I can’t believe I am even about to entertain writing this week’ s UCB. Then again maybe it just reinforces just how little I give a fuck anymore about anything. John Mauriello takes the cake again with the topic “What if instead of having finger tips at the end of our fingers if we had ten tiny butts”. At first when I read this I just laughed and dismissed it as pure stupidity. Sometimes it is those instances that call for a worthy topic. I believe this not to be one of them.
What if I woke up tomorrow and had little asses on my fingers. I guess that would be kind of gnarly. Would each of these asses work on their own system of digestion. If that is the case I could conceptually be taking shits all day. I mean tiny little turds but turds none the less. My next thought would be how stinky it would be if all those little assholes were constantly farting all day long. Plus I work with my hands preparing food, how unsanitary would that be? Ass fingers would totally break a few health code regulations.
On the other hand if I had butt fingers I could walk around giving people dirty Sanchez’s all day. I could maybe even get the little guys to shoot diarrhea at my enemies. Would I still have an ass for my ass or would that then become a giant finger tip. So many questions, so few answers. No thank you I think I will just keep my hands asshole free. As far as my personality is concerned that is a different story all together. Thanks for allowing me to waist your time and help to reinforce what an idiot I am.
Well this is not exactly butt fingers, but its still rather gnarly.
When I was a kid Halloween was all about candy and costumes. Then I became a teenager and it was all about mindless vandalism (for whatever reason it seems to be the one night a year where its ok to break shit). Then I became an adult…well I use that term in the looses sense of the word. More in terms as I am physically a full grown human. Mentally I am anywhere between that of a bratty ten year old and a 15 year old. I guess most males fit into that category.
Being older Halloween takes on its scariest of entities: Grown people in costumes getting completely shit faced. Women put on the skimpiest little outfits or a tiny cocktail dress and some type of animal ears. I am not complaining its all in good fun. I have spent plenty of Halloweens in my adulthood being that sloppy guy in a cheap ass $15 plastic Kmart costume. As a matter of fact I was that guy last night.
This year Halloween falls on a mother fucking Monday which means its a five night party and five different costumes. Over the next five days I will chronicle exactly what takes place on this lurk, well what I can remember from it of course. Lets start with last night shall we?
Night One, College Costume Night at the Wild Cat
Kooky and I rolled out, him dressed as a red crayon and myself as Casanova, which was interpreted as either a vampire or a pirate. I did not give a fuck. I just wanted to an excuse to wear a cape. I liked it and it may become a regular thing for me. Everyone thought Kooky was an orange crayon even though it clearly said the word “red” on the front of his costume. On the way down some chicks yelled out the window “Dude your a fucking Cone, Whoooo, go cone!”. That in itself set the tone for the evening.
Down town was packed as usual. Halloween is sort of a big deal in this town. Shit what excuse to get drunk and make a fool of yourself is not in Santa Barbara? We had to wait on line for about thirty minutes, not bad considering. There were these two basics in front of us who in my opinion looked no older then 16, but then again I am a bit older now and young looking twenty one year olds do look very callow to me at times. Lucky for us they bailed to go back to IV (no surprise there) allowing us to make the next twenty people in cut off.
Inside the usual Wild Cat insanity ensued. I got piss drunk thanks to my bar hook up, did a bit of dancing and a bit of socializing. We were hanging outside on the patio when this very attractive women came up to us. I figured she was selling something. There is no way a smoking hot chick is going to walk up to a guy dressed like a crayon and a pirate/Dracula looking guy other wise. She asked me what I was drinking and I replied “Bacardi, what else”. Turns out she was a promo Bacardi girl and impressed by the fact I was drinking a tall (little did she know it was more like half a bottle poured into a glass with a little coke for color) and hooked Kooky and I up with free Bacardi T-shirts. Its about time those guys give me something back for all those handles I have consumed over the years.
