Before I getz to rapping about the new and improved Pretender Stun Gun, let me tell you about something cool that happened to the Big Kahuna whilst he has been holed up in his bunker. This was to due to Snowmageddon, which Commander Dithers assures us is, in fact, a sign of climate change.

Anyhoose, during one of the first days that mail was deliverable, the Big Kahuna received a package from Cali Forn Ya, and he wasn’t expecting anything at the time. Using his Kahunavision, he scanned the package for any evidence that this was something he might not want.

In the FROM section on the label was a name that the Big Kahuna immediately recognized. It was from Barry Eisler, an author that the Big Kahuna likes, and whom he has promoted whenever he has had a new book released. Eisler has written 7 books previously, and the Big Kahuna has all 7 on his bookshelf.

If you are unfamiliar with Barry Eisler, the titles of his books are fairly easy to remember.

Rain Fall/ Hard Rain/ Rain Storm/ Killing Rain /The Last Assasin/ Requiem For An Assasin/ Fault Line

Most of these books revolve around a cat named John Rain, one of the more imaginative characters on the scene today. John Rain is an assasin, and yet you are strangely sympathetic to him as he goes about his work. That’s all you get, because I don’t like giving away plots, or the end of movies. But you should read them all, and buying all of them would still cost less than going to see a professional baseball game.

Soze the Kahuna opens the package, and it’s a personally autographed advance copy of Eisler’s new book, “Inside Out.” Now, never having received anything like this before, the Big Kahuna sat down and blazed straight through the new book in one sitting. It’s another winner, and it will be available for purchase on May 10th, or somewheres very close to that. And buy the other books too, because I think they’re all out in paperback.

Back to the new and improved Pretender, which is a cell phone stun gun, where we have upped the amps.

(To 4.5 million volts!)

Yessirree Bob, flash fried mook is now on the menu, and it comes at the same low price. We’re throwing in free batteries, and a free holster to boot.

Now just imagine how good you’re going to feel knowing that you now have the power to brighten up a mook’s job prospects by turning him into a Cirque du Soleil acrobat with just the push of a button. And with a couple of shots of voltage you may make him as good as some of those traveling Chinese performers who twist and turn themselves like a guy making balloon animals. The only show better than that would be my heretofore mentioned “Electric Bleachers,” which is the solution to closing Gitmo, but still not acted upon by Commander Dithers.

http://www.bigkahunasecurity.com/pretender-cellphone-stun-gun.htm

Go ahead and pre-order Barry Eisler’s new book “Inside Out” at amazon.com, and read it with a “Pretender” in your pocket. You can even play Jackson Brown in the background.

Stay aware, alert, and have a plan.

Aloha kaua,

Nui (Big) Kahuna

I’ve been working on a few special things lately, and one of them is wrapped and ready to go. I think you’re really going to appreciate this. One of the questions I got fairly frequently was, can I get a stun gun with more power?

Well…now you can.

Using microtechnology…we’ve come up with a mini stun that y’all are familiar with…The Runt, and amped up the power by a considerable degree without changing it’s size. In it’s previous incarnation The Runt delivered 950,000 volts of mook menacing voltage. That was enough to snap the synapses of most of these scum sucking cro-magnons, but now…you can make these bastards breakdance on command because the new Rechargeable Runt has…drumroll please… 4.5 million volts of mookzapping electricity. Enough voltage to knock down the friggin mook and the horse he rode in on.

Now…that’s progress, more power, and the American Way in action.

Not only that, you get a free holster while supplies last.

http://www.bigkahunasecurity.com/runt-stun-gun-rechargeable.htm

Be the first one on your block to become a mook choreographer. (That’s a dance director.)

And stay tuned, because there is more stuff coming soon.

Stay aware, alert, and have a plan.

