Showing posts with label Blue Raja. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Blue Raja. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 21, 2005

dig my new digs

***
‘XENU AND ME,’ CHAPTER VIII

Let's get this party started, fun-lovers! It's me, The Haiku Master, reporting from my brand-new, top secret base of operations in the Baltimore suburbs... a little place I like to call Castle Haiku!


The Haiku Master Is Living Large At The Newly Acquired Castle Haiku

That's right, baby! Me, the Pharaoh of 5-7-5, right up there in the crimefighter big leagues as far as cool headquarters go! And is it ever decked out: ballroom, library, indoor pool, outdoor pool, gym, kennels, stables, billiards room, suits of armor, revolving fireplace, secret passageways, umpteen bedrooms and bathrooms -- even a chapel if I ever feel like getting religious!

Better still, I got it for a song! Turns out the previous owner is a notorious angel trumpet kingpin, and was recently arrested through the combined efforts of the DEA, ATF, and FTD. He won't get his day in court for months, but thanks to modern drug laws the feds were able to seize his property and auction it off almost immediately! Isn't that great?!

Okay for now, friends. As you can imagine, I've got a lot of unpacking to do, and it's not going to get done if I sit here typing all night. Oh, and the big housewarming party is set for this Saturday -- be sure to look for your personalized invitation in the mail, assuming you rate one!

Best,

Sunday, February 27, 2005

one if bin laden, two if haiku, pt. IV

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CHAPTER IV


I was still reeling from the discovery of another haiku-powered crimefighter, but there was no time to dwell on it -- if we didn't act now, Osama bin Laden would soon have his picture on every cup of coffee sold in the Minneapolis-St. Paul area!


Despite Being Driven Out Of Purgatory Coffee, Osama Bin Laden Clung To His Twisted Plan Of Coffee House Domination

In a solid display of lightning-quick thinking, my new ally had thrown a self-attaching sensor onto bin Laden's back when he and his bacon-covered posse fled Purgatory Coffee. Using H.G.'s sophisticated computer equipment, we soon had him pinpointed at a deserted warehouse in downtown Minneapolis...but what good was I going to be against a crew that had soundly defeated me in our first go-round?

"I just don't know how we're going to stop him, Haiku Girl!" I said. "You saw what happened at the coffee shop; my Haikung Fu is no match for that bizarre 'camel fu' used by bin Laden and his boys!"

"No sweat!" she said, holding up two fistfuls of greasy raw bacon. "Or did you forget that bacon's like vampire garlic for Islamic fundamentalists?"

"Oh yeah! Bacon..."

"Besides which," she added, "this funky ring of mine gives me all sorts of magic powers. Got it from a haiku-addicted fairy named Aldolpholus P. Funpockets."

"Good show, H.G. -- I like the cut of your jib! What would you say to a job as my sidekick?"

"Mmm, I don't know. What's the pay?"

"We'll discuss that later. Right now, we've got a super-villain to catch! Quick! To the...er. Do you have a sweet ride? I left the Blue Raja back in Baltimore."

"Of course I have a sweet ride -- I'm a professional crimefighter! Let's go!"

"Great. But I'm driving!"

"All right..." Then, to Kuey the Giant Intelligent Crimefighting Pigeon: "Kuey, stay here and watch the house! I'll be back soon!"

So off we went, and in short order arrived at our destination! According to H.G.'s laptop, bin Laden was still inside...which meant it was time for us to kick out the jams!!!

---CLICK HERE FOR 'ONE IF BIN LADEN, TWO IF HAIKU' PT. V---

Monday, February 07, 2005

carwash carnage

As with many other crimefighters destined to go down in history, I, The Haiku Master, have a sweet ride that I use on my adventures. Batman has his Batmobile, Flaming Carrot has his nuclear powered pogostick, and Scooby Doo has his Mystery Machine. But I, my friends -- I have the Blue Raja.


This Car, Clearly Owned By A Haiku Master Fan, Is Identical In Appearance To The Blue Raja -- Right Down To The Sweet Sunroof!

Sure, she may not look like much, but she's got it where it counts: fuel efficiency. Not to mention a sunroof, which comes in very handy for cool Dukes of Hazzard-style exits and entrances. Only cooler, because I go through the top of the car instead of the side.

Just as a cowboy cares for his steed, The Haiku Master pampers the Blue Raja as much as possible. And today, after weeks of on-and-off snow and its accompanying salt treatments, the poor girl was looking like a delicious salt bagel. Which meant it was time for a wash, before I tried to eat it during one of my famous George Dickel* spirit quests.

So to the car wash we went. Parking the Raja outside, I entered the gas station to pay for my baby's bath. There was one old man in front of me, and sure enough, he was getting a car wash, too. Curses! I thought. Many more like him and this operation will take a veritable eternity!

Indeed, I began to grow a beard just waiting for the elder gent to finish his transaction. At long last, it was my turn.

