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.