It was a good evening but by one we found ourselves over it and decided to do the drunken stumble home. about at the half way point we ran into this guy dressed as a Rastafarian across the street from us. He looked at us and yelled “hey I’m not a Rasta, but a Mexican. You guys want a bowl hit”. Thinking I was going to get a smoke we walked over. The dude pulls out a handful of weed and puts it in Kooky’s hand. Then cruises on. We got easily two eighths worth. Then we ran into a Kiwi working the night clean up shift on SBCC’s campus and hooked him up with a fatty nug as well. Got to share the wealth after all. Upon getting home we packed it into an apple and smoked that shit. All and all I would say it was a rather fun first night.
In 2006 I was living in a beat up run down beach bungalow in Manasquan, NJ with my now ex-wife working a dead end job managing an unsuccessful surf shop that the owner would later screw me royally at for making it successful. I was going through the blog archives and came across this little gem about a trip to the DMV and a glimpse into just how much yet how little I have changed as an individual. The last sentence is the real kicker to this Blast From the Past cause it proved I actually did accomplish something for a change. “Yippie Kiy yay Mother Fucker”!!!!! This blog was originally posted on March 8 2006. Enjoy…
I woke up as usual on my day off eager (Note how my sarcasm is timeless) and ready to sand and glass battered old surfboards for people who are not worthy of my skill. As I went to get my sander out I realized that my respirator was shot, clogged with epoxy dust from this M10 I had to do last week (by the way I would rather get hit by a big stick swung by a Ningitsu master then fix epoxy surfboards. Its just so un holy. They are like the Rose Mary Baby of the surfboard industry…but that is a whole other topic all together.). I still hate to fix epoxy surf boards.
Anyhow so I jump in my car and head over to A’s Home Center on HWY 35 in Wall(not getting paid for this plug either) cause they seem to have the best supplies at a quality price. On my way back a very diligent officer of the law (oink oink) pulls me over to remind me in the form of a citation that my license had expired like 7 days ago. Thank God for PBA Cards or I would have been hit with a 140 buck fine. You know Squan cops hate me..but that too is for another topic.
So I decided to make the trek out to the DMV, which is not unlike one of the great crusades to the holy land back in the middle ages. Its a battle you dont want to fight, but the state makes it your duty to go there. Now for those of you who have not been to the DMV cause your too young to drive let me give you a play by play on how this Hell on earth works. The first topic and the most frustrating is somthing we thank our good friend Osma for. Its called the 6 points of ID you need to bring with you in order to obtain any kind of official document. In California you need like two. God bless the soon to rise again and secede from the union, The Bear Republic. That is a blog for another day as well.
You need your old license, a Passport, a Marriage license, a Credit Card, School ID and a recent government Statement of Proof of address. If you don’t have atleast 3 of these documents they are sending you on your way. I once got shut down at Eaton Town because I was short 1 point of ID and that was on my 3rd check point. Thats right you have to go through 3 different people to check your shit before you can even get in line. Each one of these “Document Officials” is about as well trained to spot a forgery as my cat is to use the litter box with out making a mess. After 8-10years (not sure how old he is) Alfie still shits on the floor about 25% of the time.
So I got rejected cause my proof address was 31 days ago, one day past the 30 day cut off point. Meanwhile Mohammad abdul wearing his turban and consealing his Israeli built hand held Usi had his 9 points of fraudulent ID cliaming he was Joe Smith got his license no problem. I think they handed him a pilots license too. I on the other hand was escorted out by security for as they put it “causing a scene”. Can you believe I did not drink back then???
This time however I was crazy prepared. I went to the one in Freehold to beat the crowds, plus was hoping to catch an afternoon session at Jackson. They had this really fun six foot half pipe at the skate park there I used to rock the shit out of. I brought 12 points of ID and I had ID to back up that ID. Those bitches did not even know what was coming their way. When I got through to the last check point the lady looked at me with eyes of contempt saying “the war is not over just because one battle was won”. I snatched my license out of her hand grabed my balls Bruce Irons at Teau’poo style and laughed my way out the door all the while hearing complaints from others getting turned away for not being as prepared as me. “See you in 6 years bitches” I muttered undermy breath. If in 6 years Im still living in this wretched place please come over my house and hit me across the face with the flat end of a 2×4′ cause I deserve a beating. See I told you the last sentence was a kicker. Out of one shit hole and into another. Lucky me, but at least I get to surf everyday.