"I'll take the super wash, my good man," I said with the rightful wink of one who's in the scoop. After all, you had to pony up $6 just to get the basic wash...but for just $2 more, it became a super wash!

Ticket in hand, I returned to the Raja, noticing that the old timer hadn't even made it back to his car. "Eat my dust, SenĂ³r Senior!" I snickered as the Raja purred to life.

Whipping around to the side of the gas station, my luck was holding out -- only one other car in front of me. Things were going smoothly, all right...but my Haiku Master senses should have realized they were going too smoothly!


A Middle-Aged Woman In Timonium, MD Was Utterly Defeated By An Automatic Car Wash Much Like This One

A minute of waiting became two minutes, then three. Having used this particular car wash many times in the past, I knew it took no more than two minutes to pass through its chamber...yet the stoic station wagon in front of me still did not move! Nor could I discern any motion in the car wash itself.

There was movement, though. The driver of the un-mobile had his or her hand extended, frantically pressing buttons on the little code-entry box outside the car wash. Clearly, this person was a car wash amateur. And if there's one thing The Haiku Master can't stand, it's an amateur.

In this time, of course, the old man had pulled up behind me, and was looking nearly as frustrated as I. Behind him was an SUV, and after just 30 more seconds of this bizarre behavior on the part of the lead car, the gas-guzzler laid on his or her horn.

At which point I leapt into action.

Exiting the Raja, I stepped up to the offending vehicle, and saw that a well-dressed, fit, middle-age woman was driving the car.

"Hi," I said. "What's going on? Are you waiting for someone to finish?"

"I don't know," she said. "I can't tell -- is someone in there? I can't tell."

I looked from her, to the car wash, and back. "No, there's no one in there," I said with certainty. "Did you put your code in?"

"Yes, I put it in..."

"Well, it doesn't seem to be working. Would you mind going in and asking someone to help you? You're holding up a lot of people."

"I keep pushing the attendant button but no one comes."

I was aghast. Here was an adult human, with considerable life experience behind her, who seemed quite willing to sit in her car until she either froze or starved to death if no one came out to help her, rather than walk the 10 feet required for faster service. Synapses were exploding all over my brain's outer perimeter, but still I remained calm.

"Right," I said. "But in the meantime, you have three -- no, now four -- cars blocked in behind you. As Spock so sagely demonstrated in Wrath of Khan, madame, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one. So kindly exit your vehicle and go ask someone for help if you can't figure it out on your own."

Behind us, the SUV driver had rolled down his window and was shouting obscenities, still laying on his horn.

I walked back to the Raja. "What the hell's going on up there?" the old man demanded of me.

"Technophobe," I shrugged.


This Picture From Robert Rodriguez's The Faculty Comes Up In A Google Image Search For 'Carwash'

As always, I know what you're thinking: "Geez, Haiku Master! Maybe you should have taught that lady how to use the machine, instead of just telling her to go ask the station employees for help!"

Perhaps I would have been more inclined to do so, loyal readers...had there not been a large sign explaining, in easy-to-read, step-by-step instructions, how to use the car wash. I used them myself the first time I patronized this location, and can therefore vouch for their foolproofishnes. Much like Jesus, The Haiku Master helps those who help themselves.

Besides which, the store's employees may well have been unionized, and I don't mess with unions.

Back to today's adventure, the lady gingerly stepped from her vehicle and headed inside. The attendant was back before she was, and personally entered her ticket code into the box on her behalf.

What should have happened next is, the lady's station wagon gets swept away by the car wash's automatic car-pushing-things. Instead, there was a loud crunching sound as the car-pushing-things banged against her back tires.

"No ma'am, you have it in park!" the attendant shouted. "You have to put it in neutral!"

Something she would've known had she bothered. to read. the provided. directions. Needless to say, the infamous berserker Haiku Master Beserker Rage overtook me at that point. I'm just glad no one was seriously injured. More importantly, the Blue Raja escaped unscathed -- they say I threw it 30 yards to a safe landing on a neighboring parking lot before I really started to kick out the jams.


The Car Wash, Post Haiku Master

Clearly, no one as technologically illiterate as the woman who caused my rage will ever find their way to this website. But if you know such a person, do them and the world a favor and have them euthanized.

Best,



* Prior to 2004, The Haiku Master would have proudly endorsed Jack Daniel's spirit quests. But last year, the evil, greedy corporation that currently owns Jack's soul further degraded his once-great legacy by dropping it from 84 to 80 proof...having lowered it from 90 just a decade and a half earlier! At this rate, Jack will be a child's milkshake by the year 2019, and I do not drink the milkshakes of children.

As a result, The Haiku Master now endorses George Dickel Nos. 8 & 12, which are still proudly 86.8 and 90 proof, respectively, and proudly American. But not in a creepy "invade who we want and tell everyone else what to do" kind of way. So if anyone at Dickel wants to set me up with a sponsorship deal, I'm all ears.