Marzuki Online

Archive for category brain dead

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

WILL KARMA GET EVEN?….zuki has good intentions…again

Feb 4

Posted by Marzuki in Boy Scout, brain dead, Can't fix Stupid, Crying, Darwin Award, Guilt Ridden, Hovel, Hunker Down, Innocent, Judgement Day, Karma, Pain, Road Trip, Sackcloth & Ashes, Snow storms, Torture, Uncategorized | 6 Comments

Good Morning Do-gooders,

Do you believe in ‘Karma?’  What goes around comes around?  Do you believe there’s a ledger sheet in the sky in which deeds are measured and balanced?  I’m a bit conflicted about an incident last Friday and seek solace here at the ‘Diatribe.’  As you may have heard, we mountain folk got hammered with two straight days of blizzard conditions dumping more than 2 feet of snow!  Even by Denver standards this was a big storm.    My greatest challenge from these storms is not being locked in.  Riding out the weather watching “I love Lucy” reruns or reading some goofy spy novel is not my idea of fun.  I know from past experience if I can escape and get onto a major thoroughfare I can get to those places to enjoy my normal lifestyle.  Yes, you’ve already guessed it, “The Bar.”

It took nearly 30 minutes to dig my car out and make it street worthy.  I plowed my way through the lot and down the breezeway leading to the street.  There’s only one way in and out of my hovel and low and behold there’s a women stuck in the V shaped gutter adjacent to the street full of snow and slush as anyone with a brain would expect.  Sitting in my car I knew I’d be called on to push her, besides I wasn’t going anywhere until she could extricate herself.  I put the gloves on and got out just as she did.  

It was clear she had no idea what to do so I explained she’d need to rock it back and forth using ‘D’ and ‘R’ while I pushed during the ‘D’ phase.  Traction being a premium it was impossible to make headway.  Sucking it up I kept pushing not for her, but for me so I was motivated to continue.  Sensing escape was near she gunned the engine spraying me up and down with slush but finally made it out!  However, just as I waived acknowledging her “thank you” she unexplainably turned back toward the curb and got trapped again.  Having to deal with oncoming traffic I was reluctant if not afraid to help her a second time.  I was exhausted and cold.

From the car I continued to watch her in disbelief.  She again got out of her car and futilely kicked snow from in front of her tires.  All she managed to do was further enmesh her so she gave up, got out of her car, and stood behind it like the ‘damsel in distress.’  Not once did she make eye contact with me, so as soon as it was clear I took off fast enough to get through the gutter and onto the street never looking back. 

Was this bad?  Am I a terrible person?  Was that my responsibility? Does her abject stupidity factor into this?

Look I’ve had my share of unfortunate situations and certainly don’t need additional pain.  Yet I did work hard allowing the nitwit to escape.  Is not that worthy of the plus column?  But as Ron White would say, “You can’t fix stupid!”  Just sayin….

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

BLONDIES; A BAR, SANCTURARY, & COTTON BOX….confessions of a drunkard

Jan 6

Posted by Marzuki in Angry Bartenders, bastards, Beer, Blues, brain dead, curmudgeon, Fine Dining, Handicaped people, Humpty Hump, Murder, New Year's Eve, Nipples, Prep H, Tebow, Urinal Cakes | 3 Comments

Good Morning Transient Ones,

Sitting at the bar and interpreting what’s happening around you is far more complex than the casual observer might think. The subtleties and subcultures that exist are fragile, and take a certain amount of decorum and skill to interface with all of them. While unique, it’s hard for me to believe similar characters and situations could not be found in any bar, so only the violence and vulgarity seem to be demographic in nature and should be anticipated. The slashing on New Year’s Eve is a prime example. Characters from all walks of life and personal hygiene assemble in one small building coded for 80 people all with one common objective; to get drunk!

I’ve been around this rock 60 plus times and most of you know as well as I do, alcohol affects each of us differently, and one must be acutely aware of how to approach each person or group under crapulous conditions. I believe I’ve been able to do this reasonably well, but surprisingly enough, I’m not universally loved as is our dear friend JJOOAAZZ.  

My intention with today’s posting is to outline a number of associations within the bar subculture to give those of you not able or more than likely unwilling to be part of our little family at Blondies. “Where everybody knows your name” is certainly a moniker the bar deserves. There are a few regulars I can’t identify by name but given my daily visits I recognize them as fellow drunks. First timers are usually set upon by one of several people, and you should be aware of what you’re about to encounter.

Typically if you find yourself walking in the door between Noon and 3pm you’re most likely to be accosted by our resident American Indian ‘Harlen’ or (“Running Backwards” his Indian name).  He looks as though he lives under the viaduct living on Taco Bell hot sauce, but is affable enough. He wants so desperately to become part of the curmudgeon association that he’ll occasionally lie to others about his relationship with JJOOAAZZ to make him appear important.