Well as usual we don’t ever keep to a schedule here at surfingruinedmylife.net. Not that it matters much since our reader base is a whopping five people. Kooky actual did write this to be posted on Friday, but I was angry that night after work and drank half a bottle of port thus passing out before getting a chance to post it. Since his topic was all about procrastination I think my not posting it here till over four days later is rather fitting. Its not that thrilling of a segment this week. I read it, but for lack of any better content from me, minus the usual psychotic rants I have been posting I figured why not throw it up there. Plus no one is master of not finishing things more then I. Enjoy.
Koooooooooky KYLE……
I am great at starting things but I suck at finishing them. The most famous instance of this is a bird feeder I made in 6th or 7th grade. I was building a lot of bird houses at the time and figured it would be cool to make a bird feeder. The one I made looked like a little house with two big picture windows so one would know when it was time to refill it. Anyways, I sped through the whole process of making the bird feeder, the lid was hinged, and had a lock to keep out raccoons and squirrels, it was painted and sealed the only thing that was left to do was to put a piece of plexiglass on the inside and glue it in place. And to this day eleven years later, it still needs to be put in. I actually think the bird feeder has been thrown out.
Other similar projects I have done have been two surfboards I shaped and never glassed. These took 6 years to complete as I hated glassing, eventually I had a friend who was competent enough at glassing so he did them for me. One of the boards was actually super fun. It was a 5’7”x18 ¾”x 1 7/8” concave decked parabolic stringered epoxy which I gave to him for glassing. It was fun as hell in tiny waves, I never got to surf it in anything over thigh high The second board still needs to have the second set of fin plugs put in.
I did this painting of Padang Padang, and I started it and then left it for a while and then forgot about it. Eventually I finished it but I let too much time pass and I forgot how I mixed the color for the ocean. If you see it in person the two waves don’t really match perfectly.
There you have it, a little bit about me. Never leave things open ended with me because I will probably never put it off until it has to be done.
I don't know what this has to do with a bird feeder or Kooky, but it came up while I was searching for bird feeders. This blog sucked, just like this picture.
I’m angry, well saddened mostly, borderline depressed? I guess that is how it has always been for me, for as long as I can remember. I don’t think I am a monster, yet I find myself constantly in the midst of being despicable. Can one be predestined for unhappiness? For a long time I thought I was evil. I know now that it is not the case. I am just pissed off at the world, a world I was never meant to be a part of.
I am a part of this terrene and there for make the best of it most of the time. I have yet to find anything better. Most days I find the motivation to get out of bed seriously lacking. Still I trudge on. I tell myself “keep on, things are going to get better”. I mean I have to cause it is what I tell everyone else in my life. I hate lying to my parents that everything is fine, so instead I stopped calling them altogether. No one likes a pity party and it does them no good to worry.
My dad called me today to find out if I was still alive. This happens about once ever two weeks or so when I break contact. He gave me a pep talk that at least got me to go to class where I bombed the written part of my midterm. I think I got a C and that is all I am shooting for this semester cause I don’t give a fuck. So much for the 4.0 I swung last semester. I think most of my class mates take me for arrogant cause I keep to myself and take in as much as I possibly can.
Most people take me for that come to think of it. Its not that I am arrogant, but more that I have confidence in myself and my own ability. I am not a bullshitter and I know what I am capable of and not. I can be honest with myself. I find that the majority of the population is asleep, just going through the motions of life not really understanding why they do the things they do, almost machine like. I analyze every thing I do and everything that happens around me probably to my detriment.
With all this thought I still have absolutely no answers. Then again “a wise man knows that he knows nothing at all”. When we stop asking questions then are we really living? I think I am at a serious cross road in my life, a what is next for Chris Lisanti. For the moment I do not have any answers. No questions, no answers, that is a verity I must accept. The mere idea of the assertion of this has been constantly plaguing me. I know that if I can consent to such a mantra I may be able to get over this hump I find myself stuck in front of. Or am I destined to be Sisyphus? Maybe I have finally reaped what I sowed?
