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Its been quite some time since we have heard from our friend on the dark continent.  Truth be told I had thought he died from Ebola.  Holding true to his ridiculous ability to survive insane situations the kid is hanging in there and at this point I would say safe money is that he will come out of this whole Tanzania folly unscathed and better enriched from the experience.  He finally decided to share with us a little tale of a small adventure that was bestowed upon him during some of his down time.  Enjoy.  Oh and since we have no pictures to go along with the blog I thought I would throw in the occasional cat photo instead.  As per usual anything in the color red are my own personal dick head sarcastic comments…Lisanti

Kooky Kyle writes:

You never know when that sage bit of wisdom you have been given will pay off, or when your ignoring of that advice will bite you in the ass. This is a story of the later. Growing up as groms under the tutelage of Lisanti, we were privy to plenty of advice.  Some of it was questionable, but some pieces (still questionable) have stood the test of time. One of those is “always carry $40.00 in cash and a condom”.  After I blew my knee out I had this bullshit job managing this bullshit hole in the wall surf shop.  Kooky, Mauriello, Nick the Kook and a host f other kids would come in and just hang out all fucking day.  One time I was late to open the shop cause I drank to much the night before and I got a phone call from one of them wondering where I was.  If they were going to hang out all day then I was going to subject them to all of my words of wisdom, psychotics and delusions.  In a lot of ways one could say it may have been the live version of SurfingRuinedMyLife.net. 

CondomCat

Kooky got that piece of advice wrong. You should always carry at least two condoms…

A few weeks back I went into town to run my usual errands for the morning. When I got to my mini bus (Kooky has had lots of practice riding the short bus) to return to my village it was packed. As it turned out the all girls boarding school 7 km up the road from me was resuming session and all the students were returning. By the time I was on the bus there were 40 people on it. It only has seats for 26.  The bus was so packed that the driver had hired two taxi’s to take some of the girls and their luggage. After we got moving and were about a mile past the police check point I realized why they had hired the taxis. The cabs got the luggage and excess passengers past the police check point to avoid paying a hefty “fine”.

By this point I had girls sitting on my shoulders and was squeezed so tight I could barely breath. I had enough and asked the driver if I could ride on top. “Sorry no roof rack today” was his reply.  Over it I told him I would come back tomorrow. He said that was fine and even got me on his friends bus going back to town for free.

Once in town I checked into my usual hotel and went off to the internet cafe to take care of more paper work ( and caught up on pornography). When I returned to the hotel, I sat down with a nice elderly lady and had a wonderful conversation with her in Swahili as she ate her dinner. She like many Africans are amazed that I live by myself and can cook. As she finished her meal I excused myself and went to the bar to order a beer. When I came back there was a group of white people sitting down with the local Lutheran Bishop. Figuring they were missionaries and that they could be of use to me in my current line of work, I greeted the bishop in the tribal language and had a conversation with him entirely in Swahili. This greatly impressed the missionaries and they insisted on making my introduction. After a few pleasantries I pardoned myself and went back to the lounge. There I began talking with a new group of Africans.
ProperCatOne was quite pretty and she began heavily flirting with me. This isn’t unusual. I’m exotic here, (Fuck, Kooky is exotic everywhere. when we used to chill at the Wild Cat he would attract chicks to him just by making crazy faces at them) also white people have this rumor about us that we are all rich and smart. She was trying to use her feminine wiles to get her green card.  That bitch was deluded, the HIV rate in my region is about 25% for women in the age group of 18-30. I played along though, it would at least be entertaining.  Shit it’s not like he was going to get HIV from her sucking his dick a little. 

That is when she walked in. Out of all the nice but affordable hotels in this country, she walked into mine. She was checking in with her friend and I could see them from where I was sitting. Like a mirage she vanished. I knew I could bide my time and they would come to me I mean where else were they going to go?  When you are this far off the beaten track, the only thing impressive to other white people is nonchalance.   I kicked it while listening to this African man telling me his tales of being in the merchant marine and sailing to Asia and Europe.

finally the girls reappeared. She was a lithe, blonde.  Her English accent stuck out strongly against the voices of the American missionaries she was conversing with in the dinning room. This lit a fire under the African lady whom was by now sitting on the arm of my chair playing with my hair. She knew she couldn’t deal with the competition, thus made sure I had her 3 phone numbers, Skype and email. Soon the British girls came into the lounge. The friend was a gregarious homely girl. Both had clearly been on the road for days and my conversation with them soon confirmed this.
catpic
My food came out shortly after their arrival the departure of the Africans. I ordered grilled cheese. I know, I hate Americans who go abroad and eat something they could get back home. I live in a small local village and have been eating local food almost exclusively, so the rare treat of something from back home is a thing I relish (check out my Kooky’s Korner entry “Grubbing Down in Tanzania” to understand what the local cuisine here is all about) . The girls were captivated.   “What is that? We should have checked the menu before ordering”.  Their plates of chicken and rice came out and we talked over dinner.

