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.
"I looooove big treeeees" is what some big, smelly hippy yelled behind me across 80,000 people between David Crosby's songs. It was 1992-ish and I was at some free concert along Portland's waterfront Park to save the Spotted Owl's habitat(big trees). I was amazed how quiet it was when Crosby sang Long Time Gone solo. I was there because there was lots of booze and some music by Crosby, Neil Young, and The Heart Sisters. And I was also there because I love big trees. I grew up playing sports and camping, hiking, biking, and skiing. My playground doesn't have a metal fence around it and organized white lines layed out. It doesn't have waxed floors, or nets, or any of that bullshit either. It's about being in the water and mountains. It's about being free to do whatever the fuck I want. There's an awesome Ken Burns show on PBS right now called National Parks, Something Something Something. It started yesterday, and I'm diggin it. Reviews haven't been the best, but what do they know. It's inspiring and reminding me that I've been a city-turd for a while. I need to go camping and burn some things real soon. Plus shred season isn't too far off.
Rincon Surf Report for September 26 & 27, 2009- FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESS! Small, but fun none the less. A few long peelers through the inside sandbar section at the cove. Good to be back in the water. Super fun to be out there and surfing with Albers, Gilda, and the Doucette Bros from Idaho. Next issue is my messed up toe. At the rate things on my body are breaking down, I'm sure that'll keep me out of the water at some point this winter.
It's friday and I wish there was some sort of protest going down this weekend. I found the godshatesprotesters blog and been laughin my ass off all morning. I've got plenty of rattle cans and cardboard, and I can be for/against anything. Call me if you hear of a good rally/protest around here. But Santa Barbara doesn't do that kind of thing. So I guess I'll go surfing instead. I finally get to shred some mini-waves and sloth on the beach.
At lunchtime I swung by Jeff Hull's place to get my new board all glassed up in under a week. Which gave me the opportunity to drop by Arby's Health Foods. I picked out a delicious Large Beef N' Cheddar combo pack. Looks like it's 660 calories made up of 36 grams of fat and 43 grams of protein. Not bad, pretty good. The curly fries didn't survive long enough to snap a pic. I was so excited and had so much cheese and beef on me that I could barely hold the camera AND the sando. Our team manager thought I was weird to take pics of my food. What the fuck does he know?
Just got back from the doc and it turns out I'm infected with The MRSA instead of The HIV. You can't get The HIV from The Hand. I'm nearly cured though. Just another 10 days of antibiotics. If we get some waves I'm very close to being able to surf again. Now that I'm able to be out in society again, hopefully this is my last post about staphylyccocis.
My 44 year old, Polish-American friend Johan is 225 lbs of chiseled butter. And one twisted motherfucker. We worked together a while back. I didn't get paid shit, but the comedy was worth every second(until I freaked out because I wasn't getting paid enough, quit, packed up everything, and moved to Costa Rica to drink and surf for a few months). I can truely say there was never a dull moment around Northwave North America. We could really use some comedy around this boring office I'm currently in. My office here sucks dong. If you shred the gnar you should buy more Coal for your cabeza, Capita for slashing, and Union for locking down your feets. I found this vid and it's classic. Yo goes through a box of crap that's apparently being given away. I love how shit that I gave him is being regifted.
Houston, we've got a scab! That's right, bitches. Look how healthy I am. I took a pic of it and used to my calf to make it look like a buttcrack. But it's actually my leg. All that sketchy looking shit around my gorgeous scab is dead and/or irritated skin. Not only are my germs a bunch of useless pussies, but now my skin is joining the mutiny. The changing of the bandages is fucking shit up. Hopefully I'm on the right path of curing my HIV status.
It's a little known fact that the original lyrics to Charlie Rich's classic was..."Hey, if you happen to see the most beautiful scab in the world, tell it I love it"
My new thing is sitting on the beach and not surfing. Just spacing out and watching awesome waves. it's just fucking great. Try it some time. Fuck you Rincon. Yesterday I stopped by Rincon after work and it was pumpin. Head high at least and the rivermouth was firing. Lots of good waves just beggin to get shredded. Not many quality surfers out there except for the barrel killer and future WCT'r Conner Coffin. He was out there destroying it.