…A brief look into the insanity that is the mind of Chris Lisanti…
Kooky Kyle showed up at my apartment last Tuesday (my very attentive ass thought he was suppose arrive on Monday and was like WTF) despite warnings from multiple people including my own parents to rethink his decision. Lisanti Land is ok for a week but four months is tough. That amount of time is enough to drive anyone to insanity. Look what happen to poor Adrienne. She stuck it out for almost two years. Im sure her life is never going to be the same. Since I am lazy and barely post ten blogs a week I thought it might be fun to give Kooky a chance to give his perspective on things out here and life in general. Also he is embarking on some crazy travel after his tenure in Lisanti Land so he can keep us posted on his where abouts.
Kooky’s Korner will run every Friday. This is his introduction to it and you can expect the first edition this Friday. Enjoy. – Lisanti
Here I find myself sitting on the loveseat I slept on last night, staring at a cat that is either losing its mind or dying, and perhaps both. What a way to spend your twenty third birthday. Just kidding. I surfed this morning and will be going out tonight. For my birthday my roommate Nick gave me a free pass to Whiskey a Gogo in LA and a porn dvd he found behind the TV; don’t ask me what he was doing back there. You can check the surf logs for what the waves have been like. I did score one good Pitas session which is not featured in the log: a lot of pgcb and a few good barrels. I also coached my first practice test for the UCSB crew team.
Depending on what work looks like that may be a regular thing for me. Right now I am on the hunt for a job and would like to start restocking the bank account and saving up for New Zealand. I plan on filling everyone in from time to time with what is happening with my travels and any funny stories, rants, or ideas I have. Basically this will be a mix between me keeping people up to date with what is happening with me and a supplement to Chris’s writings, which may be slow due to winter swells and his overall busy schedule. Feel free to submit topics for me to write and if I deem your blog worthy of writing, your prize might be me sleeping on your coach.
Use your imagination even thought it has nothing to do with Kooky…or does it?
Opening day or blog might I add of the winter and final quarter of the 2011 UCB series. As of press time it is a three way tie for the year end championship between Nick the Kook, Kooky Kyle and John Mauriello. Now all three of these guys are seasoned pros at this UCB thing. That does not mean you can’t swoop in there and steal the quarter. If that was to happen then we will have a blog off the first week of January to crown a champion. Remember first prize is a self expense paid trip to Lisanti Land.
Also I am writing this months Power of Ten list in the coming week so if you have yet to submit a list do it asap. Enough business. Lets get down to the first installment of the quarter. Mauriello came out of the gates swinging and it paid off with the first win garnishing him with 1.5 points. He asked I describe just exactly what a “Fifi” in Lisanti-isms or Lisanti Speak as I like to call it. I sort of have my own little dialog of sayings and vocabulary strange to the world outside of the small sphere of influence that is Lisanti Land. I am not going to tackle all of my strange speak but I will address what a “Fifi” is considering I have mentioned the term several times over the last few weeks.
A few years ago I found myself at a loss to define a relationship that was more then a friend with benefits but not quite a girlfriend/boyfriend/significant other. Significant other, what is that term exactly. I believe everyone I hold dear to me in my life is significant and other just sounds so cold. I was sitting in a dinner at 3am in New Jersey after a late night at work with a very good friend of mine who went by the name Troll, a nick name bestowed upon him by yours truly. He was seeing this chick for over two months. They were sleeping together but were not girlfriend and boyfriend.
They were not quite fuck buddies cause both felt for one another, yet they were not exclusive as well. I have been in said situation a few times and it is in my opinion one of the most frustrating ambiguous positions there is in life. I think it puts a strain on both parties of the relationship (I mean relationship in the most simple way of the definition). At that point the alliance between the two can and will go one of two ways. It will either end in utter ruin or an actual loving affinity for one another. In my case it has always been the former to hold true.
At this late night meal where I happily enjoyed an over sized piece of Boston Cream Pie, my diner standard, I came up with the term Fifi for his situation. Unfortunately for him his contact with his Fifi went just like my own experiences with such by way of the Indian. Where did I get this term from you ask.
