Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Super Hefe 2010

New Hefe goals for 2010. In no particular order...

Get completely healthy and stop my body from constant little stupid annoying breakdown injuries that only non-athletes should get.

Talk to any female.

Quit being a such a fag and dawn patrol when there's surf.

Use more colon cleanse.

Gain control of my career once again by either quitting my job and making my own future, dropping out and moving back to Idaho for a lifestyle filled with shooshing and spandex wearing, or making my boss realize I'm not retard.

Quit eating sugar for 3 months and see how the body reacts. Not candy type sugar, but more like the Chai latte, sugary teryaki sauce, etc kind of hidden sugars.

Getting a stable place to live and have a homebase to dominate.

Living without cable TV for as long as possible. It's been great reading shit and learning. My brain was mush but it's helping me focus for long periods of time.

Commit to the gym 6 days a week, every week. Become more jockish and don't be a pussy and bail when I feel tired.

Get on the bike a shit ton this summer and climb Gibralter at least once a month.

DO NOT GIVE ANY OPINIONS AT WORK. They don't care. Spend my time work on my career away from the office.

Learn more Espanol.

Leave this continent.

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Death comes thrice

Guess what?
Guess what?
I've been out of loop due to no interweb at the trailer park. That's part of being trailer trash that I'm getting used to, pal. But I'm sitting here at Coffee Bean logged on like a common vagrant, and I read about the beloved Sports Machine operator, George Michael died. Not to be confused with George Michael, the more arsty, bathroom humping half of WHAM. Poor guy. He was on late sunday nights pressing imaginary buttons on a crappy green screen while it sounded like the whole show was dubbed in Turkey. Sports this, jocks that, blah, blah blah. I watched it anyway because back then, we only had 3 fucking channels. That's all. But what this dying really means is another tri-fecta of death. First it was Brittany Murphy, now Mr Michael. Who's next? Who leaves this mortal coil and completes the circuit? Maybe it's old man Farve who takes a licking on an icey LAAAAAAMMMMBBBOOOOO FIELD. Or maybe Lindsay Lohan blows out a nostril and heart valve simultaneously on New Years Eve. Could it be one of the Jersey Shore guidos head literally fawkin pops. That Charlie Sheen is a loose cannon. Dear god in heaven, I wish it was Carrot Top. I've been hoping it was him forever. My previous picks of chain smoking Swayze and Ted Kennedy have sadly, passed away, so I've got nothing. I'm grasping at straws. I know I'm forgetting about someone. Who can it be? If you guess correctly, you get 1 free bar of Surf Wax, and a douching in Holy Water, you voodoo loving spawn of satan. Time's a tickin, lock them in TODAY!

Thursday, December 24, 2009

Happy Feats of Strength

From my humble little homestead by the sea to your beautiful home, Merry Christmas (Happy Hanukkah to all my non-gentile friends). May we all get tremendous swell of some kind tonight, manana, and forever.

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Revenge of the Synth

Take a nice Kajagoogoo, grab your Bananarama and hunker down to nice spot of British Synth. Parts 1, 2, & 3 of 10.

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Ski Maui

I feel like I should hate this. I don't. It's not my bag, but it's more legit than SUP dorks.


Monday, December 21, 2009

Let's dance!

Not a whole helluva lot going on around Recluse Headquarters. Just your normal levels of rage and anger followed by extreme mellowness and joy. Surfed Rincon all fucking weekend and had a great time. For the most part I was able to surf the rivermouth all by myself. Everybody was up top or in the cove. Not sure why, but it was great. Lots of gay-ass waves in the waist to shoulder high range. A few topped out at around head high. And super clean. Eventually some a-holes took notice and tried to steal my thunda. I kinda burned some backpaddling, stink-bugging, Pit Crew dork. I let him get all his yelling out of his system and laughed in his face with barely saying a word. Then his buddy burned me. Touchee, my friend. Last friday, we had our Company Christmas party. Didn't really feel like going, but I felt I oooowed it to them. So I sat quietly, spaced out, stuffed my face, and watched the clock till an acceptable time to bail. Then I made my break and never looked back. We might have a solid week of surf coming through, so I've pulled the plug on driving to Sun Valley, Idaho. It would be rad to see all my olf friends up there, but they'd don't have squat for snow. Instead, I'm staying in Santa Barbara and hope to surf myself out over the next couple weeks while on vacation. Happy surfboarding!

Thursday, December 17, 2009

Understanding the ho-hoo

It's important to go into negotiations with as much information as possible.

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Homelessness 101

One thing I've learned while being homeless by choice, is that I've got plenty of spare time. There's no couch to sloth on for a couple hours each night. Obviously I'm single. Add to that my lack of TV, I've got plenty of minutes to kill. So I go to gym more often and work on my pecs. I've also found the time for more yoga for stretching out the hammy's. I call and bug friends. Or read. Or just stare blankly and think funny thoughts. Or I hang out at coffee shops more than usual. Which leads me to another thing that I've learned. Lord-loving nutbags drink a fuckload of coffee and kill their time at Starbucks in Montecito. Last night, this old windbag and her daughter started chanting then yelling about her old man, a Jewish carpenter bum named Jesus. As she was saying her goodbye's to all of us, yet nobody in particular, she took the words right out of my mouth...."I'm bringing you a nice almond bread whether you like it or not." I might've ended it with, "now go fuck yourself". But to each their own.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Where 2

So after dwelling on the past yesterday, it's time to look towards the future. Think futuristically. I need to plan my next vacation. March or April. I need a warm water surf vacation and I need to get away from my desk. The last few years, its always been Mexico. Several little towns north of Zihatenajo is where I've burned 100% of my sacred vaction time and long weekends. Honestly, I've got that shit wired. And now that my buddy is putting the finishing touches on his El Stabbin Cabana, I've got a free place to crash and an F150 to drive. It's all too easy and pretty cheap. No struggle. Not really an adventure. It feels like coming home and people down there know me. It feels like Southern California, only less Mexicans and more aging Parrot Heads and Stand Up Paddle Dorks. Which is why I may have to switch it up this year. Some place new to me. But in April? I'm not much of a boozer or partier these days, so I don't need night life. Maybe a mellow coldie or two at some bar with a sand floor and I'm good to go. Where should I go to focus on surfing and sleeping? Bali, too early? Peru, too early, too cold? Pavones? Sumatra? Oz? I'm thinking warm water, good swell in April, relatively budget, and mellow crowds for 3 weeks of decompression. That's all.

