Marzuki Online

Archive for category Humpty Hump

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

HUMBLE TRIBUTE TO DV’ANT….a flatulent zuki sees the light

Feb 8

Posted by Marzuki in Blathering, Blues, Butchered Songs, Colonoscopy, Dv'ant, Fecal Bliss, Humpty Hump, Mr. Hankey, Packed & Pressed, Prep H, Rectal Eclispe | 10 Comments

Good Morning Dv’ant Wherever You Are,

The following account is in tribute to our missing associate Dv’ant.  Nobody does shit like Dv’ant:

Has it ever occurred to the two or three of you reading this peroration that the cause of most misery stems from being constipated?  Yes that’s right.  The inability to have a normal bowel movement is what made Hitler such an asshole.  Historians have now determined the steady diet of goat cheese and fish heads plugged up the average Norsemen so badly they were incapable of any pleasantry thus from shear necessity had to rape and pillage their way to relief. 

Being plugged isn’t limited to old people either.  In American school aged children the rise in obesity has been front page news of late but has now been directly linked to this vile malady.  For years the skyrocketing weight gain of our children was blamed on ‘Happy Meals’ and at last is now being vindicated.  Not only are stopped up bowels uncomfortable, the added time in the system is causing weight gain.  Dr. Joe Philpot of the Children’s Hospital stated at a recent enclave of gastronomes “We owe the McDonald’s Corporation an apology.  We can now prove beyond all doubt the hated ‘Happy Meal’ is innocent!”

Philpot held up his hand signaling a pause, and then said “We’ve been able to create a drilling mechanism that will effectively and gently drain the stoppage allowing for normal metabolic activity” continued Philpot.  According to the good doctor the only side effect stems from excessive gas build up.  When the devise is inserted there is a release valve that is meant to gradually reduce the pressure.  If the attending staff isn’t careful a complete and utter ‘blow out’ can occur leaving the patient with what doctors call a ‘singing sphincter.’  It takes years for the stretched out tissue to regain its elasticity and until it does, every crop dusting and bowel movement results in the old Disney tune “Zippity Doo Dah;” all in A minor.   

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

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