The curmudgeons typically sit at the west end of the bar.  This is not by accident as everyone must walk by us to enter the urine soaked bathrooms providing an opportunity to either harass or ogle.  In the process of getting drunk, curmudgeon corner is trading insults or otherwise humiliating their fellow curmudgeons in a loving way of course. Consequently others in earshot find this entertaining and often inject themselves into the fray.  Subsequently, this butting in nearly always elicits an old fashioned snubbing.  These people will forever remain on the outside looking in.  Don’t think badly of JJOOZZAA as most of these unfortunate few were beaten up daily in school and suspect genetics play a significant role in their being odd.

Charles might be worse in that he’s no doubt a serial killer!  Thankfully he voluntarily sits at the opposite corner of the bar and mumbles to himself.  Interestingly he’s well dressed, but even when crowded there seems to be seats on each side of him. He conducts business out of Blondies by selling exotic meats which explains his particular obsession with JJOOAAZZ.  You’ll see him go to and from the adjacent library to do God knows what and refuses to buy a simple cell phone! Lastly (and I could go on) he’s a “Close Talker” and screams when he speaks to you.  

Auggie has gold teeth.  Dawn (our bartender) is not afraid to bust one’s balls.  Sonny has an obese girlfriend who thinks she’s hot.  70 year old Jack our resident ‘day trader’ loves to look at Bev’s (married) tits and has yet to make eye contact.  Monika is a tall beautiful bar tender from Poland married to one of the new owners.

There are more, but wanted to give you a bit of flavor for lack of a better word.  Have a great weekend!

Zuki

DR PHIL SHITS IN FLATHAT….another evening spoiled

Jan 3

Posted by Marzuki in Angry Bartenders, Balding, bastards, Blathering, Blood Sucking, brain dead, Celebrities, Crying, Guilt Ridden, Hypocrisy, Mommy, Prep H, Rectal Eclispe, Rich & Famous, Sackcloth & Ashes, Suicide Pact, Tebow, Urinal Cakes | 5 Comments

Good Morning Stuart Smalley Wherever You Are,

I want to admonish those that think Dr. Phil is a gifted psychologist with the insight of God to go ahead and “give yourself a swirly.” I’ve taken issue with the touchy-feely morons that conduct counseling sessions before, but this time I had dinner with one! I told myself to take it easy and relax so I could enjoy the evening with an attractive intelligent woman, but seconds after opening her mouth I knew it was not possible. Marla is an elegant tall fluid Mediterranean woman I met at a real estate seminar. She was sitting in the seat to my left and we hit it off immediately. She laughed easily at my jokes and smartass remarks and we ended up spending our one hour lunch breaks together each of the three days. It was the last day of the seminar I found out she is a licensed counselor and works in one of those centers that collects from everyone mandated by the courts to attend. Why does this always happen to me? I wanted desperately to see if our meeting had the potential to go the distance but my attitude toward her had become skewed. AGAIN!!

We went to McCormick’s downtown where I spent my rent money on a good Pinot Noir and Prime Rib. Marla is a vegetarian. This discovery put us both on edge wary that “never the twain shall meet.” I carved a goodly portion of the medium rare offering and ate in silence as she grazed on some leafy foliage both of us trying to come up with small talk. This was maddening as minutes before we were laughing, talking politics, and playing footsie! Finally she broke the awkward silence and indicated she was working on an interesting case and would I like hearing about it. Obviously there wasn’t much choice under the circumstances, as anything was better than small talk so I enthusiastically agreed.

Getting right to the crux, her story was based on a young woman facing serious issues with the law as she’d been pulled over for DUI a third time! According to Marla this single mother had been mentally and physically abused most of her life and was a classic case of becoming exactly the person she’d been abused by. Marla began her self-inspired diagnosis by telling this young woman she was “good enough, smart enough, and doggone it people liked her” I swear to God she didn’t use those exact words, but damn close! Continuing her self aggrandizing she further explained how she has personally given the woman a reason to live and has increased her self worth ten fold! I was fighting back the urge to gag! I wasn’t sure how much more of her “Daily Affirmation” I could swallow so I began making fun of her. I now addressed her as Ms. Smalley (reference Al Franken’s character on Sat. night Live) asking to see her credentials because the bull shit she was dispensing couldn’t possibly be from recognized studies! She looked at me as if I’d just shit on her plate! “You horses ass….I hope all your arteries clog” she coolly announced and collected her things never looking back. She caught a cab leaving me with my meat. I was grateful she’d left most of the wine and with the exception of a few gawkers was able to finish my Prime Rib in peace.

Where do these people come from? My God their opinion of themselves is a mirror image of Dr. Phil’s! No one needs that from a dinner date! I suspect the natural order of things dictates one must find a mate early in life as opposed to later. Geezers are fixed in their perceptions, biases, dogma, and self worth making it nigh onto impossible to merge with another geezer. I’m going to e-harmony to take the twenty-nine compatibility questions to actually see if I can find a woman that shares my sense of things and potentially has a bit of cash. If the two or three of you reading this raillery are curious about these compatibility questions I’ll let you know how it goes.

zuki