Well it all goes back to the film That Thing You Do staring Tom Hanks. It is a in my opinion a rather enjoyable movie and totally worth a watch if you have never seen it before. There is this scene towards the end of the flick where one of the characters is checking out of the hotel they were staying at and was looking for his friends. The bell hop said all of them had split, but “Their little Fifi was still around”. In the film “Fifi” was this chick that was seeing this character’s friend, but they had broken up. Through out the entire film one could see there was something between the two of them. That is how I came up with the term.
I think it describes the connection rather well. “Fifi” is like this fun non-committal sounding name. It was also the name of Pluto’s girlfriend in the old Walt Disney cartoons. For me the term works well and has become accepted by my friends for this meaning. Its better then Urban Dictionary meaning in which a “Fifi” is a masturbation device created by prison inmates by taking a sock and filling it with Vaseline or toothpaste. If you like my little term, more proof of my personal detachment from the world and further proof of my own insanity feel free to use it. I do. Mauriello, the man who is the benefactor of this post now happily calls his former “Fifi” girlfriend. See folks not everything ends up in flames or maybe it is too early to tell with them. All I have to say is that I hope only the best for the pair. So now you know what I am talking about when I use the term “Fifi”. If some guy fresh out of prison uses it I would be a little more skeptical of what definition he is referring to.
Here is that scene I from That Thing You Do that I was talking about:
I don’t know why I keep coming back to Ashanti. Maybe that is my plight in life. I cant move on? I don’t really know. Its fucking 3:o7am. I have had a bit too much to drink yet not enough as always. That is what alcoholism is all about after all. I’m fresh off a good night at the Wild Cat. These days I find myself taking a spot on the wall with all the other barnacles. I guess I am just a next generation? So be it.
Not much was popping off and I was about to leave when I heard a good song and decided to hit the dance floor and bust a move. I was enjoying myself till my old fifi showed up with some other dude. This guy was not even close to me. I was looking like class and he was looking like trash. I just do not get it? Maybe I am not suppose to. I mean she made a fool of me the last few times we got together. Yet there she was looking fabulous as always and I just thought man why aren’t we together right now? But alas it was not in the cards for us. I cordially said hi, gave her a hug, met the guy she was with, then went about my business. What more could I do? Nothing. That is how life shapes up. I would like to think she had some remorse even if it momentarily.
I know she felt nothing of the sort cause she never felt anything for me ever. In my odd misfortune or good fortune I have no recourse on how I should feel or what I should think. So I tell myself I wont think about it yet I still do. Constantly plagued by my own insanity. I am proud of myself for standing my ground and not giving her the satisfaction to how pained I was to see her with some other idiot. Fuck it, whatever.
Now about this song. I want to dedicate it to all the happy couples that are out there. I watch my couch mate Ryan and his girl friend Addy every day and see how happy and satisfied they are with their love for each other. Sometimes it sickens me and causes me to drink a little more then I already do. Then I reevaluate the situation and am very happy for their happiness together. I had that kind of merriment once, well twice actually. I mainly blame myself for both failing, but then again it takes two to tango. How could I have expected to have anything worthwhile when I am broken?
This song is for all the lovers out there who have that rare connection that only two people can share between one another. Love is not easy and most times it doesn’t make sense. I have never understood it. I am always pained by it, but constantly baffled by it. Maybe I had my shot and I am now destined to be perpetually alone. If that is my lot in life, so be it. I fucked over two decent human beings because of who I am and perchance that is my fate then. That was my chance. Fine I will face my sad lot in life to wander the earth alone for eternity with my head up then.
For those of you who have love. All I can say is cherish it cause there are a great number of us who go with out. I will root for you. Sure it wont be all sunshine and roses, but if it was then would it be worth it? Nothing worth doing in this life is. I think that is how it should be. It was not easy for Romeo and Juliet or Rick in Casablanca or Elizabeth and Darcy in Pride and Prejudice. That is what true love is all about, struggle. Whenever I hear this song it brings a smile to my face even in my darkest hour. So here I am sharing it with all of you. Plus Ashanti is the shit. Enjoy, sorry for rambling about bullshit.
