Paradise Driver

Saturday, January 06, 2007

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JUSTIN

22 YEARS OLD TODAY!

This is for my oldest grandson.

I love you very much!

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Snagged this from Lugosi's site.

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"MAUI FEVER"

MTV's latest "reality" TV show.
story #1
story #2

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Still off sick.

Enjoy the pictures!

THE PICTURE GALLERY

KAUA'I

Na Pali Coast

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"Let's all be careful out there!"

Friday, January 05, 2007

I AM SURE I MENTIONED IT

IT IS FUCKING SLOW

The rear parking lot at the "Triangle", during the busy part of the evening on Wednesday.

When I turned over the phone to Flor (#27) on Thursday morning I told him to pass on to Art that I would not be in on Thursday night. Monday night I went to dinner and couldn't taste the food. Tuesday I was so congested that I had to "mouth breathe" the entire night. Woke up Wednesday feeling like shit. Totally plugged, sore throat and my nose was "running" so bad that I had to stick tissue inside the nostrils to keep from soaking my shirt from the constant outflow. Turns out it is a damn cold.

One bad thing about driving a cab is that you are in intimate contact with people and their germs. I am usually not affected but apparently we have a new strain of rhino-virus mutating through the island. Might as well take off since we have no business. Should be better (or at least functioning) by Friday night.

Talk to you later. Off to bed.

Yes, I am drinking a whole hell of a lot of fluids.

The New Political Science

DEMOCRATIC

You have two cows.
Your neighbor has none.
You feel guilty for being successful.
Barbara Streisand sings for you.

REPUBLICAN

You have two cows.
Your neighbor has none.
So?

SOCIALIST

You have two cows.
The government takes one and gives it to your neighbor.
You form a cooperative to tell him how to manage his cow.

COMMUNIST

You have two cows.
The government seizes both and provides you with milk.
You wait in line for hours to get it.
It is expensive and sour.

CAPITALISM - AMERICAN STYLE

You have two cows.
You sell one, buy a bull, and build a herd of cows.

BUREAUCRACY - AMERICAN STYLE

You have two cows.
Under the new farm program the government pays you to shoot one, milk the other, and then pours the milk down the drain.

AMERICAN CORPORATION

You have two cows.
You sell one, lease it back to yourself and do an IPO on the 2nd one.
You force the two cows to produce the milk of four cows. You are surprised when one cow drops dead. You spin an announcement to the analysts stating you have downsized and are reducing expenses.
Your stock goes up.

FRENCH CORPORATION

You have two cows.
You go on strike because you want three cows.
You go to lunch and drink wine.
Life is good.

JAPANESE CORPORATION

You have two cows.
You redesign them so they are one-tenth the size of an ordinary cow and produce twenty times the milk.
They learn to travel on unbelievably crowded trains.
Most are at the top of their class at cow school.

GERMAN CORPORATION

You have two cows.
You engineer them so they are all blond, drink lots of beer, give excellent quality milk, and run a hundred miles an hour.
Unfortunately they also demand 13 weeks of vacation per year.

ITALIAN CORPORATION

You have two cows but you don't know where they are.
While ambling around, you see a beautiful woman.
You break for lunch.
Life is good.

RUSSIAN CORPORATION

You have two cows.
You have some vodka.
You count them and learn you have five cows.
You have some more vodka.
You count them again and learn you have 42 cows.
The Mafia shows up and takes over however many cows you really have.

TALIBAN CORPORATION

You have all the cows in Afghanistan, which are two.
You don't milk them because you cannot touch any creature's private parts.
You get a $40 million grant from the US government to find alternatives to milk production but use the money to buy weapons.

IRAQI CORPORATION

You have two cows.
They go into hiding.
They send radio tapes of their mooing.

POLISH CORPORATION

You have two bulls.
Employees are regularly maimed and killed attempting to milk them.

BELGIAN CORPORATION

You have one cow.
The cow is schizophrenic.
Sometimes the cow thinks he's French, other times he's Flemish.
The Flemish cow won't share with the French cow.
The French cow wants control of the Flemish cow's milk.
The cow asks permission to be cut in half.
The cow dies happy.

FLORIDA CORPORATION

You have a black cow and a brown cow.
Everyone votes for the best looking one.
Some of the people who actually like the brown one best accidentally vote for the black one.
Some people vote for both.
Some people vote for neither.
Some people can't figure out how to vote at all.
Finally, a bunch of guys from out-of-state tell you which one you think is the best-looking cow.

CALIFORNIA CORPORATION

You have millions of cows.
They make real California cheese.
Only five speak English.
Most are illegals.
Arnold likes the ones with the big udders.

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THE PICTURE GALLERY

KAUA'I

Hanapepe Valley

Ha'upu Mountain Range On Kaua'i

Hilton Kaua'i Beach Resort (right)
Kaua'i Beach Villas (left)

Honopu Beach Arch And Valley
Na Pali Coast

Interior Of Kauai East Of Mt. Waialale

Interior Of The Hanalei River Valley

Kahili Waterfalls
In Hanapepe Valley

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"Let's all be careful out there!"