The friend, Elise,had backpacked through Africa last year and this year she was returning to visit the friends she had made here. On this trip her friend, Hannah (the hot one) decided to join her. As soon as their plates were cleared the homely friend pardoned herself saying she was exhausted and needed to retire for the evening. Hannah on the other hand was still full of energy, one of the perks of being able to fall asleep on African buses.

Hannah and I chilled and we clicked. Both of us are young and adventurous, neither of us were materialistic, anit-pop culture and not to mention we are both beautiful examples of the human body (sounds like a fucking match made in heaven, and then she died of an extreme case of instant EBOLA!). Everything was in my favor, a empty hotel room yards away, no friend cock blocking, a young beautiful lady  who was as interested in me as I was her. One thing led to another, and to make a long story short, always carry a condom. So kids the moral of the story is when travelling, cash, passport, condom because  blue balls suck.  Shit Kooky she was white and probably didn’t have AIDS .  Next time be a man, suck it up and raw dog her.  Oh wait, maybe that is more of questionable advice from the wrong side of the tracks courtesy of Chris Lisanti!
PizzaCatGoat

 

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Optimistic-Chris

Getting excited for the Swell of the Century!!!!!

Well that’s what everyone is calling it.  Most likely unless the Earth as we know it is completely fucked and global warning has finally taken its toll I suppose none of us will ever see waves like what graced the coast of California on Wednesday August 27 2014 for at least another 30 years.  As for myself I know I for one will never see a south east tropical swell like such while still in my prime.  I would love to say that I scored like the mother fucker in the above video at Sand Spit, literally a quarter of a mile from my apartment.  My friends I did not!

Nope, no sir.  I FUCKEN BLEW IT!!!!! Have I surfed good Sand Bar in my tenure here in Santa Barbara?  I certainly have.  I have gotten some of the best rides of my life out there.  Wednesday was not to be for me.  I was caught in what was once foretold to me as “adult” responsibility.  Up until Wednesday I had no idea exactly what that phrase meant or why it could cause anyone so much pain.  We all knew Marie was coming and that it was predicted to be BIG.  Of course whenever a tropical swell is in question here on the west coast one always cannot be sure how good it will really be.  No doubt the trump card spots like Trestles, The Wedge and New Port will be solid, but the rest of the coast is usually a crap shoot.

Up here in the 805, well its more like a sadistic game of pin the tail on the donkey.  I have literally spent an entire day driving over 100 miles from Jalama to Ventura to Malibu only to surf absolute crap cause I missed what never really was anywhere.  When I first saw all the models I was a bit of a skeptic (what me? NEVER! Call me captain optimistic).  Although I must say it has been one of the better tropical seasons up in these parts that I have seen in about five years.  Monday night I went up to Jalama with Mike after I got off from work and was figuring it would be fun background swell from the south at best.

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Jalama feeling the preamble to the big south with nice long period lines.

Sure enough the “J” was solid (you can read the August 14 Surf Log for the details) at which point I began to get excited for the new swell.  From the lines I witnessed I for sure thought Tuesday morning (8/26) was going to be on.  Pumped I went to bed early in anticipation.  I knew it wasn’t going to be the best of things early, but figured I would at least get decent enough Santa Clara River Mouth.  My buddy Adam from back in NJ was around and met me up early.  When we began the trek south to Ventura everything was small, barely chest high and poor quality.  We ended up surfing Solimar which was super tiny when we first paddled.  By the end of an hour session already there were new long period lines similar to what I had witnessed at Jalama the previous night coming in.

Solimar, the calm before the storm.

Solimar, the calm before the storm.

I went to work and through out the day I was constantly getting texts from friends letting me know how the swell was filling in.  I guess right at dark most spots began to turn on pretty solid.  I got home around nine and I could hear surf in front of my apartment.  I only live up the cliff from Lead Better beach so this is a common occurrence, especially in the winter.   This was more like fire works going off and the roaring of a great lion then the usual mellow relaxing white noise of tiny wind swell rolling up the beach.  I began to get excited so much so that sleeping became nearly impossible.  I woke up every hour, as most of us do when a special swell event is running, hoping it was light.

Awake at 6 am I found myself pacing around my apartment waiting for my boy Adam to show up.  It was his last day in town and what a last day to have.  He is actually the second person from New Jersey to show up to SB for a rarity of a swell.  The last time it was friends of Cory and I, Alex and Carleigh back in 2007.  That was a macker of a WNW swell, the biggest Santa Barbara I have ever seen or surfed.  It was also on a Wednesday.  Maybe I will write a throw back blog about that swell at some point.