Aloha kaua,

Nui (Big) Kahuna

Itz been a full ten days since the initial Snowmaggedon hit the Virginia suburbs, and the main street that runs through my little part of the world has still not been plowed. Or salted. Or sanded. In order to negotiate the street you have to put your tires in the grooves worn in to the ice by fellow travelers…and hope that you don’t bottom out, which so far hasn’t happened to me. But others have not been so lucky, and must depend on others to get their vehicle rolling again.

The problem…say the politicians…is that nobody put any money in the budget for snow, or snow removal…because they were all caught up in Fat Al Gore’s theory of global warming, which was being defended by some idiots on Sunday morning talk shows. Ceci Connolly of the Washington Post contended that 2009 was the hottest year ever. Funny then that out of East Anglia…the epicenter of the global warming world…that Phil Jones…heretofore cited by Fat Al on almost a daily basis …now says that there has been no significant warming since 1995…and that the Middle Ages…you remember them, right? The Middle Ages might have been hotter.

And back then we had no Charmin, no deoderant, and as I recall, no running water…or sewage or waste disposal systems. We did have Fat Al’s great great great great great great great great great…grand daddy… one Bubonic P. Gore, who believed that bathing on a regular basis was not a good idea either. I believe it was the American Indians who convinced the Gores that personal hygiene was in fact, a good idea. (I think it was so they could tell the difference between boars and gores…which smelled the same, but tasted remarkedly different, and it saved on arrows.)

So far in 2010 we have shattered the all time snowfall record in the area, which was 56 inches, and currently stands at 61, and winter doesn’t seem to be finished yet. The District of Columbia still hasn’t been plowed either. For those of you who believe the government can manage health care, this should be a lesson. The government that can’t get itz streets plowed in two weeks can’t run a lemonade stand. Hope and change do not the streets plow.

Maybe Obama could take some of that bailout money, and hire some people to shovel snow. You know that $900 billion dollars he just had to have back in 09, of which he hasn’t spent $600 billion, just yet. He could buy some shovels from Lowe’s or Home Depot, and put a whole bunch of people to work.

Now is the time to get your tool kit stocked. When the warm weather hits this year the mooks will be out like thickets of mosquitos after being cooped up all winter.

http://www.bigkahunasecurity.com

Stay aware, alert, and have a plan.

Aloha kaua,

Nui (Big) Kahuna

There is no better way to start the day than by reading an email from someone who has successfully followed my advice. Down in Georgia there’s a smart sumbitch named Chesnell, (that’s his real name), and Ches stocked himself up on tools, not once, but several times, over the past few years.

Ches is never out and about without several options at his disposal, and if another family member is with him…they have a high number of options. On this occassion he was with his 19 year old daughter at a convenience store when a mook tried his hand at armed robbery.

I say tried his hand at it because he certainly wasn’t very good at it. Ches’ daughter was just coming to the counter when the mook demanded that the cashier give him all the money. He was holding what Ches’ daughter correctly identified as a BB gun when he made the demand. The cashier opened the till, but it was about that time that the mook started to experience a live demonstration of what it feels like…to have near a million volts of electricity running through his body.

Ches’ daughter had pulled her Runt 950 rechargeable stun gun out of her pocket and applied it just under the arm of the mook where he was holding the BB gun. The BB gun fell out of the mooks hand, and he started doing a chicken dance that involved him jerking and flailing right into Ches’ fist, whereupon he dropped into a nice slumber.

The cops were called, and when they heard the story all they could say was, “What a dumb sonofabitch.”

A cursory search of the mulletheads car turned up a crack pipe, some speed, and a quart of shine, which according to the cops was one step ahead of turpentine, and nothing any real good ole boy would have been proud of.

The cops examined the Runt, and gave it back to Ches’ daughter. They said they would tell him he got beat up by a girl whenever he came to.

http://www.bigkahunasecurity.com/runtstungun.htm

The long and short of it is: They family that tools up together is a real wrecking crew should the need ever arise, like it did here. Ches says that what he really wanted a chance to use his steel baton, but that he saw the mooks circuits were already fried as he started to dance. A short right was all he needed, and that did the trick.

