Am I supposed to be impressed?

Growing Up Kanaka Revisited

A mildly humorous autobiography covering my early years growing up on the Big Island of Hawaii during the early days of World War II. It covers a period from the bombing of Pearl Harbor (age 6) to the end of my senior year of high school and the end of the Korean War (1953).

Every Party Needs One

Ever been at a rip-roaring party then that one scowling person walks in, out of place in the mix. You ask yourself why did they invite him (or her). Read this short ode and you'll know.

The Do Nothing Club

One of those insanities I perpetrated in college

Reverse Dropout

A biker companion spontaneously rehabilitated himself and joined the upward mobile middle-class for the most unorthodox reason.


The Social Gap

A spontaneously humorous pickup routine that worked much too well and disastrously for one of my companions. It must be read to be appreciated.

Scorpion Soup

Excerpt from "Growing Up Kanaka" sub-titled "How to Torment Haoles (non-kanaka or outsider)



While writing my novels I took breaks writing oneliners, many of which I peddled to stand-up comics while I was living in Los Angeles. The pay was miserable but it helped with the miscellaneous daily expenses. I never was a "starving artist" although I dabbled in painting portraits and created "genuine native Aztec clay statuary" that friends would peddle on Olvera Street (Calle Olvera) in LA. But that is another story. Only the prudes will not enjoy my ribald humor but who cares. Enjoy a good laugh. You deserve it.

A Bit Off-Color Oneliners

These bumper stickers have decorated the back of my van (one a month). The reaction has been laughter, honks, hostile shouts and various hoots in between. I have only included those that drew the most results from spectators, the good, the bad and the ugly.

Bumper Stickers

Along with writing oneliners I also dabbled in writing more involved jokes for the cheaper men's magazines. These paid a little better and I had better success when I developed a friendship with one of the publishers or editors. Most of the magazines were small operations - often a two or three men shop. During this period, I ran a weekly community newspaper in the Los Angeles Harbor District and could sympathize with the woes of other small publishers. I lost track of most of my published material and kept only a small portion of the jokes I wrote. At any rate, here is some of my material. If the response is good, I will publish more in the near future. Again, enjoy a good laugh. You will live longer.

Slightly Bawdy Party Jokes

Growing up, we have all received admonitions about not perpetrating falsehoods. But how valid are those? Do liars never prosper? I think not. With my tongue firmly planted in cheek, I present you a logical, factual response.

Why Not Lie!!

Ever feel like your computer is taking possession of your life? Here is one unhappy chap who learned that it doesn't pay to have the "latest and greatest" in home computers. This is presented as a cautionary tale. Buyers beware!

The Joy of Upgrading

A ribald poem subtitled "I never raped no statue-atory". It also could be deemed as a long-haul trucker's nightmare.

A Case for the Defense








Devoted to that which catches our fancy.

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Table Manners

Alexander Graham Bell Who?

Old Time Phone

In idle moments, I stare at my laptop and reminisce. Occasionally, I recall my first brush with "modern" technology. I must have been five at the time and was taken to my cousin's house. John Ramos had a telephone, an old fashion, crank party line. He called my uncle in town then handed me the ear piece and hoisted me up to the receiver horn sticking out from the mahogany box attached to the kitchen wall. "Here," he said, "Talk to Uncle Jacque." My eyes must have bulged out of their sockets when I heard my uncle's voice over the ear piece. Afterwards, I sat at his kitchen table, staring in awe at the marvel of technology for over an hour until my father and I left. My voice had traveled over wires all the way to Honokaa, John Ramos had explained. I never got over it for weeks. It was a highlight of my young life.