This swell was way more rare then that one.  Santa Barbara gets WNW swells in the winter.  We don’t get south swells in the summer and we especially don’t get ESE swells basically ever.  On top of that most spots saw at least head high waves and then some.  My boy should have bought a lottery ticket cause his lucky stars were counted and lined up.  We had a look directly in front of my place at Lead Better and it was solid 8-10 ft, though rather crowded and average shape at best, classic Lead Better.  I thought about having a look at Sand Spit, but decided the swell was most likely too east for it and the summer sand would be no good.  Instead I went for Sharks Cove, which is always my go to spot for when town has waves.

Leo Carillo at first light, gigantic. Photo: Mike Astede

Leo Carillo at first light, gigantic. Photo: Mike Astede

I did the drive by from the 101 twice to get a handle on the place.  From what I could see there were only about five guys on it and was at least head high.  Hammonds looked huge.  We parked and made the run to the point.  To our surprise and utter dismay about twenty more guys had already beat us there and another ten were behind us effectively clogging the point.  On top of that it was not coming in very good at all.  If only five guys were out I would have paddled anyway, but I was not about to fight a crowd. We looked west toward Hammonds and Mira Mar and it looked nuts.

Hammonds looked like some crazy tropical reef pass and from our vantage,  just way over head freight training rights.  At Mira Mar we saw some guy drop into a wave that was at least three feet over head and it looked like he was skirting the barrel.  Out of time that was the call and up to Hammonds we ran.  As luck would have it when we got in front of spot and the right was way too fast and walled.  The left looked good, though some what crowded.  The wave also ended on complete dry reef.  I have broke two boards and lost countless fins/plugs to that left on average days.  I could not imagine what would have happened if I paddled it.  Most people out there were just getting destroyed on the left any how.

The drift was heading east to Mira Mar anyway so Adam and I jumped in at Hammonds and drifted our way down.  Pretty much all the way through Mira Mar it was still very very fast.  I was pumping with all my might and speed to get two or three fast turns in.  What we thought were guys getting tubed from a far were just people being forced to straighten off.  Then Adam managed to luck into an overhead peeler that he ripped the fuck out of all the way to the bottom of the point.  Right behind him I snagged the next one and got four solid back side hits on it.  From that point we had it wired till the end of our session when it go clogged with a bunch of kook ass long boarders and old guys, who’s modus operandi was to burn us on everything despite the fact we were making all of our waves.  Whatever we got a few and were stoked.

Santa Clara River Mouth, Ventura off the chain Wednesday morning.  Photo: Mike Astede

Santa Clara River Mouth, Ventura off the chain Wednesday morning. Photo: Mike Astede

Deep down inside I knew I had blown it and was blowing it by going into work.  What was I going to do?  My hands were tied.  It was the first legit day of the Westmont student meal plans.  I am the sous chef.  It would have set a terrible example if I called out.  The fucking swell was all over the news for days.  My bosses and everyone I work with would have put the facts together and knew I was not sick.  With my luck I would have gotten a clip on the news or in the paper.  My boss would see it while watching t.v. that night and I would be busted.

On a side note back in 2003 I was attending Monmouth University in New Jersey.  A sick hurricane swell was coming up the coast.  I called my professor and told him I was having a stomach bug and would not be able to attend class.  Meanwhile I was getting some amazing waves at my home break.  There were a bunch of photographers shooting.  Most were the usual surf paparazzi and I thought nothing of it hoping to get a shot so I would get paid.  One of the guys shooting I had never seen before and he came up to me and said he got some good ones and wanted my info, which I gave.  Next time I went to that class I bailed on the professor said that he hoped that I was feeling better then through a copy of the previous day’s newspaper on my desk.  I was on the cover six feet in the air on a sickie.  BUSTED!!!!

I did the responsible thing this time around and went into work where I slaved like a dog for nine hours.  Ryan scored Hobsons, one of my go to over flow spots when the points get to crowded and said it was like an Indo left.  I heard Father Johns went off as well.  Pat said Mondos looked over head and kill-able.  That wave is the biggest kook loving mush burger 365 days a year.  As we all know from the opening video to this piece Sand Spit was epic.  Trevor got some bombs at Rincon up at Indicator, which I heard was intense from a lot of people.  I also heard that Devereux had a left breaking to sands that was crazy.  My friend Trey went to El Cap at first light and said the point was about chest to head and fun. Basically it was a magically swell that made all sorts of epic little nooks and crannies go off.

 

GoldCoast82814

Gold Coast the day after the swell.