Just a thought, but couldn’t some of these morons be shoveling snow here? Commander Obama is always talking about those “shovel ready” jobs, so why can’t we put these clowns to work? Maybe then people here could send their kids to school.

Stay aware, alert, and have a plan.

Aloha kaua,

Nui (Big) Kahuna

When I got up this morning and fired up the laptop the first thing I saw was that Captain Phil of the crab fishing boat Cornelia Marie had died. He was 53, which is younger than I am. The television show he was featured on was “America’s Deadliest Catch,” which chronicled the lives of a number of captains and crews that work in some of the most hazardous conditions you can imagine to harvest crab.

While the Kahuna has seen his share of hazardous duty, you wouldn’t find me anywhere near one of those boats unless it were tied securely to the dock. I used to get queasy just watching those guys do their thing on the big screen. I need my feet on solid ground, and just the thought of being on a boat in sub zero weather bouncing around in 30 to 40 foot waves hauling in pots makes me thank god I have another skill set.

Captain Phil started on the boats at age 7, and at 21 was a full fledged skipper. That makes him one tough sumbitch in my book, a friggin hero if I don’t say so myself. Then he spent the next 33 years piloting around the Bering Sea like it was just a small lake. The fact that he made it that long without going down is a small wonder by itself.

A few years back I met a guy named Kevin Thompson, and we’re now good friends. One day he starts telling me that he worked the crab boats in Alaska. (He did 7 seasons.) The difference between Kevin and Captain Phil was that Kevin wanted something else out of life, and for Captain Phil, the boat was life.

Kevin knew it was time to go when he got hit by a 30 foot wave while on the deck. The wave hurled him from one side of the deck to the other, where he left his teeth in the railing. Now the good part of losing his teeth was that it kept him from being tossed in the ocean, where his life expectancy would have been about one minute.

Kevin is now a very successful businessman in the Seattle area, and you better believe that those years on the boat helped him get through some very tough times. He often tells people who are whining, “Maybe you should go do a season on a fishing boat if you think your life is tough.” That usually ends that crap.

Captain Phil, you were a man’s man, a true tough guy, and the world is a poorer place today without you. You saw more action in your 53 years than dozens of men combined.

Rest in peace Skipper, it’s nothing but clear sky and smooth water from here on out.

http://www.bigkahunasecurity.com

Stay aware, alert, and have a plan.

Aloha kaua,

Nui (Big) Kahuna

After living in the same place for twenty two years you get a little tired of the weather boogeyman going on the radio and television and huffing and puffing like the Big Bad Wolf. I’ve lost count of how many killer storms and tornadoes they have warned us against, and then…and then…they never happened.

But the warning they handed out starting last Tuesday night actually came to pass on Friday, when Mother Nature started dishing out the snow at a rate of about one inch per hour, until in my neighborhood we had somewhere in the range of about thirty four inches on the ground. The last time this happened here was in 1989 or 1990, when we got about twenty two inches, and the entire area was paralyzed for days, which is pretty much what’s going on here now.

The federal government is shut down, (you’ll hardly notice the difference), the county is shut down, all the schools are closed, and power is out in a number of areas very close to me, where power lines are above ground, and freezing and falling to the ground.

The solution to all this is quite simple. We need to send a private plane for Fat Al Gore, and bring him here for a chat on global warming. All that hot air, (backed up by the best phony data available), will melt about half the snow pack, which is important because another storm is heading our way, with the promise of dumping an additional twelve to twenty inches of winter wonderland on us.

Fat Al can bring in Ed Begley Jr, Leonardo de Caprio, and all the Hollyweirdoze he wants, and we’ll just attach them to the front of the plows with a bunch of peer review studies that they can recite, which will generate enough heat to clear the roads without any sand or salt. (That would be wasting precious resources.)