So since I'm hating life and can't do shit, I decided to shape another board today. The Worlds Greatest Board #3 has been shaped and needs to get glassed. It's a 6'4" x 21.5 x probably 2.75. The diamond tail is wide as fuck...9.5. I tried to give it a single concave in the middle to a doubleish concave over the back feet. I picked up the blank from Fiberglass Hawaii last week. I'm finding that I really like making a mess of foam. The idea was a widowmaker. Where you have a bigger center fin with 2 small side bitter fins positioned along side it. Like a 2+1. I've been reading about these for a while now and never seen anybody riding one. Everything I've ready is that they haul ass like a thruster but carve like a single fin. I like carving. They say these things make incredible bottom turns. Especially when you really crank it on rail and would normally slide out. The side bitters give it that extra grip. I may try glassing this bitch. But I'll probably go the easy way and have that dude down in Ventura knock it out for me. It would be rad to get to surf this thing if my knee ever gets better.
Knee still fucked. Much puss and schmeg oozing out. No end in sight. No light at end of tunnel. Waves are coming in from 290 degrees. Lots of wave. Good waves. Barrels and shit. Sat on beach and watched other people surf again. I hate watching other people surf. Urge to kill rising. Rising. Rising.
If you haven't been there, Portland's filled with dirty, smelly hippies. Hippies and bikes. A shit-ton of bikes. Everybody rides a bike up there. Which is amazing considering it craps rain 3oo days a year. That miserable rain keeps it VERY GREEN...if you catch my drift. P-Town's the epicenter of progressive bike ideas and laws. Great bike lanes criss cross the city. Lots of hand-built shit by hispter guys rocking bigass sideburns and Euro caps. Alpenrose Velodrome is for the real fixed-gear junkies. So it comes as no surprise that they put together a non-sanction, hippy style bike race. It's called the Rapha Gentlemen's Race, and it sounds like a real good time. My buddy, John Howe of Team Beer rode this year. 140 miles with a start, a finish, and just a couple check points. Your integrity is the marshall. I've managed 140 mile rides a handful of times, and it was a long time ago. Pre-old man status. Anything over 100 miles starts becoming a long day in the saddle. It's just miserable sometimes. The mind starts tweaking and things start aching. It was my pencilneck that used to get to me. But it's such a great feeling once you're done. You feel alive. Like you've actually accomplished something. And the finish beers taste real good.
Check out my staph. Click on the pic and get in there real close. You can almost smell it. Apparently it's fine even though it looks like rotten eggplant. I nearly threw up when they were cleaning it out yesterday. It didn't hurt, it just felt wrong. Waves are coming from 290 degrees in a couple days. Fuck you, Mother Nature. Still can't surf for a while, so maybe this weekend I'll shape World's Greatest Board #3. I'm thinking something around a 6'4" x 21.5 x 2.75 widowmaker/2+1 diamond tail thing. I made the outline yesterday and I've been looking at it ever since. I'm liking it.
It just came to me...I'm predicting that Carrot Top will complete the next trifect of death. You know, when they say death comes in groups of three. 2 greats so far, Swayze and Kennedy, and the clock starts now. If I was in Vegas, I'd rush to the betting booth and put money it. Slow day in the office, so I did a little search and there are some seriously FUCKED UP pics of that dude. Jesus Christ almighty. It's only a matter of time before something in his pecs, heart, or face ruptures and explodes on some drunken sorority hotties. Does this dude get chicks naked with this shit.....
Back in June, I made the call that Ted Kennedy or Swayze would be leaving god's green earth soon to complete the trifecta of dieing. But I was wrong. It took an extra month or two. Swayze is gone. Too bad it wasn't Kanye.
My favorite Swayze movie was Red Dawn. The first PG-13 movie ever. I saw it in the theater cuz I was old enough. They had to create a whole new rating system for Patrick Swayze because he was so infuckingcredible. But for PG-13 you think they coulda at least given us a boob shot of Jennifer Grey. Sneak it in there somewhere. I mean, she was naughty librarian hot until she fixed up her beak. After the Russian/Cuban/Mexican invasion of Coloradical, didn't they need to repopulate at some point? That's the only thing that woulda made it better. Today, I spill a little deer blood for you, Swayze.
September 11th, 1970. That's the day the incredible Ford Pinto was introduced. I don't remember it because that's also the day I was born. I must've been a mess. All purple and slimey and shit. Yuck. That's a long ass time ago, man....14,238 days ago to be exact. I still have my hair, most of my real teeth, and only 1 of my joints is artificial. I'm 39 years old and I can honestly say, I'm immature as fuck. I have no idea what I want to be in life. No idea how I got where I am. No idea what my career will be. No idea what I'm going to next week, let alone have a 5-year plan. I just cruize along with a simple plan. I just want to be happy. Happy to me is surfing or shreddin once a day, every day. Each day I go without either, I get a little bit agro. I can add a little biking and gym work to get through the tough times. But when all sports are taken away I freak out. Like right now. I'm still gimpy with an open wound staph infection on top of a lingering sinus infection. 39 is starting off a little rough. But fall is here, so my mind will be in a better place soon. Leaves are changing. Storms are coming. Here's a vid to stoke the fire....