Thursday (8/28) there was still plenty of swell lingering.  I got up good and early to have a look around.  Unfortunately new wind swell had filled in over night and tore up the channel turning the groomed hurricane lines into absolute mess.  I drove around for over an hour before desperation paddling the Gold Coast near the entrance to Emma Wood.  For whatever reason Jordy Smith had decided to paddle and was absolutely destroying the choppy crossed up offerings.  I had a barrel or two,  but it was stoked to surf with him.  I guess it was a minor redemption to a major insult of blowing the  swell of the century.  If I were a Japanese samurai I think I would have had to commit seppuku.  As a surfing guru I almost felt inclined to anyway.  On further analysis though I realized that I have scored epic waves all over the globe and have many good years of surfing ahead of me.  Sure it will suck to talk about how I blew it every time the big south of August 2014 comes up, which it will for the next thirty years.  I did get to surf and that always beats not surfing and winter is coming….RINCON.

Another look at Santa Clara River Mouth on Wednesday morning going absolutely ham.

Another look at Santa Clara River Mouth on Wednesday morning going absolutely ham.

 

 

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No blogs, just surf

No blogs, just surf

June came and went with not a piece of writing here on SurfingRuinedMyLife.net.  For that I must say I am sorry.  I thought I would take a moment to explain myself a little bit.  First off things have been a bit on the crazy side.  Alright, when isn’t my life on the crazy or hectic side?  Normally by July I have hit my stride of chilling on Uncle Sam’s nickel.  That was exactly where I saw myself by now.  Unfortunately my superiors at Westmont had other plans for my summer.  While I would usually find myself living on the dole of unemployment with a little hustle and flow on the side I found myself stuck in the kitchen four days a week.

The Westmont Grind

Back in April I had been asked if I wanted to work May term hours.  May term is a one month micro semester Westmont runs for it’s students.  Like any institution of higher learning this means they compress classes into a short time period but still charge students the same amount of money per credit for the normal semester.  The motherfucking business of education.  “Hey come spend all your money and go into debt, then graduate with a useless degree and have to go work for minimum wage for some idiot like me”.  The only difference is I too am a well educated idiot working way outside of my degree or education for way less money then I should.  I think I just summed up every American from 22-35 at the moment.  Ain’t this country grand.  America land of the free only if your rich while the rest of us have become the in debt slave laborer. Sorry for the rant but it has been a while.

I did the math and realized if I worked all of May and saved the bulk of that money I could kick it on unemployment for the remainder of the summer and still have my “extravagant” or lack there of life style with out any change, unlike my usual summers where by August I am eating out of the trash and basically sucking dick for crack.  Well maybe not that last part, but you get what I am saying.   The fuckers stuck me on the morning shift meaning I had to get up at pretty much 5:30 every morning and leaving me forced to surf windy blown out shit in the afternoons.  It was only temporary…or at least that is what I thought.

May term came and went and I began getting even more hours as an influx of camp and convention groups came in.  Apparently Westmont whores out its campus to anyone willing to pay for it all summer long.  This sort of makes me a prostitute for the institute I suppose.  Whatever, dollar bills!   I have been working about 25-40 hours a week, work depending since May.   My schedule changes week to week which is certainly a pain in the ass.  I still manage a surf everyday and am stacking some mean paper while flipping burgers.

Reaping the fruits of my labor.  Your looking at a bacon double cheese burger for yours truly.  You think I would feed the customer this well, as if.  Yes that is a plastic plate on top a 350 degree F flat top grill.  Safety as always is my number one concern.

Reaping the fruits of my labor. Your looking at a bacon double cheese burger for yours truly. You think I would feed the customer this well, as if. Yes that is a plastic plate on top of a 350 degree F flat top grill. Safety as always is my number one concern.

Also it looks like I may actually become the full blown sous chef this fall considering that our old sous chef and my fellow friend in suffering Geoffrey is taking off a few months for hand surgery due to old age.  The guy is like 62 and been a war horse in the kitchen for over 40 years.  I am bummed to see him go as I have been able to learn so much from him and he over the past  six months has become sort of a mentor to me not to mention a great friend.  Honestly I don’t really want his job.  If I get impressed into it I am looking at twice the head ache, three times the responsibility, 100% more bull shit for if I am lucky $2 more an hour.  Whooooooooooooooot!!!!!!!!!  I am actually going to have a sit down with my general manager this week to see what is going on with the fall semester.

Catering

This was close to 150 salads for a wedding at some Hollywood directors 30 million dollar estate in Montecito.

This was close to 150 salads for a wedding at some Hollywood directors 30 million dollar estate in Montecito.

Those of you who frequently read the surflog know all about most of everything I have written and will write in this blog.  Basically I may not write blogs everyday or even monthly these days, but I do however write in my surflog, my online journal, daily.  So if you have not discovered it yet give it a peruse every now and again.  My boy Trevor recently became Executive Chef for a local catering company here in Santa Barbara.   I will not disclose the company so as to not cause any problems that this blog so often does in my life when I name, names.