Monday, December 14, 2009

End of Oh Nine

Holy FUCK! Can you believe it's the end of the world...ooops I mean end of the decade. 10 years ago I had never even held a surfboard, broken a bone, been outside the US (except for Cananda), had a hemmoroid, driven a $900,000 car, flown in a private jet, shot rabbits dead, sunbathed naked, driven over 140 mph, lived in an Airstream, survived Y2K, lost damm near everything in the stock market only to gain it all back a few years later then lose most of it again, freaked out quit the job and taken a 3-month sabbatical, seen the mainland US get attacked by terrorists, been homeless, had a roommate that gets 2 hookers in the same night, knew a true Mass-Hole, seen a grown man stuff his junk into a wedding ring box for the old Dick-In-A-Box trick and still have room inside left over, surfed The Hollister Ranch, seen Oprah in person or had conversations with any Baldwins, thrown a good punch, yelled at a 10-year-old loudmouth surf kid who was yelling at me and felt like punching him, showed up to work at 8:00 am Vegas trade show still drunk from the night before, slept in the middle of a Vegas trade show booth, had to piece together a night at a trade show in Vegas from my strip club reciepts all of which I later expensed (thank you Bruce), had a stupid Facebook page, been to 20 year high school reunion, or had so much fun complaining about everything in my fucked up life via this retarded blog. Good times, assholes. And here's many more from 2010-2019.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Dr Bone

I've driven past this car so many times. I laugh my face off every time. This slick, sick bastard. Dr Bone plates on a pimp ass, James Bond looking Jaguar. I'm sure he's some orthopedic surgeon who gets some twisted pleasure outta callin himself the Doctor of Bonein. "Come see the good doctor, and let me cure what ailin ya", he says, with pile of boufont chesthair peeking over of the top of his seductively unbuttoned doctor's jacket. Cue the porn music, lean back in the chair, pour some Colt 45, and dim the lights. It's on.

Friday, December 11, 2009

The Urban Camping Experience

Brothers and sistas, I have some exciting news. I'm breaking up the 1 man hippy commune and grooving on down the road. No more lurking around bars and coffee shops until the cover of darkness affords me access to the Silver Bullet. No more waking up before dawn just to get off the property before the tenant wakes up and notices a squatter. And no more FREE camping. Unless I find a new killer pad, see you at Faria for the next couple weeks, man.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

The McShit is back

I was drivin around LA, MAlibu and The Valley delivering orders yesterday listening to Mark & Brian on the radio. Funny shit. They were talking about the McRib. Saying it was strange that it keeping coming then going, appearing, then disappearing. They said it was some kind of cult thing. People get stoked when it's back. People were calling saying they were heavenly. So I had to try one of these fuckers, stat! $2.69 later I had one of these piles of shit resting on my lap. I pulled over along Washington Blvd in Marina Del Rey to really get down with myself. It was like opening the Ark of the Covenant in Raiders of the Lost Ark. GLORIOUS! BEHOLD! It's beautiful. First thing was the BBQ sauce. It was really fucking good. Probably full of hormones, MSG, and really bad shit. Next was the meat like patty of death. The shape of that thing was very wrong. It was like the mcnuggets that come in 3 distinct shapes every time. It was shaped like Madagascar with a tumor on each end and 3 mountain ranges. The texture was like a silky, crinkle cut Salsbury Steak that tasted like a mystery meat product. Not really rib like, yet not very burgery. It was good, It went down great and I could've shoved a couple more in the piehole, but I already felt dirty and cancerous. My gut was already asking "what the fuck?" And I continued to feel like ass the rest of the day. I doubt I will ever need one again. You should try one.

Saturday, December 5, 2009

Dude is such a dick

Fucken Bill Dough, that lucky mother fucker. Dude got the best news ever last week...he's gettin shitcanned. And it's E-L N-I-N-O! His suit and tie job was killin him anyway, so good riddence. They blocked his internet so he couldn't receive the necessary porn and Facebook to make each day tollerable. It also looks like he couldn't time it any better with this monster storm headin our way. Now he has all the time in the world to eat at Burgerville, drink PBR, and slash some waves. Too bad Oregon has no surfing.

