Marzuki Online

Archive for category Beer

WAS HE JUST SICK OR A VICTIM OF CIRCUMSTANCE…..zuki buys cough syrup.

Feb 20

Posted by Marzuki in Angry Bartenders, bastards, Beer, Blathering, Blood Sucking, Boy Scout, Crying, curmudgeon, Get on the Bus, Hypocrisy, Karma, Mommy, Mr. Hankey, Nipples, Old People, Pain, poor, Prep H, Suicide Pact, Technology, Urinal Cakes, Virgins, Weddings | 8 Comments

Good Morning Living Examples of Excuse Me but You’re in my Seat,

Long greeting…. But never mind, okay shit I owe the two or three of you reading this farrago some sort of an apology.  I’m simply fucking sick!  Flu like symptoms to be sure, but have a tough time dealing with flem in a gracious manner.  It’s very similar to the malady suffered last month, only worse!  Fever and ever increasing thoughts of suicide plague both my conscious as well as night terrors.  As you might guess, this leaves little time for rest let alone sleep.   I weep for my future!

My trifling maladies really aren’t relevant to today’s posting, but certainly must be considered when contemplating a reply/comment.  This will be a brief admonition but nonetheless important.  Okay, here goes, when Life’s Rich Pageant suggests working with animals, don’t fight it; just give in to living in animal squalor.  In nearly every case, Hollywood animal acts bring in twice union scale, leaving the actors twisting in the wind abandoned by their respective agents.  Go ahead pet the dog like you mean it!

zuki

PS:

I seem to be meandering looking for something that isn’t there, and for that I apologize.  For those of you and God knows who you are, rooting for me even in the most modest fashion, God bless you and yours.  Those of you wishing me ill, let me quote a well intentioned curmudgeon, “Look it up your ass!”  I hope I didn’t shock you with this abrupt and coarse language.  But I’m just sayin….

POWERBALL PAYS IN KONA DIVIDENDS…..zuki says so long

Feb 13

Posted by Marzuki in Airlines, Angry Bartenders, Bagwan, bastards, Beer, brain dead, Bucket List, Changes, Fine Dining, Foie Gras, French Dip, Humpty Hump, Kona, Live Happily Everafter, Mardi Gras, Nipples, Road Trip, sperm, Thankful | 8 Comments

Good Morning Suffering Masses,

I wanted you good people to be the first to know. I hit the Powerball numbers last night! While I had to split it 32 ways $10.5 million should cover my remaining days on this rock.  Life as I know it no longer makes sense. Oh I’ll be around from time to time, as I have substantial history here. But let’s face it; Kona is damn pleasant this time of year, or any time of year for that matter.  

I’ve already sent my children ahead to locate the perfect spot for old Dad. While I have the final say of course, my eldest son is in charge. I got the pic yesterday afternoon and the view posted is first on their list. In the meantime though, I’ve reserved “Huggo’s on the Beach” for my extended family and moronic associates. I’m flying the Hooter’s girls in from Honolulu to assist the local wait staff as well as a few “professionals.”  I’ve rented it out for a week; March 17th through the 24th.   You should be receiving your tickets/hotel reservations within the week, so don’t kill or hide from the delivery guy.   

Don’t hold back. Really, I won’t be happy until everyone pukes! I’ve employed full Para-medic services, and have secured a chopper to stand-by.  I intend for this party to be epic! There’ll be ‘roast beast’, Shrimp (double dipping is allowed), all manner of cheese with the appropriate wines. A WEEK LONG OPEN BAR! Did I mention we’d have an open bar? In return, I must insist on mandatory attendance the first day to witness a ceremonial jigger melting that is essentially our official ‘opening.’ I’m sorry but I won’t budge on this one!

Accoutrements suitable for the occasion are of course optional. “Tell them what they’ve won Johnny!” As an added bonus, those of you that manage to outlast ole Marzuki will have the option of staying an additional week and be an honored guest at my Kona housewarming party! This will be followed by brunch at the Four Seasons Resort, Hualalai where you and your guest will stay the remaining week.  

There’s one more requirement I must impose on you good people. This will be on the final evening and will have an air of solemnity to it.  You may have already guessed it; shit, you have haven’t you? This party will more than likely be the last time I see many of you, and I wanted to leave a lasting impression; something you could pass along to the grandkids. I will ask everyone to arrive at Huggo’s in formal attire, raise a flute of Dom, and hear the tale of “The Clean Spot” as told by yours truly. For some of you, this may be a deal-breaker and I hope under the circumstances, you’ll choose wisely. Because the entire soiree will last ten days, then it’s back to the mainland for the lot of you while zuki breaks out the hammock.

