You Go to Hell, I’m Going to Hawaii

I’m back long enough to grab a few things, put the house on the market and leave a forwarding address for the kids when they come home from college. I left the back door open; you’re welcome to anything you want to scavenge.

I talked to the bartender at the Grand Wailea – a lot – and he says they’re always looking for “older guys” to work at the hotel because we’re “too old to steal and too scared to lie.” I’ve also got a line on an apartment sublet. If that doesn’t work, I can always sleep rough on the beach.

So long suckers, as my friend Danny Cohen used to say, I’m out of here.

– Austin irs debt kind

2 thoughts on “You Go to Hell, I’m Going to Hawaii

  1. jloveland says:

    Stop the crazy talk Jon Boy. When you realize you’re missing out on six weeks of nice weather per year, the world’s largest twine ball and a place where a movie making fun of us was once made, you’ll be back.

  2. bbenidt says:

    Need a sidekick? I’ll cut the limes and pineapples for you during your bartending stint.
    BTW, you’re an evil bastard.

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