74-5484 Kaiwi Street Suite A120
Kailua Kona, HI 96740
Hawaii County
Phone: (808) 329-7226
Fax: unknownWebsite: no website on fileEmail: no email on fileHours: unknown
by Benny Jerger on I'm on a boat, motherf***er, take a look at me Straight floatin on a boat on the deep blue [river] Bustin' 5 knot wind, whippin' out my coat You can't stop me, motherf***er, cause I'm on a boat.
by Lloyd Lotton on I reserved a "VIP Party Package" ( which included the use of 2 pool tables for 2 hours for 12 people with light appetizers-a $120 value) at Jillian's a couple of Saturday nights ago. When my party and I arrived and attempted to check in the place was packed and the guy working the pool tables was like, "No one told me about any reservations...." I had to insist that I had a reservation and then I had to insist that I speak with a manager. Only then, finally, did they get us the 2 tables. After that, things went smoothly (the appetizers were good and they brought the expensive beer quickly) BUT it didn't make up for the frustration at the beginning of the night.
by Deb W. on Sometimes I wish I had joined a sorority. Not for the sisterhood, the lifelong friendships or the sense of belonging that they all promise. No, I wish I had joined because sorority girls can vomit at will. Ok, I admit: That's weird....and gross. But I've always been amazed at my friends who - having eaten something that didn't agree with them or drunk too much - would politely excuse themselves, take care of the issue and then get back to business as if nothing had happened. A bizarre paraphrasing of the Elle Woods "Bend and Snap": the soror: "Pivot, Hurl, Return" (PHR). Pivot, Hurl, Return would have been part of the pledging process - somewhere between memorizing the creed and learning how to hold a funnel with your pinky extended. PHR was on my mind as I left Thai & Sushi the other night wondering how food can be so bland and still make one feel so bad. The calamari was basically greasy piles of rubberbands with a side of brown saltwater; and the rolls I ordered (one each tuna salmon and eel), had barely any fish and absolutely no flavor. I tried doctoring them with wasabi, soy and pepper sauce (I don't care what they say - that crap was NOT sriracha), but all I could taste was wasabi, soy and peppers. Even the rice was devoid of that hint of nuttiness and tiny bite of rice wine that pairs so well with delicate slivers of fish. So, with all that "sameness", imagine my surprise when my stomach began the tell-tale rolling lurch that signaled nothing but bad times ahead. Hands shaking, sweat pouring, my innards screaming for mercy; I raced home and .......nothing. I spent the rest of the night cursing my misspent youth and my Marxist (Groucho - not Karl) attitude of not joining any club that would have me as a member. I'm convinced that had I joined Shoota Gamma Rae or Delta Felta Guy, my needless suffering would have been completely avoided through my extensive knowledge of PHR. Years of practicing at frat parties, nightclubs and spring-break bashes would have made me an expert. But instead of the momentary discomfort of a PHR, Thai & Sushi (and my lack of foresight) left me with two agonizing days of ESR: Eat, Suffer, Regret.