Friday, December 4, 2009

Mexico 2010

December's so rad. Next week I make the last 2 delivery runs of 2009. A few days on the road slapping high fives ain't so bad. Then a week of inventory bullshit followed by a mellow couple days before Christmas Vacation. This year I'm headin to God's Country....Sun Valley, Idaho. Nearly 2 weeks of catchin up with old friends while shooshin, eating, swillin, and chillin is in store for me. If I can find some other rallyers, I might hit up Jackson Hole and Soldier Mountain while I'm in the area. Then once I get back, the 2010 Paid Vacation fund gets a full refill. Next thing you know, it's Mexico in March. And all along we've got El Nino throwing storms at us every few days. Here's Bye Bye Bybee and I waiting for the rig at some Mexi Jiffy lube. Just days before the Pig Flu explosion and we're lurking directly in the hot zone. Maybe next year I won't come back.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

half & half

So the Warren Miller Dynasty flick wasn't so bad. Nothing great. It didn't piss me off, so that's good. But it was once again, predictable. The editing nearly pissed me off, by just barely escapes my wrath this time. Usually they go real slo-mo and show one turn or don't show the landing. This time they had a few full runs mixed in with lots of short clips. Many classic fottage from the 40's & 50's and shit. Lots of skiers wigglin, but very little shreddin. Probably a 95/5 ratio, shred to wiggle. The shred shown was decent, but by no means epic. It's as if WM wants to continue with the 1993 era that all about baggy, rave style pants, wide stances, and angry shooshers. Also, I wanna strangle that little 9 year old rat that rides for Burton. She already needs to get punched. Hard. Overall, I give it a 5 out of 10 mainly for it's big mountains, production quality, and pow shots. I also liked the basic story lines. They're only skiers, so nothing deep except for the China bit. It's just dudes riding shit, living a great life, having fun.

Speaking of fun, I haven't said it lately, but day jobs SUCK BIG HAIRY DONG. It's the antitheseis of living a great life and having fun. That's basically what kept going through my mind during the flim. Every asshole who's ever lived in a ski town then went back to the real world has said..."they were the best years of my life". Fuck that. I don't understand why the best years have to end while your still living. Fuck. I may have fallen into that trap, kind of. I'm borderline real-world job guy. Hopefully next year I'll finally grow some balls and create a way to shred the hils for 6 months and the tropics the other 6, like I've always wanted. And still make some dinero. I've got the mountain job dialed in. Now I just need the Indo gig. Maybe I found a New Years resolution for once.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009


The 2009 Warren Miller movie is in town tonight...WHOOPIE! I've been attending these things every year for about 25 years. First in Porkland, where Warren would get on stage and narrate the movie. Then Sun Valley, Idaho, where, in 1939, he lived in a teardrop trailer for the winter, shot rabbits to feed his face, and lived off ketchup soup and $39 the entire winter. Then in Seattle, and now Santa Barbara. Year after year, they seem to be getting shitier and shitier. Everything about the WM movies seem so stale and stuck in the 90's, before Teton Gravity, Mack Dawg, Robot Foot, Standard, etc, came along. It's mostly stupid 2 plankers, with a little snowshreddin thrown in. And usually, the shredding they include is boring as fuck. I hope they don't include some of the stupid aerial fags gettin all twisty and stuff. That shits gotta go the way of ballet skiing....dis-a-fuckin-pear. But attending the flicks is a habit. It just seems like the historic kickoff to ski season. Plus we don't get any of good shred movie premiers around here. So I'll plunk down the $20 and dream about traveling to giant mountains, with gnarly chutes, and endless fields and pillows of epic, fluffy pow. I'll start do math in my head to see if I can justify spending $6K on a weeklong heli trip to Alaska. It'll make me tear up a little when they say..."if you don't do it today, you'll be one year old when you do". I bought lottery tickets yesterday.

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

2 down-21 to go

Second night of urban camping in the Airstream was as rad as the first. 9 hours of solid sleep in a toasty warm, quiet, man-cave shaped like a Coors Light Silver Bullet. Actually, it's not really camping at all. But since I'm wedged between 2 hedges, a couple big water tanks, and a yard debris trailer, on a large estate in Summerland, it feels like camping. Only no fire pit, midgets, or strippers. My mission is to slip in after dark and leave before the people wake up and notice a random car parked. Keeping the lights low and the noise down. Shower at the gym and just come back for sleeping purposes. If they notice, no big deal. I'll fire up the truck and drag the mobile condo down to the beach and live at Faria. It's just easier and free this way. Oy!

Monday, November 30, 2009


Wow, another weekend of highs and lows. Let's start with Turkey Day. A friend from Idaho was in town who happens to have access to The Hollister Ranch. So we cruised up there late morning after checking the buoys and forecast. Everything was pointing to waist high at best, so I grabbed the 9'4" Weber and the big 7'0" Christenson single fin. Wrong! After our first sight of Razor Blades reeling along at head and half and I knew I picked the wrong boards. We surfed Drakes at a foot over head to nearly double overhead. Big as fuck with sets that looked like folded over football fields that lined up for 200+ yards. Long drops leading to big, crankin bottom turns lead to high speed haulin of ass. It was awesome to be able to fully lay into it and kind be on my game. Then I came home to Thanksgiving ribs and jumbalya with the rommates. Good day.

Friday was okay. Surfed Sharks Cove and Mira Mar, but it was just okay.

Saturday began promising. Watched some questionable Mira Mar for about an hour, but didn't get wet. I figured I'd go somewhere else to grab some surf and come back for an afternoon, low tide sesh. So I cruised down to the harbor. It was lookin fun with occasional great sets pumpin through. Tubes everywhere. Tubes an pockets that leisurely reeled along the sandbar. Curren was out there killin it on a boogey board. I wasn't really feelin it, but I decided to jump in anyway and force myself. Wrong again. Second wave I went for was about 2 feet at best. I went over the bars faster than you can say "fucking kook" and drilled my neck into sand covered by about 2" of water. As I'm tumbling across the sand I realized I've still got feeling in my toes and fingers so all is well. A little groggy I surfed for another hour and caught a few fun little pockets but no barrels. My neck is fucked. REALLY fucked. I went back to Mira Mar to see what was happening. It was overhead, offshore, and looked like perfect Rincon rivermouth. Since my neck was jacked, I couldn't dominate the lineup with my devestating backhand attack. I fucking suck.