Wow! What a bull shit stupid blog I posted last night. I hope no one thinks any less of me. All I have to say for myself is that I drank an entire bottle of Chianti from 8pm-11pm last night thanks to the goading of my roommates whom were many beers deep. Surprisingly I think I could have put down another bottle cause after finishing that one I think I could have operated heavy machinery if I needed to. I could have definitely drove if not for those pesky police and their DUI bullshit. .8? What the fuck is that. I could blow a .8 the next morning.
The legal alcohol limit should be a kind a suggestion. Whatever, I don’t make the laws…yet. Lisanti for President 2014. And this is not a blog about my alcohol problem or drunk driving. This is more of a proclamation of sorts. Now this is for me not you, so please no more hate mail. Yes I know I suck at life. I do not need any reinforcements in negative comments. If you want to call me a jack ass that is ok.
I decided when I woke up Sunday morning that I was going to take back my life. I know we have these type of blogs every few months and then I just end up going down the drain all over again. Such is life. I was watching Rocky Balboa last night, you know the very last one in the series, and he got on this tangent of Rocky wisdom, which by the way is uncanny how profound it is in a very imbecilic way. He said something about how “In life its not how hard you can hit, but how hard you can take it, every time life keeps beating you down, you have to get back up and keep on fighting. No matter how hard you get hit you just have to keep on moving on”.
That got me to thinking about my own life. I have been being beaten on for thirty years and have still remained strong through out. Some see it as arrogance, but I have always seen it as perseverance. Sure I come off negative most of the time, but that is because I am real. I don’t sit around and bullshit myself. I set a goal and I go for it. I do not just say oh “good things are going to happen for me”. I go out and take it. No one is handing out free rides in life. You have to go out and get it.
With that in mind I need to fill you in on my week last week. I had to see Adrienne unfortunately. She wanted to get off the lease of my apartment. It sounds like something that should not be a big deal, yet with my rental company taking people off the lease always turns out to be a horror story. I guess it serves me right for ever believing her worthwhile enough to trust to be on my lease. See what happens when you trust someone fully. She had been hitting me up through email, the most chicken shit way to do anything. It is not like I don’t work right across the campus from her or anything?
I made the move. I took the five hundred yard walk over to the bookstore to talk to her about the situation and come up with some type of reconciliation on the issue. Believe me it was one of the hardest five hundred yards I ever had to walk. I was filled with mixed emotions of anger, sadness and anxiety. I did not have any clue how I would react to seeing her.
Anyhow upon our discussion I realized that I am still not over her and immediately after went into a serious five day bout of depression involving tons of drinking by myself. I did not even go out to the Kitty. Worst thing was I think if she had apologized and asked if wanted to come back I probably would have. Fucking pathetic right. She had these stupid boots on she wore to Ireland that completely clashed with the tired black skirt and bluish floral camo top she wore at least once a week. I am not saying she did not look nice, Imean she still captivated me, but if I did not have to wear a uniform to work I would completely flash the wardrobe. Those boots though just don’t ever make sense outside of a hurricane. I know she has some nice shoes.
Enough about her outfit. All that brief interview led me to understand is that I am still broken inside and have been trying to fill that hole with other women who were horribly fit for me. Then I decided that I need a break from women in general for a while. My life is a fucking mess and I need to clean it up myself for a change. I always look for a female counter part and use her good sense and stability to influence me to clean my act up. So far the effects of that method have been nothing but adverse.
I need to pull my head out of my ass and take control of MY LIFE. If I get my shit together maybe I will find happiness and stability. At that point then and only then can I truly have something to offer another person when I ask her to share my life with me. Cause I actually will have a life instead of this sub normal fantasy land I live in. Till then it is going to be all about frivolous good times with my female companions and nothing more. For the moment I may not look so good on paper, but its only a matter of time before I do.
In the mean time I am going to follow this guys advice:
Surfing Ruined My Life 