For future reference, there’s no need to make advanced arrangements, you’re all welcome to drop by anytime. However, I strongly suggest you bring raw meat to distract the dogs.

zuki

HUMILIATION AT CURMUDGEON CORNER….zuki is ashamed

Feb 7

Posted by Marzuki in Angry Bartenders, Beer, Blind people, Can't fix Stupid, curmudgeon, Cush, Drunken sloppy, Fine Dining, French Dip, Handicaped people, Old People, Pigs, sandwich, Urinal Cakes | 4 Comments

Good Morning Children of Caprice,

Well another Super Bowl has come and gone and I for one am grateful.  Two weeks of bluster and bullshit about a football game is way more than enough!  Be that as it may, I was pleased to see ‘Mr. Wonderful’ and ‘Yoda’ taste defeat at the hands of a guy who spends his days ‘gaming’ with other nerds. 

Humiliation comes in many forms and not limited to worldwide audiences of 100 million!  Humility is generally served with “A fine Chianti and Fava beans” as one’s heart is ripped from its natural resting place.  With some kind of Cosmic arrangement humility is normally doled out just when one thinks his/her fecal matter smells of lavender; pleasant to all it encounters.  The ‘Bagged One’ has a lovely turn of phrase to describe this phenomenon calling it “Flying up their own asshole.”  Excogitation is painful at best.  This is why it’s easier to rehash or resurrect an old idea because it’s a ‘no risk’ proposition.  New and brilliant is reserved for those yet to suffer humiliation.  As we all know it’s just a matter of time.

This was never truer than over the weekend.  The football game aside, (these millionaires will no doubt recover and move on) there was an ugly incident involving Cush’s big night out.  Given the thumbs up from mama, Cush took advantage of Blondie’s Super Bowl bash where one could order anything from the menu and an open bar from 4:00 PM until the end of the game, all for $35!  To most ‘Teamsters,’ it’s tantamount to double secret triple overtime paid under the table!  The innocent Polish proprietors had no idea who they were dealing with as Cush downed 5 (count em 5) French Dip sandwiches, a bottle and one half of Crown Royal, and nearly a case of Budweiser. 

Nobody was prepared for this level of carnage.  I asked one of the ‘Pollock’s’ if he made any money from his little soiree’ and all he could do was muster a wry smile while shaking his head no.  Evidently they lost their asses and to a man blame Cush, JJ, and Roger the ‘hairdresser.’  The little hairdresser spilled more beer than he consumed.  JJ left then returned with his coat to better facilitate carting his beloved grilled chicken sandwiches away by stuffing his pockets.  

Shameful, just shameful was the collective sigh of the remaining patrons left twisting in the wind.  With nothing to eat or drink justice seemed unattainable as they watched the three old farts inhale enough food and drink for 50.  Yet as most of us know one can’t consume that much without consequences.  Sure enough while chomping down his 5th French Dip Cush began to choke on the Dill Pickle.  JJ and the little hairdresser were so busy stuffing themselves they failed to see Cush’s distressed situation.  Unable to speak, Cush stood up signaling anyone that cared of his dire need for oxygen.  Turning blue the other patrons turned away and acted as if they didn’t see him feeling very smug about the changing state of affairs.

Running back to JJ and the little hairdresser still pigging out at ‘curmudgeon corner’ Cush blacked out falling directly on the corner of the bar and self administered the Heimlich maneuver launching the soiled pickle directly into JJ’s beer.  Only then did he look up from his plate and assess the chain of events leading to the desecration of his beer.  “What the f—k” JJ screamed, and turned in unison with the little hairdresser as Cush regained consciousness and faced the hungry patrons.  As if scripted, they began to applaud and whistle jeering all three of them.  Needless to say, all three left in a huff.  Really I’m not making this up.

zuki

ASSOCIATE FINALLY GETS A SPINE…..zuki does the dirty work

Jan 29

Posted by Marzuki in Art, bastards, Beer, curmudgeon, Fecal Bliss, Humpty Hump, stinky feet, Straight Jacket, Torture | 3 Comments

Good Morning Patrons of “Tidy Bowl”

Aftermath, consequences, wallop, impact, upshot, offspring, wake, fallout, all describe the ultimate reaction to an event or action taken.  “For every action there is a reaction.”  I’m not sure who said it but it’s become an axiom of sorts.  I open today’s posting with the above primarily to set the tone for what I’m about to unfold.  It saddens me that I should bear the mantle of educible iterations of an obvious disturbed person.  A smarter man than me once said, “No man was ever so much deceived by another as by himself.” Sadly I must report than one of our own has succumbed to this level of deception.

Before I begin in earnest I’d like to point out the many years of service our good friend has proffered on behalf of the ‘Diatribe.’ Their stature is legendary but hardly epic.  He/she has personally assisted in countless acts of futility never seeking compensation or even thanks.  This person is first to rush toward danger, first to throw water on a grease fire, and first to leave the building as it burns to the ground.  You can’t buy that kind of loyalty, nor should you, but just the same this person is in a class unto themselves!

