The Do's and Don'ts of Hawaii

While Spike was going for the gold in his mini Disgusting-Olympics (Ugly Chick Laying Competition), Harry and I started scoping out the rest of the bar. Harry couldn't make eye contact with anything that even resembled a bipedal girl, but I on the other hand found a table of three cuties who made room for me to skooch in with them. They were all from England or Scotland and they had the greatest accents. I immediately started gelling with Abigail the Scot, but I kept goofing around with Jess and Mary too so that they didn't feel left out. We were all laughing and having a great time until the bored Spike and Harry came over. Spike made an ass of himself from the get-go by pushing Mary and Abigail apart, plopping a chair in between them and pointing to Mary while stating, "Hey Ross.... I'll take the blonde with the big tits if you don't mind... *BELCH*". This would not have bothered me in the least if the girls were already drunk and could have brushed his comment off as a retarded man's jibber jabber, but they had only had one Long Island Iced Tea each at that point (and Jessica didn't even get to finish her's as she threw it into my acquaintance's face).

The rest of that night turned into a collage of blurs, but despite that I do remember many specific instances. For example, I recall: Mary kicking Spike in the shins and running off in a huff because he said she looked chunky in her sleeveless shirt; Harry buying us three rounds of Long Island Iced Teas each and making us drink them all in under 5 minutes; me finishing a pitcher of Ice House by myself in under 10 minutes; me making the two remaining girls say "The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain" in cockney accents and then giggling my ass off; that old drunken sailor behind us who kept trying to get into our action; all the money in my wallet (around $90) disappearing before 3AM; and coming back from the bathroom to find Spike and Harry alone at the table grinning like idiots and talking to each other in hushed tones.

Monkeys are always worth whatever risk you take to catch and eat them! One "don't" that I happened on perchance was DO NOT go chasing after monkeys into the rain forest. That is the easiest fucking way to get lost in Hawai'i. I thought I saw a little leopard tailed spider monkey swinging through the trees like Christopher Lambert in Greystoke, so I had to follow in the hopes that I might find his Lucky Charms and get a magically good part of my breakfast as a reward for not eating his head. Soon, though, I found that the trail of pornography that I left behind to help me find my way back to civilization was picked up by other lost travelers who were a lot more hard-up than I was. It took me over 7 minutes to find my way back to the hotel pool and it scarred me for life! I didn't even catch that monkey.

Since I had just relieved myself of a bunch of the toxins in my system I was seeing clearer and had decent judgment at the time, and so I knew that something was up. Abby and Jess were gone so I asked my "pals" where they went. I was told that they left to change so that we could all go to the beach for some night swimming. That sounded kinda kinky to me, so I was ready for it. But then Spike turned to me and said "So, Rossman, what do you plan to do?" Knowing full well that he was trying to shove me out of the babe line-up (that I had put together myself) I responded, "I plan to do Abby. Which one of you guys is gunna get the shaft?" That's when they both got hyper defensive and told me that I "blew my chance with either girl" when I went to use the john the last time. Neither could explain why Abby couldn't keep her hands off of my crotch or stop nibbling my ear if she didn't want some Rossman luvin' that night though. We almost got kicked out of Spinners because we started yelling at each other so loudly, but at that point Jess and Abby came back to our table in their bikinis. I stopped yelling and almost began laughing.

I had pissed most of my beer goggles away by the time the two ladies had returned. And what I saw with sober eyes was not very pretty. Jess was no Elizabeth Hurley (who in Austin Powers was totally poundable). She wasn't even a Mini-Me. Though it looked as if she had eaten the midget clone of an evil person. Abby did have red hair like I remembered, but I most definitely did NOT see the "wide load" sign that she must've had taped to her back or the pockmarks that littered her face making her look like Edward James Olmos' unfortunate daughter. I quickly said my good-byes and alohas, and left the four horny lovebirds alone. The last thing I heard as I walked away was "What?! Ross isn't coming with us? I... I don't know if I wanna go now. He said he was going to play Jaws with me in the waves." Sorry, Abby. Not in this lifetime.

When the MegaPlayboy and I visited Pearl Harbor we hit upon a major "do". That would be "Do start your take over of the world planning with the many fancy weapons you might find just lying around."

My goal to become Supreme Chancellor of All Hot Bodied Women (SCAhB-W) had to begin somewhere, and the confiscation of numerous guns and missiles and such was the first step that I'd procrastinated over for too long now.

Here you can see the MegaPlayboy testing the equipment out to make sure that they blew things up good and pretty-like. They did.

Cobra Commander, eat your heart out.

Spike here.... Uuuuuurgh... My fucking head is still in major detox. Gyaaaaaah!!!! Need alcohol!..... Uuuuurghackle...