He asked me if I would help a brother out for a bit while he got on his feet there.  At the moment I am currently his sous chef.  I am a double sous.  Always a fucking a bridesmaid and never a bride!  On my days off I am stuck either at an event busting my ass or in his kitchen prepping for an event.  Its a good learning experience and even more paper to stack.  At this point I am doing the best I have monetarily in about eight years or so.  Last night I took Heather out to dinner, where I proceeded to get sloshed and told her “MONEY IS NO OBJECT”.  And you know what?  It wasn’t…

Here we are at the Palace toasting to Trevor's new found success

Here we are at the Palace toasting to Trevor’s new found success

And we cooked up a surf and turf feast for the occasion.  That is grilled tri tip, Grilled fresh local prawns, orzo and roasted vegetables, and goat cheese horse radish bruschetta

And we cooked up a surf and turf feast for the occasion. That is grilled tri tip, Grilled fresh local prawns, orzo and roasted vegetables, and goat cheese horse radish bruschetta

DING REPAIR

Look at the ghetto set up I have going here.  My board is propped up by a cooler in the ally way on the side of my building.  I like to call what I do no guerrilla surf board repair.

Look at the ghetto set up I have going here. My board is propped up by a cooler in the ally on the side of my building. I like to call what I do now guerrilla surf board repair.

It never fucking ends. Just when I think I am out I am always sucked back in.  I don’t even have a space to repair boards.  I literally glass boards in my bathroom and then sand them in the ally next to my building.  Its a fucking pain in the ass and I hate it.  Yet for some reason surf boards keep showing up at my house to be repaired.  It’s true that  I am always breaking my own boards and needing to fix those.  I have four spares meaning I only really need to fix boards a few times a year when I have destroyed all four.  Usually in that time period I end up getting a new one anyhow.  My quiver is in reality a bunch of destroyed boards with one or two good ones.

People still show up at my house with dings.  They hit me up on Facebook.  “Hey so my boy said you fix dings…ummm can you help me out bro?”  My own friends are constantly hitting me up to repair their boards.  “Please Chris, don’t make me go to a surf shop, your the man”.  I am the man who hates fixing surf boards.  I even get phone calls on occasion from people in New Jersey who need a board fixed.  WTF.  It will never end will it?

Just in case you thought I was exaggerating.  That is a surfboard about to be glassed IN MY MOTHER FUCKING BATHROOM!!!!!!

Just in case you thought I was exaggerating. That is a surfboard about to be glassed IN MY MOTHER FUCKING BATHROOM!!!!!!

Surfing

I have actually been surfing up a storm.  Jalama has been the best it has been in ten years.  The kelp is good, the sand is decent and there have been waves thus I have been staying wet.  A normal day for me goes like this.  I wake up a 5:30am, go to work and make food for about eight hours.  Then I get off at around 3 pm, meet whomever hit me up first at my apartment to go up north with me.  I only take one person and its first come first serve, no nepotism.  Read The Rule of Two blog for more on my philosophy on that.
Jalama7314-173

I change out of my work clothes, load up the car and shove off on the hour or so drive to Jalama.  When we get there its not over, oh no.  There is about another 25 minutes of walking on the beach to get to the spot, maybe further, swell and crowd depending.  Then we surf for two hours, make the walk back, followed by the drive.  If I am with Trevor we always stop at Denny’s in Goleta for a post surf dinner.  If it is a party night then my day is not over.  I come home, take shower, suit up and cruise to the Wild Cat.  As you can see by this account of my day to day there is not very much time for blogging.
SpringSurf14-524I managed a perfect month back in May surfing every single day of the month 31 sessions in 31 days and a few doubles as well.  I don’t think I have accomplished such a feat since I lived in New Zealand.  It was fucking exhausting and I surfed all sorts of garbage in all sorts of dumb crowds.  You can read the May surflog to find out all about that one.  Basically I have found a renewed love for surfing and my performance is off the charts. I may be surfing better right now then I have ever surfed in my life.  Maybe I will write something about the perfect month here if I ever find some time.
Jalama61214
I guess that pretty much should bring everyone up to speed on what has been happening in Lisanti Land.  Heather and I are still together.  Even I don’t understand how or why that is.  At the moment it is actually going along at steady calm.  Whether or not I am doing the right thing for me or her is yet to be seen.  Just as I felt at the beginning I still feel now completely uncertain and confused.  Then again who really gives a fuck anyway cause at least I am surfing every day.

My cooking partner in crime Calvin finally moved back out to Santa Barbara and is currently living on the couch here at the Palace.  Where would I be with out a guy on the couch?  Him and I are in the process of the early stages of planning that Italian restaurant I always talk about opening.  He moved here with the intention of getting this place off the ground with me.   With any luck our goal is the try and open it by July of next year.  Lets keep our fingers crossed.  Expect to hear more on this from time to time as it begins to consume my life.

Here is some homemade potato gnocchi in a meat sauce to get your mouth watering.  This is just a taste of what I will be serving up at my restaurant.