Then sunday, I moved out of my house and I'm officially homeless. All my shit is in my buddy's barn and I'm living in an Airstream plugged into an outlet behind some bushes on the same property. Stealth mode cuz the tennants in the main house wouldn't be stoked that there's squatters on the property that they pay a fuckload for. Hopefully they don't notice my car. Last night I slept like a champ...nearly 11 hours.

No pics cuz I don't know which box my A/V cables are in. But here's some vid of the harbor on an epic day...

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Happy T-Day Eve bitches

News report from The Onion...
NEW YORK—For the fifth straight year, Jordan McCabe will return home for the holidays and spend the night before Thanksgiving running into every smug and unlikable asshole he ever went to high school with, the 26-year-old reported Monday.
The trip back home, scheduled for later this week, will reportedly bring McCabe face-to-face with an endless string of pricks from his past, each of whom he will have to engage in awkward conversation, and generally pretend to be happy about seeing again.
"They're all going to be there," said McCabe, purchasing an Amtrak train ticket for Rochester, NY. "Every last one of them, just as shitty and conceited and phony as ever."
"I can't believe I'm going to see all those assholes again," McCabe continued.
Though he will initially intend to stay at home with his parents, grandparents, and other relatives, McCabe told reporters that after spending approximately five hours in their company, he will grow antsy, borrow his father's car, and drive to nearby Marleybone Pub. There, McCabe expects to bump into at least five insufferable assholes in the first three minutes.
"Guaranteed Ricky Cook will be there," said McCabe, adding that there isn't much else to do in his hometown. "And probably Vanessa Torres, and that dickhead Michael Schmidt. Yeah, Schimdt will definitely be there. Probably be hammered, too."
At Marleybone, McCabe will be required to partake in a number of unpleasant activities, including making small talk with several assholes who used to openly mock him during high school, and reminiscing about the "good old days" of which he was never a part. While the consumption of alcohol will initially make the evening more tolerable, McCabe is ultimately expected to leave the bar after realizing he has just as little in common with all these assholes as he did when he was 15.
"Katie Reynolds will probably come up and give me a big hug like we're the best of friends, even though she never once talked to me during school, and pretty much acted like I was invisible the whole time," McCabe said. "Boy, I can't wait to hug that bitch again."
After leaving Marleybone, the 26-year-old predicts he will patronize Bud Murphy's Tavern, a favorite haunt for locals, where an even greater number of assholes are expected to congregate in even higher densities.
Assholes such as Craig Horble, Kyle Davis, Vinny Iagosa, Brittany Pipitone, Justin Smigowski, Nick Casey, and Nick's asshole brother, Dennis.
According to McCabe, all the assholes in attendance will look the same except for being 10 to 20 pounds heavier, and possibly sporting a new beard or goatee. However, that same old shit-eating grin will still be on all their faces, McCabe reported.
If previous years are any indication, assholes who live in the area will not be the only ones out the night before Thanksgiving. Like McCabe, who since graduation has moved to New York, many Marshall High School alumni are expected to return from their new homes all across the country.
"I bet Bill Harding is going to show up and talk about his big lawyer job in San Francisco," McCabe said. "I can see it now: 'You know, hours are a real bitch. Money's good, though.' I've known that guy since fifth grade. He's always been an asshole."
Early reports indicate that the mingling of assholes will likely trigger a fight between the hours of 1 a.m. and 2 a.m., with a scuffle expected moments after two giant assholes argue over who rushed for more touchdowns during senior year. McCabe said that he usually tries to avoid any involvement in these fights, but nonetheless anticipates an elbow to his forehead or at the very least a spilled drink on his pants.
"[Wayne] Maldonado just loves to run his mouth, especially when it comes to talking shit about people's girlfriends," McCabe continued. "He used to be kind of scary when we were all in school, but the guy is almost 30 now. I feel kind of bad for him."
Though he remains anxious about the inevitable fracas, McCabe explained that those experiences are usually counterbalanced with more pleasurable events, such as finding out which assholes now have kids.
"I heard Marissa Feely got knocked up this year," he said. "What is that? The third time?"
The 26-year-old is not the only one dreading the upcoming week. Several Marshall High School alumni have expressed similar misgivings about running into former classmates on the night before Thanksgiving.
"I can't believe McCabe is coming back," said local resident Ricky Cook. "That guy's such a fuckin' asshole."

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Food fight

A quick little search for "stop motion fight" on youtube and I found this awesome vid. I love the night vision destruction.

Monday, November 23, 2009

Groundhog Day

Lots of water time this weekend. It began early saturday with some really fun, crowded surf at Rincon. Then it was time to move up the road a bit to escape and get in some wrongboarding. Here's a rare pic of my stock run these days. Drop...grab rail/turn board...squat low...hang on till the bitter end. Just trying to tuck into the pocket and slide my hand along the lip as it breaks. Wave after wave, that's all I did. I can't stop it. I might not have made even one bottom turn. But it's so much fucking fun.

