TIKI OASIS IV - How was the Event? How was the Resort? How was The REEF? - California Events

STCB Sabu The Coconut Boy Tiki Socialite Carson, California Joined: Aug 20, 2002 Posts: 2807	STCB Sabu The Coconut Boy Posted posted on Tue, May 11, 2004 2:07 PM Somebody help me out here - Was I in Palm Springs this weekend? I've got a few clues that lead me to believe so. For instance, I find that I now have this Munktiki mug in my display case that's shaped kind of like a magnetically suspended pulsed plasma reaction control thruster, minus the weather-stripping, (you know the type), and an inexplicable tattoo of VintageGirl in a banana skirt on my back. The doctor also says that this liquid I have been passing for the past two days is actually pure Martinique Rum. I also cannot seem to sleep at night for the insane strains of Quiet Village played on a Theremin that keep echoing in my head along with the images of a giant, dancing, shaft-rod-thrusting robot. My wife is no help at all and will only smile enigmatically at me with a raised eyebrow when I ask her what I did last weekend. She has taken to serving me my dinner dressed in a bikini-top and a sarong and folds my napkins like little origami aloha shirts. I don't know what I did to deserve all this, and I'm not complaining... I'm just curious. If I really was in Palm Springs this weekend for Tiki Oasis IV then I need to thank the following people: Doctor Z, Big Al, and the bartenders at the Reef for injecting happy, mood-altering drugs into my body as part of their new Tahitian Noni-Noni Anti-Depression Therapy that I frankly, don't remember paying for. The Fishermen for playing Thelonius Monk as Exotica and thus triggering the final meltdown of my mind and memory, which my doctor says will return someday. I fired that doctor and got a more favorable diagnosis from my new doctor - Doctor Z. He says I need something called a Sazerac. Humuhumu for all the great photos of the 1964 Republican Convention that she just posted. ZuluMagoo for bringing his postcard albums and trading me a bunch of fantastic postcards that will probably save me a hundred dollars in E-bay purchases. All I had to do was trade him a hundred dollars in postcards. What a deal! Whoever left these great Beachbum Burt's glasses in my suitcase. My Wife for the recent electrolysis work. Monkeyman for the stellar effort on the Tiki Central photo board and for bringing enough fresh-squeezed lemon and lime juice for two parties - which limes, by the way, he squeezed individually between his rock-hard biceps. Someone named Tiki Diablo for this cursed idol around my neck that I last saw safely returned to the sacred burial ground in an old Brady Bunch episode. I like it though - and thus have been willing to put up with the tarantulas that crawl across my pillow all night. And everybody else who made this event memorable, in the sincerest, hard-to-remember sort of way. Here are some photos I found in my camera. Smogbreather Otto Monkeyman Laney Crazy Al & LuckyDesigns Tikibelle in a quiet Coffee House in town. Don't know why she's wearing a tag that says "Shake Me. I Chirp", but it's true. You should try it next time you see her. ChikiTiki and Poly Pop closing up shop Sunday afternoon. Sabu [ Edited by: Sabu The Coconut Boy on 2004-05-11 15:54 ]

Somebody help me out here - Was I in Palm Springs this weekend?

I've got a few clues that lead me to believe so. For instance, I find that I now have this Munktiki mug in my display case that's shaped kind of like a magnetically suspended pulsed plasma reaction control thruster, minus the weather-stripping, (you know the type), and an inexplicable tattoo of VintageGirl in a banana skirt on my back. The doctor also says that this liquid I have been passing for the past two days is actually pure Martinique Rum.

I also cannot seem to sleep at night for the insane strains of Quiet Village played on a Theremin that keep echoing in my head along with the images of a giant, dancing, shaft-rod-thrusting robot.

My wife is no help at all and will only smile enigmatically at me with a raised eyebrow when I ask her what I did last weekend. She has taken to serving me my dinner dressed in a bikini-top and a sarong and folds my napkins like little origami aloha shirts. I don't know what I did to deserve all this, and I'm not complaining... I'm just curious.

If I really was in Palm Springs this weekend for Tiki Oasis IV then I need to thank the following people:

Doctor Z, Big Al, and the bartenders at the Reef for injecting happy, mood-altering drugs into my body as part of their new Tahitian Noni-Noni Anti-Depression Therapy that I frankly, don't remember paying for.

The Fishermen for playing Thelonius Monk as Exotica and thus triggering the final meltdown of my mind and memory, which my doctor says will return someday. I fired that doctor and got a more favorable diagnosis from my new doctor - Doctor Z. He says I need something called a Sazerac.

Humuhumu for all the great photos of the 1964 Republican Convention that she just posted.

ZuluMagoo for bringing his postcard albums and trading me a bunch of fantastic postcards that will probably save me a hundred dollars in E-bay purchases. All I had to do was trade him a hundred dollars in postcards. What a deal!

Whoever left these great Beachbum Burt's glasses in my suitcase.

My Wife for the recent electrolysis work.

Monkeyman for the stellar effort on the Tiki Central photo board and for bringing enough fresh-squeezed lemon and lime juice for two parties - which limes, by the way, he squeezed individually between his rock-hard biceps.

Someone named Tiki Diablo for this cursed idol around my neck that I last saw safely returned to the sacred burial ground in an old Brady Bunch episode. I like it though - and thus have been willing to put up with the tarantulas that crawl across my pillow all night.

And everybody else who made this event memorable, in the sincerest, hard-to-remember sort of way.

Here are some photos I found in my camera.

Smogbreather