Staph kept me out of the water on saturday, so I decided to dust off the camera and shoot some shit. Rincon was working a little. There was plenty of good waves. Right as I whipped out my tripod, the Point Concept Hardcore showed up. Morgan, Lovelace, Trevor, Albers, Will, and Gilda gettin after it on mats, displacement hulls, longboards, big flat longerboards, and everything weird. Looked like a good time. Except for Morgan's last ride. His face got attacked by an 11 foot Death Machine. Second time I've been there when it's drawn blood. No stitches this time.
Think of my staph infection as a bike thief. Stupid, horse-faced, Jort wearing, bottom feeding bike thief from New York. The worst kind. Now think of my immune system as NY bike messengers with a little Muy Thai mixed in. We have a winner! The video below clearly shows what my body is doing to my current staphlyococcal infestation.
I recently found this little group of musicians and artists that perform regularly around Santa Barbara. My life is better when I'm surrounded by artistic, creative people. Hopefully some of it will brush off on me. Plus I have a dream where local movie makers (except for that douchbag Alexi) can get together on a regular basis and show whatever they're working on. Like a real world You Tube. Everybody has Final Cut Pro or at least iMovie these days. And everybody makes little flicks. I love watching them, especially surf travel ones. And I think it would be great to tap a bottle of wine, hang out with friends, and beam them onto a wall instead of a cuntputer screen. After I left the Emegrency Room last sunday, I went briefly Free Culture Art's music showcase at the Live Culture Lounge in De Le Guerra Plaza. Seemed like about a dozen local performers playing mellow tunes for the dinner crowd. Weird setup because the stage is up against the 20 foot ceiling looking down on winers and diners. But the tunes were solid with lots of good coffeehouse music that reminds me alot of Jeff Buckley's Live At Sin-e. Maybe only because it was in a similar setting with guitars. Anyway, it was fun, but my leg was killing me so I took off early. There's also an open mic might on thursdays at the SB Roasting Company. I'll be checking that out soon. Maybe I'll see you there.
This week is dedicated to germs and infections. I've always laughed and said "my germs can kill anybody else's germs". I'm not afraid of anything. Not anymore cuz my germs are big, fat, pussies now. They couldn't fight their way out of wet toilet paper. They're probably layin around indoors, playing fucking video games, wearin tight pants. Lazy bastards. Get up and fight for me, you rotten pricks. I'm hooking you up with a ton of Vitamin C, garlic, Immpower, and Sulfamethoxazol-TMP. The least you could do defend the fucking Temple. Fight!
This is going down as my Worst Labor Day Weekend ever. I've managed a couple painful bike rides. My legs felt great, but my lungs burned. Not the good kind of pain either. It was my body telling me I should be laying around ridding itself of germs and infection. I'm a petri dish. Besides the rides, I lay around in a bit of pain. I managed to drag myself off my death bed briefly last night, but had to cut the night short when the blood was oozing through the jeans. Kinda gross. Tomorrow I get to pull out the stopper in my knee so it can heal up. I guess this weekend's been payback for such and awesome last weekend. Rincon may have given me this, but I don't hate her. It won't be much longer till the winter swells start rolling in. Ying to the yang, sucka.
I'm hideous, look away. Staph infection set up shop in my inner thigh and it doesn't feel good. It's like a giant zit that won't pop. And it burns like Pop Rocks and battery acid are stuffed under the skin. The really neat thing is that I also have a sinus infection, too. Fucken rad. I went for a long slow bike ride today even though I feel like ass. Not sure how I got infected. Could've been from rolling on the mats at the gym. Or it could've been from surfing Rincon last weekend. Regardless, I'm on some heavy antibiotics now. This is starting off to be the Worst Labor Day weekend ever.
I'm in Costa Mesa. It's in California. I think I just happened upon a herd of honest to goodness, real life hipster mother fuckers milling around a pile of pizza, skating their balls off. They had all the tell-tale signs...shitty mustaches, fucked up knee-high tube socks, ratty Vans, dirty v-necks with Sharpie drawn logos, possible boy lovers, and all wearing JCTWP's (Jean Colored Tights With Pockets). Skinny malnourished fuckers, all of them. No working pieces of shit. A real bunch of scum. I wish I was their age again....I'd be just like em (except I'm certain I like girls). Fuck growing up and being responsible. These kids are living the REAL dream.