Friday, November 20, 2009

Rockford Files

I've wanted to live in an Airstream ever since spending 3 weeks in Mexico with one as home base. It was parked 30 feet from the sand. Me and a couple bros would slash some waves all day then come back to the air-conditioned trailer parked in the hot sun. It always looked like a beautiful, cold Silver Bullet blazing away. We'd hop in the pool next door and throw some food in the piehole. Then we'd start the boozin, burnin, and bean bombs. It was great. I may finally get to live the dream again. I'm in home limbo for the month o' December. My buddy offered the use of his pimp ass Airstream again. I may have to park that bitch down at Faria and live like Jim Rockford. This could get really good.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Backlit barrel

Mid-day mini sesh due to new server installation.
Heavy offshores.
Chest to head high with pockets.
Building steep NW swell.
Long stretch of drivable beach.
Me and 2 buddies with a peak to ourselves.
Then sat and watched these guys getting pitted so pitted at a peak just north.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009


Check out some nature on your cuntputer.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Super Shaper

Ryan Lovelace....Who the fuck is that assclown, you ask? I wouldn't be callin him an assclown if I was you because, for starters, he's next in line to fight heavyweight Fedor Emilianenko, he's 10 feet tall, and shoots lightning bolts out his arse. No, no, no. Not really, I lied. He's a mellow, artsy, guitar pickin surfboard shaper here in Santa Barbara who enjoys drawing dragons and taking short, strenuous walks to Starbucks with his faithful showdog, Herbie. He hails from the great state of Warshington which I hear has absolutely no surf anymore. Dude's been creating some great stuff and I keep seein more and more rippers on his Point Concept surfboards. Check out Morgan's Super 8 docuMANtary of his shaping shack shenanigans.

Monday, November 16, 2009

Opening Day

My newest MRSA came at decent time I guess. It's been flat, to say the least. So I ain't missing anything. While I was gimped up over the last week, some amigos up in the Pacific Northwest called in healthy and went shooshing. Shred season offically started up there when Baker fired up their lifts on the 2009/10 season. Enjoy these video reports from The Tackledbox, Snowone, and TJ Schneider.

The Snowboard Realms Season 3 episode 1 from tj schneider SNOWBOARD REALMS VI on Vimeo.

nikon, canon, nikon, canon from BB on Vimeo.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Wine and cheese

Not much new to report these days. The sun is setting early and the days are getting shorter. There's a fall crispness to the air and the smell of fresh rain grows more common. Snow is flying and resorts all over these Untied State of America have begun to fire up their lifts. Oh and I've got mother fucken MRSA again. Second time in 2 months. So my leg is oozing some puss and shit from a bumpy, cottage cheese looking shit thing on my other leg, and I've got some gout fucking shit thing in one toe. I give up. The losing streak continues. Go fuck yourself 2009.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

so you're saying there's a chance?

The Brown Recluse may live and reside in the 'guest house' of a posh, 200-acre (0.81 km2) beachfront estate, known as Robin's Nest, in A Secret Location in Santa Barbara County, at the invitation of its owner, Name Withheld, the celebrated-but-never-seen author of several dozen lurid novels. Ostensibly this is quid pro quo for Recluse's services based upon Recluse's claimed expertise in security; the pilot suggests Recluse also did Masters a favor of some kind.

In addition, Robin’s Nest is guarded by two highly-trained Doberman Pinschers, Zeus and Apollo, and all other aspects of the estate are managed by Englishman Jonathan Quayle Higgins III, an ex-British Army Sergeant Major with whom, often as a humorous aside during various episodes of the series, Recluse must barter for use of estate amenities other than the guest house and the Ferrari 308 GTS (e.g., tennis courts, wine cellar, expensive cameras, etc.). During early seasons of The Brown Recluse the voice of Robin Masters, heard only a few times per season, was voiced by Orson Welles.

The Brown Recluse seemingly lives a dream lifestyle: he comes and goes as he pleases, works only when he wants to, has the almost unlimited use of a Ferrari 308 GTS as well as many other of Robin Masters’ luxuries. He keeps a mini-fridge with a seemingly endless supply of fictional Coops beer, wears his father's treasured Rolex GMT Master wristwatch,[2] is seemingly surrounded by countless beautiful women (who are often his clients or victims in the cases he solves) and enjoys adventures with his buddies Rick and T.C., both former Marines he served with in the Vietnam War.[3]

Big Wednesday a couple years ago...

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

More Morgan

There's gonna be an onslaught of Morgan Massen during the winter of 2009-10. It's gonna be rad, too. Dude's been putting out some incredible surf and travel pics & vids for a while now. They never look cliche and always kick ass. This year it looks like he's steppin it up with some tropical travels planned all fucking winter long.

Here's a mellow little test vid from rincon a few weeks back. I'm really diggin the cranking turn at 1:31. How bout the epic leash yank at 4:07???


Monday, November 9, 2009

Round 2

The past weekend brought a bunch of waves around these parts. I even logged a tiny amount of tube time. I had no other choice. I was locked into a nice shoulder high pocket and the thing collapsed right in front of me. All I had to do was my patented maneuver...squat down, grab rail, and stall it a little. Any retard coulda ducked inside and squeezed on through. I'm just stoked that I was that retard since I'm not really known for my barrel riding skills. That was my friday night sesh after a long 2 days dropping off shit at surf shops from Seal Beach to San Diego. Good times. The rest of the weekend brought me alot of fun waves and a brand new case of THE MRSA. Fuckin A right, I'm gross, infected, and oozing from my leg...again. I just can't seem to catch a fucking break in 2009. But there's hope for 2010. Big news possible in mid-december.

Remember this song? It's ridiculous. It's a little known fact that it was originally titled "The MRSA Strikes Again"...