Or maybe we can all just move to Southern California, to Ed Begley’s neighborhood, where the sun is always shining, and build solar powered cement ponds, where we can raise sustainable aquaculture, and plant bamboo to build our huts with. We’ll all just drop off our chamber pots at Ed’s place, because he’ll know what to do with an abundance of natural fertilizer.

This is what happens to a great mind when it’s forced to stay home because there is nowhere to go. (I knew I never should have traded in the four wheel drive SUV, which is the only vehicle on the streets today.)

There was this email I received Friday, which had me chuckling as I read it, about a Kahunanite who turned herself into Obi Wan Kanobi by using the force of the Stunmaster Telescopic Stun Baton on yet another dog who skipped out on Dog Whisperer 101. Granny is 64, and her daughter gave her the Stunmaster Telescopic Stun Baton as a birthday present last year, not to train bad dogs, but as a mook deterrent, because her neighborhood ain’t the best.

Granny had done a little grocery shopping, and was on her sidewalk when the mutt decided he wanted some of what was in the bags for dinner. Granny warned him away, swinging one of the bags at him, but he was determined to get what smelled delicious. He lunged again, and Granny decided to get into the phone booth and change. She brought the Stun Baton out of her purse, clicked the button, and when Rover made his move, she made hers.

Rover wasn’t sure what happened, but he didn’t want any food after that. One of Granny’s neighbors came to help, and they both watched the hound run until he was out of sight. The neighbor thought there was something almost biblical about Granny zapping the mutt, sort of like Moses lifting his staff to part the sea. (It was Moses, wasn’t it? I’m not exactly up on my Bible stories.)

http://www.bigkahunasecurity.com/telescopicstunbaton.htm

Mooks, dogs, ghosts, gremlins…none of them stand a chance against the Stunmaster Telescopic Stun Baton.

Stay aware, alert, and have a plan.

Aloha kaua,

Nui (Big) Kahuna

This morning the old lady dropped a none too subtle hint about a special day that is fast approaching. I may be half Cro-Magnon, but I do know the months and days of all important events, including this one, which requires flowers, chocolate, (and in her case…really expensive chocolate from a boutique in New York), and for me to be a tad more…I’m searching for the word here…expressive, if you get my drift.

(Like the 20 plus years I’ve been true blue aren’t enough.)

Over the years I’ve spent what could have bought me a nice boat, or a Massage for Life ticket at Ting Ting, the absolute best massage joint on earth. (And no…I ain’t telling you where it is…not because I don’t like you…but because I never want to have to wait in line when I get there.)

Now the chocolate joint is Neuman’s, which is in Manhattan, and you can order on the internet, much the same as here. (And no, it isn’t the Neuman from Seinfeld, although if you eat the chocolate on a regular basis you could get that size right quick.)

But nothing says “I lu….I lu…I lu…” like a stun gun.

Your old lady may not get it at first, but women are slow on the uptick when it comes to such a thoughtful gift that shows how much you really care. It took Mizzuz K about five years to fess up about how touched she was when I gave her a Hot Shot. (Stun gun)

http://www.bigkahunasecurity.com/hotshotstungun.htm

I remember it clearly, just like it was yesterday, which I’m a little foggy on. She was absolutely awestruck, dumbfounded, speechless, and probably all three at the same time. She probably thought she was getting jewelry of some sort, which she already has a dresser full of, and the look on her face was … priceless… when she saw that I had given her close to a miilion volts of mook stopping voltage. She was so moved that she had to run to the bedroom and lock the door lest her gratitude absolutely overcome her.

I poured a glass of champagne, had a sip, and then opened the malt beverage cabinet to get a real mans drink. I had a few of those, and the next thing you know it was morning. I looked out the window and the Mizzuz car was gone, and there was no breakfast on the counter.

I guess she wanted the Knuckle Blaster. http://www.bigkahunasecurity.com/knuckleblasterstungun.htm

Stay aware, alert, and have a plan.