Here is some homemade potato gnocchi in a meat sauce to get your mouth watering. This is just a taste of what I will be serving up at my restaurant.

What can you look forward to here on SurfingRuinedMyLife.net?  Kooky actually wrote a Kooky’s Korner for me to publish.  Of course this happened about a month ago or so, but my lazy ass never got around to publish it.  Since I have not heard from him since he may be dead in Tanzania right now, though he will live on here on the blog.  Nick the Kook was nice enough to write some of his recent adventures in Chile.  He wrote these like two months ago and I never posted it.  I am sure at some point I will rant about some bull shit like how I got a pimple on my right ass cheek and now it hurts every time I sit down to take a shit (that has not happened).  There you have it,  the last 45 days or so in my life.  Glad you still decide to read the trash I put out here.  Bye bye for now…

Calvin, Mark and I doing some R & D for the restaurant at the Wild Cat.

Calvin, Mark and I doing some R & D for the restaurant at the Wild Cat.

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Surffight

I find myself once again at a loss to completely grasp what happen at Indicator Left at Rincon this morning.  Lately when such occurrences go down I just feel so let down by my fellow man and then maybe a little bit by myself for feeding into it.  This morning being that I was off and there was a severe lack of surf according to the buoys I decided to sleep in a little bit.  Fuck I have been having to get up at 5:45 most days to go to work.  Working back on mornings is a real bitch, although I have found it actually may allow me to get a bit more water time then working the dinner shift.  On the down side I am fucking tired all of the time.

I got up around 9am and was about to figure out some breaky when I got a text from my boy Trevor that he was going to paddle Indy Left and that it looked better then the grovel we had there last night (you can visit the surflog for more about that session, the 5/13/14 pm session entry).  Whatever, my plan was to go have a look around Ventura Harbor in the distant hope of scoring small, fun off shore Santa Clara.  I wanted to go to Jalama, but I lost my debit card in the atm machine last week and still have not gotten my replacement.  With no more then $23 to my name I didn’t want to burn up all my gas, especially at an average of $4.15 a gallon.  WHY?!? When I look out my window all I see in the channel is a line of oil rigs and I am constantly picking tar out of everything I own and off my body.  Citizens of the 805 should get some kind of gas discount for the inconvenience.

I decided to cruise to Rincon to have a grovel with Trevor.  I really didn’t have anything to do and it was already hot as fuck out, over eighty, might as well go cool off in the ocean.  I needed to kill about two hours to get on the other side of the high tide.  Sure enough Indy looked fun and Trevor was out there all by himself.  I paddled.  While I was stretching this other guy came down with his dog and decided to bare back it.   I know the air may have been warm, but the ocean up here is still just pushing the high fifties and that is being generous on most mornings.

Trevor enjoying the short lived solace of his solo session.

Trevor enjoying the short lived solace of his solo session.

He paddled right to the peak and started hassling and even burning Trevor.  I was doing a slightly extended stretch feeling a bit more stiff then usual from helping my buddy Anton move the previous evening.  I jumped in and since there was three of us and not a ton of set waves coming through wanting to warm up I proceeded to scrap the insiders.  They were fun and punchy reminding me of the tiny surfs I used have in the summer time back in New Jersey.  About thirty minutes into the surf or less this set wave comes right to me and I am in the perfect position for it.

The left at backside Rincon is tricky to line up as it shifts all over the reef with little notice.  I found that my current position had me a little deeper then I wanted to be for the size of the wave thus I paddled a little for the shoulder.  While I was doing this the other dude out there  decided to use my current situation as leverage to paddle around me from the outside.  I was deeper first and he just had three set waves in a row.  Technically it was my turn.  Being that there were just three of us out we were following or at least I thought we were, the principles of low crowd surfing etiquette.  It was after all the “gentleman’s shift” in which most of the participants follow good surfing conduct.
If you are able to surf between 9am to noon then odds are you have  custom tailored your schedule for a surfing life style as Trevor and I and most of the people I surf with. Most of the time we are pretty mellow dudes out in the water stoked to be enjoying a surf with like minded surfing enthusiasts.  This guy was on a whole different program giving us attitude out there from the get go.  Not looking back I committed to the wave and I guess “Mr. Angry” (as I will refer to him for the rest of this peice) did too.

Rincon514

Rincon Left is the only real easy access wave in close proximity of Santa Barbara that breaks in the summer. With that in mind it gets crowded fast and only offers a few peaks and a tight take off zone.

I felt him on my heels, but since paddling around is a dick move any time unless the spot is packed beyond maximum capacity (at which time I will bail or not even paddle out) or your in a contest where it is still a questionable action.  I have been in many of altercations when younger for paddling around. I did not pull out.  Indy Left is a short wave, three turns at the most and if someone drops in then you might as well just pull out the back cause even if they kick out the wave is pretty much over for you anyway.  With that in mind I up pumped and hit the lip.  Mr. Angry decided to kick his board out at me.  It hit me in my back leg though I was moving rather fast and it was not a hindrance to my riding the rest of the wave.