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Cold Fickle & Sharkey

It turns out there will NOT be any storm hitting the Washington or Oregon Coast starting tomorrow and lasting into early next week. Sorry everybody. The swell that I was so wrecklessly and fraudulently overhyping just yesterday has drastically changed course and it's completely gone. Not a wisp of a wave anywhere. Please change your travel plans. Just stay the fuck home and watch tv or something. It will be bathtub flat along every single nook and gorgeous cranny of the Pacific Northwest. No waves unless you're all Stand Up Paddleboard Super Waterman Guy/Girl. I repeat, DO NOT GO TO WASHINGTON AND OREGON FOR SURFING. I've personally witnessed 17 death by sharks and 42 freezings to death from the very cold water. Another 8 surfers died just from boredom during the long flat spells. On top of everything, there's been a tsunami, earthquake, landslide, fire, and massive outbreak of the anal swine flu and the entire state has been not been heard from in 48 hours. All are feared lost. So in conclusion...there's no storm, absolutely no surf of any kind, and it's a fucking bloodbath up there.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009


To everybody in the NW...Are you ready to ruuuummmmmmmmmmbbbbllle????? Check your surf report, you sweater wearin mud hippies. Then tell me this weekend doesn't look fucken epic. Fake your death, quit your job, burn down your office, cheat, lie, or do whatever it takes to get to the Straits for this upcoming storm. This thing looks so rad. If it comes in like they predict, EVERY-FUCKIN-THING will be working. My personal fav would be Twins, but there's many more to choose from. It's a great time live in mossy old Warshington and have a watertight van to spend a long stormy weekend surfing, slothing, farting, and building campfires. If you go through Neah Bay, buy a pile of smoked salmon from an Indian guy on a side street somewhere around Washington Street and 1st Ave. Dude knows how to roast endangered fish over flames. Yum Yum Yum!

Grape as fuck

I've been eating a lot of grapes recently and none of this happened. I must've selected the wrong grapes.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009


Nirvana released the album Bleach in the summer of 1989. Fucken Eh, has it been that long already? Those were good times, mang. No responsibilities, swimming in booze, very little working. To celebrate the 20 anniversary, Sub-Pop is re-releasing Bleach along with a bonus CD from their 1990 gig at the Pine Street Theater in Porkland. I might have been at that show. Somewhere around then, I went to see Mudhoney play and they were the opening act. We'd heard the name around town, but nobody had seen them yet. Obviously, they fucking blew the doors off. I had no idea they'd get bigger than the Pacific Northwest though. I always thought that show was at the Satyricon. My mental picture says Satyricon, but maybe it was the Pine Street. Over the years, the memory has gotten very fuzzy.

Not a song from the album, but great footy from 1990....

Monday, November 2, 2009

Isla Fucking Vista

UCSB destroys their liver every Halloween. Only 25,000 drunks showed up this year, so the number was way down from their expected 50,000. Officers were still able to arrest 311 revelers and issue 720 citations, an increase from last year when police made 234 arrests and doled out 551 citations. So an "Atta Boy" goes out to the Fuzz. Maybe the attendence was way lower because in this down economy, they couldn't afford the slutty nurse, slutty football player, slutty princess, or slutty Paris Hilton costumes. I dunno. Man, if I would've known about this when I was 18, I might have signed up for college. Check out this brief vid. There's a boob grab and possible nip slip at 1:40.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Saiga Sunday

Actually, this should be titled Saiga Saturday since I went to shooting range yesterday. I went blasting with the new Russian Hunting Rifle rifle for the first time. While I was there, I also shot some other dude's Commi Pinko Chinese SKS. I have no accuracy but don't really care when it comes to paper. It's boring to target practice with stupid paper. I need shit that blows up. That's the fun part. Next time I got to the free-for-all shooting range up in the hills. That's where I don't have to care about accuracy and I can lay down some suppressive fire and power out some destruction on pumpkins, water bottles, and random shit.

Friday, October 30, 2009

Happy Halloween Bitches

Hope ya'll get wasted and fall down on someone special.

"Vampires are flashy dressers"

How To Find A Masculine Halloween Costume For Your Effeminate Son

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Peak Season Part 2-BAF Strikes Back

The trailer for Canadian eXtreme Reality MTV show, Peak Season has been all over the webs. And I'm fascinated by it. The idea is solid...get a bunch of drunken, whoring, fighting, snowshreddars and film their lives. So simple yet so incredible. But before they could do that, MTV Canada went on a coke binge and had sex with Laguna Beach, The Hills, Fall Out Boy, Von Dutch and Christian Audiger. What got crapped out is the shittiest look at snowboarding since Neff and Lucas Magoon. The midwest will love this shit.

I ran across this video below on Board As Fuck blog, which is from a bunch of pro-shreds where mostly they take turns calling each other homos. It's great. Looks like their reality crossed paths with the fake reality. I guess you're not supposed to speak when reality is being filmed.

40 in Venice

One of my all time favorite bros is turning 40 years old on Halloween. Which is a perfect day for dude's B-Day cuz he's an animal. I'm old and broken, and rarely get out of the Lazy Boy. Dude's still raging like it's 1999. He lives/parties/fights in Santa Monica these days. One of the last times we hung out, around 3am we punched each other in the face and I'm still fuzzy why. He sent me this invitation text a while back... "yo sucka, u gtta com dwn 4 my 40th this hallows eve...lots of Shrooms, X, and women!". Tempting, but I may be too much of a pussy. I'm no spring chicken.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Give us our hipsters back, please

A couple months ago, some Berkeley Hipsters decided it was a good idea to go on vacation to Iraq during wartime. Oy! What were they thinking. They didn't even know where the Iran/Iraq border was located. The little man in Memmbers Only jacket snatched them the second they stepped over the line with their cutoffs, knee high socks, retro glasses, American Apparel tees, fixed gear bikes, and shitty rapping. Okay Iran, we're sorry. But can we have our hipsters back so we can beat them with witled celery ourselves?