So, um, a big "don't" that Harry and I learned about through experience should be an important lesson to us all. Don't get horse-pissed drunk in a strange land. Don't pick up two girls if it takes more than $40 to get them faced. Do not try to go swimming at a pitch black beach at 4AM if there is no life guard. Don't try to impress the girls with tricks like coral diving at 4AM at the previously mentioned pitch black beach with no life guard. And most especially, do not chip your goddamn tooth off on a rock when you get flipped upside down in the dark waters by a monster wave and get tossed head first into the ocean floor while a baby squid swims up your trunks. That is not recommended.

Those Frenchy girls were nice enough to drag my bleeding ass back to the hotel that we were staying at, but we didn't even get any from them that night. Whores! I guess if I have to think of another "don't" it would be "don't bitch and whine to the girl you're trying to fuck about how you think you're bleeding to death and how maybe that squid had herpes cause that's probably how you got it and maybe the AIDs". Yeah, it probably wasn't the squid, but the husky girl from Vegas that gave me my STDs... But that bitch was soooo worth it.

This is Harry. I just want to say that traveling with the Rossman is a "don't" in my book. That rat bastard is the reason we didn't get any foreign sex that night. I even had my hand on Jess' booby for a while as we watched Spike almost drown. It's all his fault.

"HOly shit!  Was that Godzilla?!?"When the MegaPlayboy launched that Tomahawk missile at Beijing for the test run, it must've gotten caught in some major wind resistance or something cause it smashed into downtown Waikiki instead. The picture to the left is a still image from some Japanese tourist's camcorder from on top of Diamond Head. It's a funny video 'cause he kept crying shit like "Oh no!! We are attacking again! Why, God, why!!! These Americans are our friends now! They buy all our cartoon pornography! Why do we blow them up again! Who will buy our crappy little cars if we kill them all?!?!"

So, "do" always remember to test the calibration on the radar system inside every cruise missile you fire. This blast came so damn close to our hotel and all my Japanese S&M magazines that I had bought in Little Tokyo the day before.

Rossman back again. Another thing that you just cannot pass up is hitting the island white water. Whether it be surfing, boogie boarding or even just swimming and diving through it, you must "do" it. The MegaPlayboy, Spike, Harry and I hit the waves on both the South side and the East side (the North shore was dead when we were there). I bought a disposable boogie board and some flippers to help me tackle the treacherous waters like Annette Funicello (the MegaPlayboy insisted on being Frankie Avalon). The surf on Waikiki beach kind of sucked, but it was a good intro for me. What didn't help though were the native children who could ride a wave from 200 yards out all the way to the beach. Throwing sea urchins and sharp rocks at them doesn't even break their concentration. Fucking show offs.

After getting our feet wet at the touristy part of the island, we packed our stuff up and headed over to the more lively East end. The waves there were a good 10 feet high (from the base of the water)! It was sweet! The only problem though was the fact that they broke right on the fucking shore. Doesn't sound bad to read about it, but trust me, that is the number one way to fuck yourself up if you are not careful. Example: I had been able to catch a few swells about 25 yards out, but I wasn't riding any like a cheap Taiwanese trick pony yet. But then all my luck changed (I still can't decide if it was for the better or worse). The first ogre-sized mountain of water grabbed me, kicked me, spat on me, and then jumped on my ass in a most non-heroic way. And I took it. I took it like a man. A man in great pain who had no say in the matter, but I took it and liked it! Well, maybe I didn't really like it all that much, but it was enough to make me want to convince Spike that he should put his money where his macho mouth was and try to live through the experience himself... Well, it made me decide to do that once I regained consciousness from having my chest implode after being slammed into the sea floor.

That was another great "do". Do get your friend's chump friends to get their butts smeared across a sand bar or two while you watch from the safety of your towel a hundred yards away from any kind of water torture.

Am I the shit or what??????One of the greatest "do's" I did in Hawaiiiii was scuba diving. It was one of the sweetest experiences I've had in my sad and pitiful life. Probably right behind "zero-G interactive cyber sex" and right before "beating the living tar out of Johnny Kain in the 11th grade cause he said that my shirt looked faggy (he was right, it was faggy, but Kathy Jenkins gave it to me for Groundhog Day dammit!)".

While 50 feet below the surface I saw an eel, three giant sea turtles, a group of manta rays, a shitload of bright and colorful tropical fish, and the bloody cloud of water where my instructor was last seen. The guys in the boat swear that "Captain Sharky" got him at last, but I think it seems more probable that his flippers spontaneously combusted from all the paddling he was doing. Plus the MegaPlayboy accidentally shot him with one of the new "people 'sploding" harpoons that I was having him try out for that whole "taking over the world" dealy we always talk about.

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