When I kicked out the back dude was paddling straight for me with an angry face.  I figured it was going to be the usual stare down, yelling and splashing match that can frequently happen in those situations.  More times then not the two guys involved have it out.  Paddle back out all mad at each other and two or three waves later realize how stupid the whole thing was and become friends or at the very least surf the session civilly.   As soon as he came paddling over to me he slapped me in the face and spit at me.  Immediately things took off to a very bad foot.  It appeared I was going to have to defend myself.

Keep in mind this guy may have been a tad taller then me and a solid 200 lbs and well built.  I was most likely going to get my ass kicked here.  He screamed something at me about how he was “born here in 1972 and that he remembers when I first moved out here and was a little Globe bitch and how I burned him at Rincon back then”.  Now what he is referring to with the “Globe bitch” thing is that when I started spending a ton of time out in SB around ’07 my main sponsor was Globe shoes and apparel.  By 2008 when I relocated out here full time Globe was attempting to take the surf industry by storm and had built a very solid team.

Here in Santa Barbara they picked up like six of us and we surfed together as group to make filming easier a good deal of the time.  It was not uncommon that if one of us paddled out we would be followed by at least two others if not the entire six and a camera.  Yes, that can get annoying to the regular surfing public.  At that time the surf biz was booming and half the guys in the line ups of California up and down the coast were sponsored so it was not like it was all that uncommon for a team to mob a break.  Ultimately the bottom fell out on the surf Industry by the summer of 2010 leaving 90% of us in the cold.

There is nothing like really good Rincon.

Me back in my Globe days at Rincon

Since I was not from Santa Barbara and always wore stupidly colored wet suits I seem to take the brunt of the negativity for the era of guys sponsored by Globe.  Whether I burned this guy at Rincon or not it was like 7 fucking years ago.  I have no recollection of the incident at all nor did recognize this neanderthal that was now attacking me in the water over a  shitty wave on a two foot day with three guys out at Indicator.   This is not the first time I was in such a circumstance.  I had a similar altercation with some crack head at Hollywood Beach back in October of 2010, which steadily got out of hand.  You can read about that one in the blog entry “Another Altercation in the Line Up“.

I blocked the next slap that came to my face and this time was knocked off my board.  Before I could come up Mr Angry was holding me under water in a futile attempt to drown me.  I bit his finger while he was in the process and broke free from the hold.  Gasping for air I surfaced a little disoriented in time to see Trevor paddling to my defense.  At the moment Trevor not being a small guy himself and currently rocking a scary beard got right in this dudes face.  I guess from what I was told he took a swing at Trevor.  The two of them started fighting and splashing water.  With the same “Your not from here”,  claimed Mr Angry; “I was born in Carp”, said Trevor.  This went on for bit till I tried to intervene with “lets just shut up and surf guys”.

There were some fun set waves coming in and we were missing them as a result of our tomfoolery.  This of course brought the wrath back to me where I was being berated with “where are your from”, over and over again.  Oh and I got slapped again.   At this point I was over it and called the dude out to the beach.  At that he splashed us, spitted at us and paddled  away.  Trevor and I paddled back to the peak and the whole thing started all over again.  Mr. Angry kept provoking Trevor calling him my lap dog and me his bitch.  Then he attacked Trevor again and at that point Trevor I called the guy out and we went into the beach to wait for him.  I picked up a solid rock that fit and was easily concealed by the palm of my hand.  This guy was obviously crazy and I was not about to take any chances.

We stood there at attention, arms folded across our chests waiting for Mr. Angry to come throw down with us.  A few sets went by and he didn’t.  I was temped to throw his stuff on the beach in the ocean in retaliation.  Trevor calmed me down.  After about 5 minutes I began yelling out to him to come in and fight.  There were a handful of Rincon regulars on the beach, whom I am in pretty well with.  They had seen the whole thing and asked what happened.  None of them really knew this supposed born and raised Rincon local.

He never came in and with added support from others we paddled back out.  It didn’t take long for it to heat up again.  He kept calling me a bitch.  I said “your the bitch, too afraid to come to the beach and fight two guys smaller then you and picking on a dude half your size over an incident that happened 7 years ago”.  He then told Trevor something incoherent on how “he was backing up his boy from New York on the slopes of Colorado” (Trevor lived in Colorado for a few years).  Finally an older guy I surf rather frequently with all over the area paddled and immediately got our backs helping refute the idiocy of Mr. Angry.  He started with the “1972 local since” crap again.  This older guy said to him “1968 bud, been surfing since you were in diapers”.