Aloha kaua,

Nui (Big) Kahuna

I woke up this morning feeling a tad protein deficient, so I grilled up some meat, and washed it down with some of that high test coffee I told you about last week. My wife naturally had something to say about my choice of breakfast grub, but I raised the finger of silence, which insured some peace and quiet while I ate.

The finger of silence is one of those successful marraige tools that you pick up over the years that nobody tells you about when you get married. I always invoke the finger when I haven’t yet downed the requisite amount of coffee necessary to kickstart my brain into normal daily function.

The wife usually invokes the finger when she is carrying in bags of things that have department store logo’s on them. And so it works for both of us. Yesterday I watched in amusement as the Right Reverend Obama spoke to an audience of his peers. (Crooks, con men, shysters, hucksters, thieves, quacks…I mean Democrats.)

It looks like the Right Reverend has decided that he is going to talk us into submission, telling one whopper after another nonstop until November, when it will only be two years until he has to be renominated.

Now last week he said that his spending increase was actually a tax cut for middle Americans, (the most abused term ever coined), that he was fighting the war on terror, (one minute out of every sixty), that health care needed to be passed, that jobs was his number one priority, and that Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell needed to be repealed.

Then yesterday he told his audience that they shouldn’t listen to cable news, which is just a rehash of last years feud with FOX. He managed to remember CNBC, and MSNBC, but his main criticism was aimed at FOX, because nobody watchs the other shows. (Killer Keith Olbermann’s act is down 44%, while O’Reilly is up 55%, and even Democrats rate FOX as the best source of news.)

The Right Reverend doesn’t want you to watch FOX because you might actually get to thinking that HOPE and CHANGE are just so much bee ez, and under his “leadership” the country is going to hell in a handbasket.

He’d rather you watch Obama approved television, such as NBC, CBS, and ABC. That’s where his brown nosing lackeys pontificate on what’s good for you and the country, because youse is too dumb to figger it out for yerselfs.

This morning the Right Reverend is at a prayer breakfast, no doubt telling the audience what God wants, and he’s just the humble messenger. “If you won’t listen to me…then listen to what God wants…and you won’t find that message on FOX.” (Or will we?)

Now I won’t ever claim to be a god squader, but I do remember the concept of free will, which clearly states that you have a choice in how things go, which means that there must be an alternative argument. If you don’t ever listen to the alternative, how are you going to know what the right decision is? And who says the Right Reverend is on God’s side? (When all your friend’s are atheists, there is a high chance that you are too, even if you’re wearing the collar, and quoting all the right chapters and verses.)

Itz that old “watch what I do, not what I say,” and the public is catching up fast. No wonder the Right Reverend is running scarred. Instead of hearing the sweet flutter of twenty dollar bills, he is hearing the tinny clang of spare change in the collection basket.

Keep your eyes open, your ears tuned, and your synapses firing, even as the Right Reverend dangles his pocket watch back and forth, back and forth…no one can be hypnotized against their will.

My good friend the Greedmaster once told his followers that one of keys to weight loss was “Sitdowns.” When asked by a BBW what a “Sitdown” was, he replied, (in true Greedmaster style), that a “Sitdown” was when a Lardassian got the urge to stand up and go get some ice cream, to just “Sit their fat ass down.”

So I have coined “Doodaoppozit.” Whenever the Right Reverend tells you what you should be doing, (which is anytime his mouf is open), “Doodaoppozit!”

As always, when you need something for your personal protection, (udder dan earplugs), call on the Big Kahuna 24/7. We have a huge selection of non lethal gear, just waiting for you to have it sent to wherever you are.

http://www.bigkahunasecurity.com

Stay aware, alert, watch cable news, and have a plan.

Aloha kaua,

Nui (Big) Kahuna

Late last night I received an email from my friend Pete the Printer, who resides in Ohio, where they have a bit of an unemployment problem. Now Pete has a job, he’s been running one business or another for decades, and if you took everything away from him today, he’d be back in business tomorrow, because you don’t ever count Pete the Printer out.