Monday, October 26, 2009

Diet Food

Behold the Grilled Cheese with Bacon Sando. The World's Greatest Sandwich. It's what athletes eat for dinner. You'll see 6 slices of bacon sizzling, but only 5 made it inside. One delicious Maple Flavored slice got scarfed as a appetizer. Next time I'll start with 7 slices and have 2 appetizers. So you want line up the bacon shoulder to shoulder and form a full layer wedged between the cheese. Maybe, if you're a fat-ass, you want to double the amount of bacon and make some sort of criss cross pattern with your bacon. The cheese needs to be next to the bread so it welds your sandwich shut. Just like it's going to do later to your colon. If I was to slice up a pig, I'd make bacon strips that are roughly 5.5 inches square. That way they'd fit on bread without any gaps and you'd have a little overhang. Tonight, since I "need" to use up the bacon, I might add some avocado.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Speed test

This big fat fly was looking to put 10 toes over. So I got him up to 40mph. Then he bailed.

"whoa" at 1:16...

The Hills Whistler

Whistler, eh. I always found it full of Moosehead, hot mountain chicks, Asprin with codeine, weed, hockey, Bob & Doug McKenzie, curling, monkeys, and epic snowshredding. I guess I never saw the "real" Canada. Looks like the documentary's sponsored By Ed Hardy, Affliction, Hot Chicks With, and Bitch Boards.

stoke level high

Looks like a few storms line up to pound California's coast with good waves and beautiful fall weather. Get your friends together and get after it everybody.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009


I've selected the theme song and title for my upcoming, undetermined, unbegun, underfunded, adventure film...Freedom Run. FREEDOM RUN. Let it sink in and feel the good times. Then clean yourself up and look alive. It's the centuries old struggle of good against evil. A young, Adonis-like man, casting away the suffocating shackles of an evil boss, an unjust society, and the unstoppable need to escape the mundane. He loads up the Suburban with Ibuprofen, wax, a 6'0" fish, 6'4" stubbie, 6'5" single fin, and many other boards for a balls-to-the-wall shredfest of epic proportions. It's the richeous man giving the finger to the evil forces from the Empirical Zog Industries and Dell Inc. Suck it, 9-5 bitches! The tale begins with slavery and ends with the sweet freedom of heaving, left hand, tropical pointbreaks and naked fat chicks. May da Schwartz be with him.

Motherfucking Kyuss to the rescue.
Life begins at 2:10....

lay days for days

The WCT Rip Dildo Search Portugal is off to another shitty start. 2 lay days due to crap conditions. Seems like another year of questionable surf for the world's best surfers to compete in. At least there's a great title race to keep it interesting. It's totally up in the air going into the last couple events. This one needs to happen the next few days, so I can watch it at my desk. Maybe some solid surf coming over the next few days over there. I'm staying positive that I'll get some quality webcasting for on-the-clock viewing.

I wish they were getting some of this...

Monday, October 19, 2009

Clear skies

Caught behind this rocket scientist for about 40 minutes today from Newbury Park to the 101/405 interchange. If you can't tell, she had her wipers blasting the whole time with nearly blue skies. It rained last week, so maybe she still had her wipers on just to be safe. California drivers are complete fucktards.

Friday, October 16, 2009

attitude adjustment

Seems like everybody's freaking out these days. Besides hearing myself bitch and moan over the last few weeks, I have tons of friends who seem to be going through similar, random life crisises. Everything is going to shit out there, man. People don't have jobs, some have jobs that are retarded, some are questioning their sanity, some have relationship drama. It's a weird time we live in. The stock market is about to burst again. Coloradical kids are dropping out of the sky from homemade Hindenbergs. So to brighten everybody's day, I'm giving my buddy Tonto, and you, this link to the Nuts Magazine's 50 Big Boob Celebrity Countdown. It took my mind off The End of World for a while.

My method went like this:
-a real quick glance over all of them
-pick out some favs and study them
-then scour for any recognizable names
-look for an semi recognizable names
-dig deeper and concentrate on the real nice pairs
-then hunker down and slowly go through #1
-#3 etc
-regroup, get a drink of water, and start again at the top
-use shoulder to block so your stupid cubicle neighbor doesn't bother you

And here's that sneezing Panda shit. So funny.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Electromagnetic Pulse

Somebody must've sabotaged my current place of employment with an EMP. Servers exploded. UPS scale broken. Internets crapped out. Porn supply cut off. At one point this week we went a couple days with just Free Cell and Solitaire. We still didn't have to actually comunicate to each other. But the ying to this yang is that we've got poopy-brown head-high waves kickin ass right now. While this technological shitstorm was going off today, I took a much needed constitution down to El Rincon. I felt the need to paddle out and infect the lineup with The Staph. the mid-day shred fest was on my self-shaped 6'4" stumpy little diamond tail. Good times out there, mang. I got back to the orifice and switched from singlefin to a 2+1 setup for the after work decompression in the Montecito zip code. See you fags out there.

Monday, October 12, 2009

Black Market Monday

Check out this chick wearing some bootleg Sex Wax Gear on a At least somebody out there is coming up with new Sex Wax tees. I'm so proud, whoever you are...

