he shoots darts like nobody's business and somehow managed to not age after high school. His only weakness, his kryptonite if you will, is rum & coke. Oddly, so is DareDevin's. He will not touch the stuff.

Just when me thinks it was safe to pick my spandex wedgie, a supervillain blew in with a chill and a hush. Whoooooosh!!!!! It was DareDevin's evil sister, Diabolical Den! As they are from the same bloodline, Diabolical Den and DareDevin have very similar powers. As DareDevin is able to seduce women, Diabolical Den is able to seduce men. Sensing the imminent danger, I leapt into action to face her head on! Here is a picture of yours truly, Gatman - The Brown Knight, choking out Diabolical Den.


As you can see, Gatman's gunz are always locked and loaded. As Gatman prepared to give her both barrels, DareDevin intervened on her behalf and informed me that she was here as an emissary for peace between the superheroes and the supervillains. Peace is good. Gatman approves.

Also putting in an appearance at the Super Shindig was Famous Fish who remarkably knows half the residents of Oahu.


Rumor has it that you can flip to any page in the phone book and he will know at least one person on that page. Truly remarkable.

Gatman's long time associate, Super Mario, was there as well. When Super Mario is not stomping on goombas or eating strange mushrooms, 'he' is actually a 'she' that goes by her alter ego Kelly. Regretfully, Gatman did not take a picture with Kelly in her Super Mario outfit. Gatman is disappointed with Gatman over this. Perhaps another superhero has a picture and would be kind enough to share it.

Also in attendance was the frisky Cath-woman, who refused to have her picture taken. At this time, it is unclear whether she is a hero or a villain.

Overall, the stupendous soiree was a super success. From that point forward, there was peace between the superheroes and the supervillains. Gatman thanks DareDevin for the invitation and hopes that there will be similar ventures in the future.

End of Hawaii '07 trip

This past Christmas vacation in Hawaii was definitely one of the better ones. It's possible that I think that of every trip right as it ends and this is the only time that I have taken the initiative to record it. In any case, I had a great time and I feel I should commemorate it with a final post from my dad's quirky computer. First of all, some rants so I don't have to end this post on a negative note.

My dad's computer has made me miss mine at home in LA. The video card is severely underpowered, there aren't any speakers, the keyboard is very spongy, and the keys stick. So much so that I have been hitting the "backspace" key like it owes me money.

The weather left much to be desired. The majority of the time, it was overcast, rainy, and a bit chilly for Hawaii. I can count on one hand how many days out of my +2 weeks here in Hawaii that the sun was out and I didn't have to worry about bringing an umbrella...ella...ella...


I got nuttin' but love for Hawaii. I grew up here. I come back every year to party and enjoy the way of life. But damnit, locals here are teh fail when it comes to drunk driving. They are the absolute worst. If drunk driving was a recreational sport, then Hawaii does not deserve to have an intramural league. I don't condone the act, but if you're gonna do it (and you shouldn't) STOP KILLING YOURSELVES AND EACH OTHER. Every year around the holidays, the number of automobile related deaths seem to increase and, of course, alcohol and speed are always related. This ultimately gets the cops all riled up and they make their freakin presence felt on the highways. I have to drive like a grandma whenever I'm there because there are so many cops on the road. Who knows, maybe its like this in every city. Maybe LA has just as many if not more automobile related deaths per capita as Honolulu but it gets less attention in LA as people there also like to shoot each other. Go fig.

All of the above pales in comparison to all the wonderful experiences I had this past trip. I wish I could have stayed another week. I got to see some new places, meet some new friends, and reacquaint myself with some high school classmates.

We spent a few nights in downtown Honolulu which just a few years ago was a haven for drugies, dealers, pimps, and hookers. Nowadays, its been cleaned up a lot but its still got a ways to go. We spent a night at the Mercury Bar which was a bit of a hole in the wall but it actually was really cool. It's got a lot of swank for an area thats got a lot of dank.

I finally got a chance to check out Bar 35 and Next Door. Again, both are very swanky places. A couple of times Next Door was having an 80s night which was pretty cool, surprisingly. The only problem was I had no idea how people danced in the 80s. I don't think the people from that decade did either. Bar 35 was a much more chill atmosphere with a pimpin patio in the back. I'd definitely go back to either of these places next time I'm in town.

And of course, the people. When it comes to keeping in touch with people from high school, I've always said that I already do so with those that I care to keep in touch with and I don't really care about anyone else. Well, I think I'll have to change my position. I got to spend some time with some peeps from high school at a wine bar in downtown and at Mike's birthday/New Year's party and I must say that I'd now call these people my friends. Not surprisingly, social interaction with these people have changed since high school. Things are a lot less superficial and it's not a popularity contest. Everyone can talk and hang out without dealing with the awkward social barriers that existed back then. Some names that spring to mind: Meli, Malia, Dave, Joel, and Mike. They are all people that I didn't hang around in high school but was able to do so nowadays and it was cool. I apologize if I missed anyone. My memory stinks.

Along with old faces, I met some new ones. One of which, Jeff (sp?), turned out to be the cousin of a friend's sister's boyfriend (Pretty Ricky, for those that know him). A couple other really cool peeps that I'm glad I met are Cathy and Poha. Cathy - I swear I know you from somewhere else. Poha - you're from Waianae, you're excused.

Those are the highlights from my trip. I glazed over a lot of details that I might go into in a future post if the mood strikes me. I'll be back some time in '08 for more good times.

Business in the front, party in the back!

Here I thought that mullets are predominantly a southern phenomenon. Not true. Apparently, the trendy hairdo is alive n' thrivin in the 50th state. As much as I like to poop on it, I must admit the mullet's popularity (or perhaps its notoriety) grants it more monikers than any other haircut that I know. I've heard it called squirrel pelt, mississippi mudflap, ape drape, beaver paddle, and tennessee tophat. I wish I'd taken pictures of all the mudflaps I've seen here so far.