I know what you’re thinking.  “Zuki, why would you heap such praise on this person only to turn around and denigrate them?”   I’m hip.  Please don’t think I enjoy exposing my good friends to ridicule, because I don’t.  But when they fuck up, as they often do, I’m bound by our by-laws to reveal it without prejudice.  For the two or three of you reading this palingenesis you can be certain justice will be administered by lethal injection.  Not literally JJ rather metaphorically.  This infusion of righteous indignation will hopefully bring our associate to an about face.  We can no longer tolerate continued skidding leaving the mess for someone else to “Borax” away.  While our troubled friend has been pampered and spoiled its imperative this shunning is taken seriously.

I got a call from Dr. Slimsy who heads Orthopedic Surgery at Swedish Hospital.  He explained that our good friend had spine surgery less than 24 hours ago.  At long last they have a spine!  Unfortunately they used their newly found posture to wander away.  I thanked the good doctor and had a gut feeling as to where our ‘rules committee’ member was hiding out.  

I got in the car and headed north.  15 minutes later I pulled in front of the bar.  Wrist band still in place, goose-stepping to the Elvis tune “Burning Love” our associate lit from patron to patron displaying the freshly stapled scar.  The manager saw me and immediately rushed toward me begging me to get them out as customers were leaving in droves.  I know for a fact our associate can be dangerous when confronted, not to mention defecating on the floor, so I called for reinforcements. 

Having driven out the last of the stunned patrons, the attendants from our local ‘Cotton Box’ finally arrived with a dart gun and straight jacket.

I followed the ambulance back to the ‘Box’ and glad to announce they’re resting comfortably under the fog of Thorazine.  Officially under ‘observation’ for the next ten days, I’ll update you when I know their disposition.

zuki

NURSE CUSH SAVES THE DAY….zuki discovers beer

Jan 23

Posted by Marzuki in Beer, brain dead, Colonoscopy, Cush, Health Issues, Humpty Hump, Innocent, Pain, stinky feet, Urinal Cakes | 9 Comments

Good Morning Victims of Self-Esteem,

This weekend provided some much needed rest to at last defeat the first malady of the 2012 rotation.  This one has been pretty aggressive.  Not only the congestion normally associated with a cold, but this one included the dreaded dry coughing fit at 2:00 AM.  I took ‘Zicam’ to supposedly lessen the cold’s severity, but it’s difficult to say whether or not it worked.  It’s taken most of a week, and the symptoms have diminished somewhat, but that’s about as long as I remember a cold lasting anyways!  I’m concerned I may have fallen victim to two things; letting hope overcome reason, and a slick marketing campaign.  But to be honest I didn’t follow the directions and was inconsistent at best.

I was walking to Blondies on Friday for Dawn’s (our tough as nails bartender) birthday/bon voyage party and noticed the wind to be howling through the breezeway my pathway to the bar.  It had to be near 80 mph!  Half-way I noticed a large garbage bag (empty) zigging and zagging its way toward me.  Every time I moved it would shift directions and again fling itself at me until unavoidably it hit me in the face and immediately wrapped around my head.  It smelled of burnt rubber but more importantly I was blind.  For reasons unknown to me I continued to walk while trying to extract myself and ran directly into a metal sculpture.  I don’t know the artist but ironically it was an abstract of a man hoisting what appears to be a beer.  I had knocked myself unconscious.

When I came to the first thing I saw was Cush holding a sandwich to my face telling me to eat it.  Words don’t begin to describe the horror of such a visual assault.  Besides all he could offer was a potato and baloney with Mayo; it was actually pretty good.  Cush helped me to my feet but I still felt a bit unsettled and found one of several benches and sat down.  Nurse Cush in his zeal to heal disappeared into Blondies and returned with a plastic cup of beer.  You must understand, drinking beer is Cush’s cure for everything!  Sipping my medicinal beer I was puzzled by his insistence that beer has mystical powers.  “What other maladies do you think beer cures?” I queried.  Cush puffing up his chest replied, “Oh shit there’s a ton of things beer can treat!”  He then began to list them.  “It cures phlebitis, jock itch, sausage fingers, constipation, dandruff, cock-eyed-ness, worts, pancake breath, dry mouth, and makes a damn fine colonic.”  I was stupefied!

I rubbed the rather large goose egg that had appeared after my collision and got to my feet.  Nurse Cush insisted that he pour the remainder of my beer directly over my wound guaranteeing me it would greatly reduce the swelling and ease the pain. Unfortunately, he also managed to spill beer down the front of my shirt.  I made a silent promise to kill him.

Still a bit unsteady I began to stagger toward Blondies and as luck would have it the Littlewood Police was parked in front.  Holding the few drops of beer left in the cup and smelling like a brewery I was arrested for public intoxication and taken straight to ‘De-tox’ for observation.  Jeez.

If the two or three of you reading this remora happen to see Cush please tell him his days among the living are numbered!!

zuki