Saturday, October 10, 2009

Mission Accomplished

Today in Hawaii, Craig Alexander conquered the Ironman World Championship. More importantly, today in Santa Barbara, a highly spandexed young man named The Brown Recluse conquered Gibralter Mother Fucking Road. It was now or never, I feared. So on tuesday, I decided to just do it. What's the worst that can happen? I had a major head adjustment going into it. Normally I would want to DESTROY the hill and ride with dignity. That basically means no stopping, ride at a good clip, hide your pain, and make other hurt worse. Fuck that. I'm old and broken and barely have the time to properly train. I figured that I would rob, cheat, and steal in order to get over this thing. And it was as grueling as I thought. My legs were flat and had no pop, but I just kept turning the pedals. I stopped about 6 or 7 times in order to get my heart rate down, other wise it was above 170 for about 2 hours. Oh and speaking of 2 hours, I had planned on a Worst Case Scenario of 2.5 hours for the whole thing. It took 4 fucking hours. I didn't bring any food and I didn't eat much beforehand. That was bad news. I also ran out of water, but I spotted a random drinking fountain in the middle of nowhere. If some guy hadn't been filling up a jug, I would've passed right by it. Somewhere near the top, I passed another biker guy and about 50 yards away, I found a pothole that gave me a flat. A quick tube change and I was back on my way. The worst thing about the ride is that there never seems to be a peak. It just keeps going up and up and into the wind. How can that be? Just when I thought there was no possible way it could keep climbing, I would go around a corner and see another fucking hidden peak. But when I was about to snap, I found the final downhill at Painted Cave Road. Not a moment too soon, my quads were cramping and was probably moments from bonking. It was about 20 minutes of high speed descent then a long, flat 10 miles to get home. I was spent. I swear, if it was 5 miles longer, I would not have made it on my shitty training. A couple hours of legs cramps and spaced out of my head, and I'm feeling a lot better now. Good times man.

So much hope

I shot anyway

Long and winding road

East Camino Cielo

Up above the clouds

Feeling like shit but almost home

Climbing Gibralter Road from Brown Recluse on Vimeo.

Friday, October 9, 2009

What's this all about?

At some point in every blog, we feel we need to explain why we do this. I'm at that point today.

My blog don't mean shit. It's just something to do. It's a way to kill a few minutes out of every day by commenting on random crap that's funny or pisses me off. That's all. Instead of taking another alleged "crap" and just sitting in the bathroom reading surf mags, I sit at my desk pooping out crap on a keyboard. I'm staring at a cuntputer a lot, so I can take 5 minutes out of my day and add something that's of some interest. Maybe it's interesting to you. I don't know. It brings some joy to my life so fuck it. It also helps me work through things. I'm emotional and passionate about everything I do. Why do something if you're gonna be half-assed? As Yoda said in The Empire Strikes back..."do or do not, there is no try". The mental clarity is amazing when I write shit down and actually think it out. If you don't do that, try it sometime. Other than those simple reasons, I don't know why. To have fun? To show things I've seen? To point out rad people? To call bullshit? To call myself on my own bullshit? Yep, all of it.

Thursday, October 8, 2009

Malibu/Santa Monica/Carp

A day in the life.

Started with an incredible deuce deuce along the PCH in Malibu. Must've gotten there right after it was scrubbed. There was fresh TP and no piss or shit smeared anywhere.

Bjork in Santa Monica.

Butt Pirate Ship.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Need more surf

After a year of epic fails, I've set a last minute goal to climb Gibralter Road this weekend even if it kills me. Fuck it. I feel like shit, my lungs hurt and my legs are weak. There doesn't appear to be any waves in the forecast, so what better time? I may have to stop many times and throw up, but at least I'll accomplish something in '09. Gonna make some change soon. This guy's job seems like pretty neat....

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Second mid life crisis coming soon

Who wants to start a business, any business? I don't really care what kind of biz. But...
Let's not WANT to sit at a desk to avoid going home.
Let's not take "NO" for an answer.
Let's never play golf....EVER.
Let's not do shit half assed.
Let's not be lazy pieces of shit.
Let's not rely on happy hour, drowning in shitty well vodkas.
Let's keep an open mind about everything except tite pants.
Let's do things cuz it's the best.
Let's always seek inspiration (kinda gay, I know, fuck off).
Let's create cool shit.
Let's take vacations to keep the stoke level max'd out.
Let's head to the mountains, drink crappy beer, and burn shit.
Let's get mid-day barrels and fresh pow.
Let's never stop learning.
Let's always be fresh.
Let's seamlessly blend work/play/life.
Let's make some dough and live an incredible life.
Let's always have fun.

Monday, October 5, 2009

Monday Bloody Monday

I give up. It's like talking to a Black Hole of new ideas and forward thinking. From now on I shut my piehole and get pitted, so pitted. Fuck it.

Saturday, October 3, 2009

Cans and shit

Been busy for a few days with some shit on my mind so I haven't had the energy post any useless crap that saps minutes from yous day. When I say I've been working on shit, I mean money. It doesn't look like I'm gonna get rich the old fashioned way...screwing my way into a life of leisure. So I'm gonna have to bust my ass. And as one of my rich friends told me..."Jeff, you work too hard. It's better to work smart, than work hard." I've been trying to build our biz in the hopes of breaking away from this wretched desk life at some point in the near future. So I feed the Head Cheese new ideas for products, new marketing strategies, new approaches to attract more biz, and all that jazz. Basically, everything a sales manager is supposed to do. But 0% gets put into action. Years of this shit, and I'm near over it. I've been talking with some bros at a shoe company with a names that rhymes with CANS about a fucking epic collab. It's an unbelievabley rad fit for both companies. The Head Cheese is initially against it, but there's a slight chance. His kid and I agree that this would be great, so it's 2 against 1. The battle comes monday when I give him the full court press. Pedal to the metal. We're either doing this or I'm getting fired. Punches might get thrown and dudes will weep. Let's hope it's me that's weeping in joy.

So here's what I've been up to in the meantime...

Said goodbye to one roommate.

Delivered wax to shops from Seal Beach to San Diego. Some have gone out of biz.

Visited CANS World Headquarters, got a visitor sticker, and visited some CANS by Dave Flores.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

The Fearless Tsunami Hunters

There was a tsunami alert in Santa Barbara last night due to that big ass Erffquake in the Souff Pacific that crushed Samoa. So I stuffed my face full of Super Cucas and cruised down to the harbor to witness the destruction. The only other clowns who had nothing better to do was Morgan, his family, their dog, some drunks, and a random-psycho-ward-excapee-guy walking backwards around the harbor talking to himself. We all survived.