Thursday, January 04, 2007

"I BLEW A 6-7"

NO FUCKIN' WAY

Around 8:00pm there was a solo vehicle traffic collision near Dolphin Plaza, across the street from Kamaole Beach Park-I. A vehicle took out a fire hydrant. The typical 40' to 50' artesian spring. No one was injured. The driver was arrested for DUI (Driving Under the Influence [of drugs or alcohol]).

At 2:00am I pick up the phone from Kimo (#11) and he advises me of a fare waiting behind the MPD-Kihei District Station, which is next door to FoodLand. The guy was the driver from the accident. We were headed to Ma'alaea.

"Boy, this was an expensive night."
"How's that?"
"It just cost me $1,000 to get out of jail."
"DUI?"
"Yeah. I hit this fire hydrant that wouldn't get out of my way."
"Yup/ They don't tend to move around at lot."
"That's the truth."
"So what did you 'blow'?"
"I blew a 6-7"
"No fuckin' way. If you blew a 0.67% you wouldn't be riding with me. You'd be lying face up in a refrigerator at the morgue."
"Then it was a six-point-seven."
"What's you name?
"Bill."
"Bill, my name is Wil. Bill, the legal limit in this State is 0.08% (zero-point-zero eight) blood alcohol. At 0.40% you are most likely unconscious and are probably dying. At 0.45% you are taking your last breathes of life and will be dead in just a few moments. There is no way you blew a 0.67%."
"Whatever. All I know is that I swerved to miss a car and that damn fire plug jumped right out in front of me. I had to callmy friends to bring me some dry clothes and post my bail. The tow guy called the 'po-lease' and told me that the inside of my car was totally flooded. He also said that it was totaled. No why it can be fixed."
"Do you have insurance?"
"Yeah. The Hartford Group through AARP (American Association of Retired Persons)."
"Full coverage?"
"I think so. I know I have some kind of deductible that I have to pay."
"How old are you Bill>"
"78"
"You know, Bill, you were pretty lucky tonight. You weren't injured and you didn't kill anyone else."
"I know."
"And you were also pretty stupid."
"Huh? What?"
"You said it cost you $1,000 to buy your "Get Out Of Jail Card" and that your car is totaled. You are going to get next to nothing from the insurance company. Your insurance rates are going to triple for the next seven years. This stupid stunt is going to cost you between $15,000 and $20,000 over the next 7 years. Why didn't you just call a cab?"
"They're too damn expensive."
"As expensive as $20,000?"

He tipped me $5 on a $30.

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While walking down the street one day, a senator is tragically hit by a truck and killed. His soul arrives in Heaven and is met by St. Peter at the entrance.
"Welcome to Heaven," says St. Peter. "Before you settle in, it seems there is a problem. We seldom see a high official around these parts, you see, so we're not sure what to do with you."
"No problem, just let me in," says the senator.
"Well, I'd like to, but I have orders from higher up. What we'll do is have you spend one day in Hell and one in Heaven. Then you can choose where to spend eternity."
"There's no need! I want to be in Heaven," says the senator.
"I'm sorry, but we have our rules." And with that, St. Peter escorts him to the elevator, the doors open, and he rides the elevator down, down, down. When the doors open again, the senator finds himself in the middle of a beautiful green golf course. In the distance is a club, and standing in front of it are all his friends and other politicians who had worked with him.
Everyone is very happy and in formal dress. They run to greet him, and they reminisce about the good times they had while getting rich at the expense of the people. They play a friendly game of golf and then dine on lobster and caviar.
Also present is the Devil, who is a very friendly guy who has a good time dancing and telling jokes. They are having such a good time that, before the senator realizes it, it is time to go. Everyone gives him a big hug and waves while the elevator rises. The elevator goes up, up, up, and the door reopens in Heaven where St. Peter is waiting for him.
So 24 hours pass with the senator joining a group of contented souls moving from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing. They have a good time and, before he realizes it, the 24 hours have gone by, and St. Peter returns.
"Well, you've spent a day in Hell and another in Heaven. Now, you must choose where you want to spend eternity."
He reflects for a minute and then answers, "Well, I would never would have thought it, I mean Heaven has been delightful, but I think I would be better satisfied in Hell."
So Saint Peter escorts him to the elevator, and down, down, down he goes into Hell. Now, the doors of the elevator open, and he is in the middle of a barren land covered with waste and garbage. He sees all his friends dressed in rags, picking up the trash and putting it in black bags. And it's hot, hot, hot, and the odor is just horrible.
Sweltering hot. Hot and miserable. The Devil comes over to him and smoothly lays his arm around his shoulder.
"I don't understand," stammers the senator. "The day before I was here, and there was a golf course and club, and we ate lobster and caviar and danced and had a great time. Now all there is is a wasteland full of garbage, and my friends look miserable."
The Devil looks at the senator, smiles, and says, "Yesterday we were campaigning. Today you voted for us."