Now one of the reasons I like Pete is that he can spot a fake at a hundred paces, and he sniffed out Obama way before the good folks in Taxachusetts figured things out. But what he sent me doesn’t have anything to do with Barack Hussein, but with his wife, Michelle.

To bring you up to speed on America’s single most popular person, with approval ratings twice as high as her comrade, (er…husband), I’m inserting a couple of Michelle Obama quotes about the people, (ah…proletariat.)

“In my own life in my own small way, I have tried to give back to this country that has given me so much,” she said. “See, that’s why I left a job at a big law firm for a career in public service.” Datz a mouf-full, as they say.

Now, here’s what’s just a wee bit curious about that statement. Somewhere along the line, Sweet Michelle lost the right to practice law. Now exactly why that is… is a matter of speculation, but let me say this, most lawyers do not lose their license to practice law voluntarily. (Like 99.9999% of them.) Some pit bull has to come in and snatch it away from them. In this case, that would be the Bar Association of Illinois, which has sealed all the records of this transaction.

This follows the same pattern of her comrade, (husband), Barack Hussein, who is the only presidential candidate in history that we know nothing about. All his records are sealed. The press has been highly complicit in this, to the point where ole Tingle Matthews even “forgot” he was black. (Somebody take his crack pipe away, please!)

So another quote from my belle, Michelle. “The truth is, in order to get things like Universal Health Care and a revamped Education System, then SOMEONE is going to have to give up a piece of the pie so that someone else can have more.”

Datz velly interesting.

On October 15, 2008, a mere three weeks before Comrade Barack Hussein would be elected President, Michelle the Public Servant rang up a bill for $447.39 at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel in New York City for a little afternoon snack. Now we don’t know who the other person was…except that it wasn’t Oprah…because there were no mashed spuds with horseradish sour cream, which Oprah eats in the afternoon to keep her energy level high.

What…you may ask was on the bill of fare?

2 Lobster Hors D’Oeuvres at $50

2 Whole Steamed Lobsters at $100

1 Iranian Osetra Caviar at $150

1 Bollinger Champagne at $44

(My god…Bollinger? P Diddly is pissing himself.)

With gratuity…and tax…a mere $447.39 for a snack, paid for by a humble public servant.

(Who…excuse me…made $350,000+ as a humble hospital administrator.

(You ever wonder why health care costs are so high?)

And I don’t think she had to get reimbursed by Medicare at .30 cents on the dollar, like the doctors.

Our Belle Michelle didn’t stop there. Since Comrade Barack was sworn in, she has assembled a staff of 22, not counting makeup artist and hairstylist. Mamie Eisenhower, Jackie Kennedy, Rosalyn, Barb, Hillary, and Laura Bush combined for a staff of…8.

The evil Mrs.Bush had one paid staffer.

Miz Michelle has 22+, costing taxpayers ONE MILLION FIVE HUNDRED NINETY ONE THOUSAND TWO HUNDRED DOLLARS in annual salary. That doesn’t count what it costs to transport this menagerie around the world, housing and feeding them at 5***** Star Resorts, such as in Copenhagen, where again, the travel records are sealed.

(The only thing transparent here is the glue.)

But take heart all you Yogi’s and Booboo’s, CHANGE is coming. And unlike Comrade Baracks change,you will know what this is all about. At 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, there is a fog around the White House.

They have forgotten the old adage, “Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me.”

You know, I think I’ll have a snack. I’m going to my cabinet, removing a bottle of Lagavulan, and pouring four stiff fingers in a double rocks glass.

Whooooooey Dawg!

That didn’t cost the taxpayers a thing!

The theme for 2010 is: SEND THEM HOME! Everytime you see and hear another outrage, just say it quietly under your breath. Send them home. Send them home. Send them home.

http://www.bigkahunasecurity.com

Stay aware, alert, and have a plan.

Aloha kaua,

Nui (Big) Kahuna