Then a handful other guys I also know who are also Rincon Regulars paddled out.  With no leg to stand on Mr. Angry bailed forewarning me that he was going to make a point to get me when I least expect it with out my friends to help me out.  Considering I have never seen the dude before in my life I am not too worried about it, though I am going to surf Indy for the rest of the summer armed and will cut this mother fucker if he tries anything on me again.  Quote of the session was “Maybe my dog should have fought his dog” from the older guy who paddled out pertaining to the whole incident.  The rest of the session I was a little worried the idiot was going to smash up my car in the lot or be waiting for us with reinforcements or god knows what.   The last thing I wanted was to have my car destroyed or be killed over knee to waist high Rincon Left.

Trevor and I made sure we left together back to the lot and were ready for anything.  Luckily Mr. Angry was gone and our cars were unscathed.  Unfortunately I am sure this is not the last I will have to deal with him.  What a bunch of bull shit.  All I wanted to do was grovel a few fun ones then go get some at Santa Clara River Mouth.  After he left I got a pretty cool little tube that I came out of.  Fuck negative people.  I feel sorry for their sad plight in life.

Was this really worth fighting about when it could have just as easily been shared?

Was this really worth fighting about when it could have just as easily been shared?

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AussieSheepRoot

The above photo was pretty much more exciting then all three of the Australian ASP WCT Contests.  Each year professional competition surf fans’ attention is drawn to Australia for the start of the new season of the Association of Surfing Professions World Championship Tour.  In previous years the Aussie leg included two comps, The Quicksilver Pro at Snapper Rocks on the Gold Coast and The Rip Curl Pro at Bells Beach, Victoria, Australia.  The latter one of the longest running events in the history of the sport.  This year The Drug Aware Margret River Pro in Western Australia was added into the mix.

I was rather excited going into this leg.  I love Oz, its one of my favorite places to surf and visit in the world.  Having spent plenty of time on both the Gold Coast and Torquay I always welcome the chance to watch the top surfers in the world go head to head at these locations.  Adding a West Oz event only sweetened the deal for me.  The best thing about Australia contests for the American viewer is that the time difference puts the live stream in the evening/night so one does not have to give up surf time or sneak a watch at work to enjoy it.  Then there was all the new hype about the redesigned tour courtesy of Zosea media and their plans to re-invent the pro surfing wheel.

Let me say I was highly disappointed all around this year.  Most of the time watching the webcast was like watching paint dry and on the occasional good heat it was like watching glue dry.  The difference being at least when glue drys one can get high off the fumes.  Instead it was more of my favorite surfers riding some of the best wave venues at it’s most average, surfing conservative as fuck the better part of the time.  All I keep hearing is this constant talk of “progression”.   Yet the majority of the scores came from “safety surfing”.   Just when you thought the webcasts couldn’t get any more cheesy and lame Zosea made it looked like some ESPN knock off broadcast.  You just can’t take surfing and package it like any other sport cause it is not like any other sport.  I will commend the addition back of the women to the circuit.  I am not really a big fan of female professional surfing.  Sorry girls but when the average WQS men’s competitor could beat your best if he had a sex  change and donned a bikini I can’t give you any more seriousness then a side show to the men.  That being said I missed the side show the last few years with the women stand alone tour.

Snapper Rocks
SnapperComp
Snapper is one of my favorite events on tour.  Here you have one of the worlds best high performance waves in one of the most surf crazed areas.  The energy around the contest is nuts.  Last year the final day was held a near epic Kirra where all the last few heats were stand on your feet nail biters to the final where Slater came out on top.  A few years back we saw a very inform Dan Reynolds go nuts against Parko completely redefining the performance level in a heat.  This year however we saw average conditions at best for the majority of the event along with relatively boring surfing.

All these guys fucking rip and have video segments that make the everyday surfer wet his bed.  Yet, when they throw on a jersey its safety turn central.  The only time the bar is raised is when they are backed into a corner.  There are exceptions to the rule of course.  Brazilian Gabriel Medina took the win, who with out a doubt was one of the most inform guys of the event.  He may just be the best surfer to ever come out of Brazil.   I think everyone would have liked to see Dane flair up, but that never really happened.
gabriel-medinaThe Drug Aware Margret River Pro
yadin

There are some really crazy waves in West Oz, is Margret River really one of them?  In the case of the this event not at all.  With the exception of Yadin Nicol’s huge air reverse in the earlier rounds there was little for me to get excited about.  It was mostly an event composed of watching great surfers do their best to make the most out of head to overhead mushy surf.  Yes there were a few heats ran at the Box.  I hate to say it, but as sick at that wave is to watch in a surf video, in a contest it gets really boring really fast.  I love a good slab as much as the next, but unless the competitors lives’ are in jeopardy watching the same barrel ride over and over again becomes very tiresome.  Ultimately Michel Bourez took the win doing the same old fashioned rail to rail surfing that has been winning heats since the 80’s sans progression.  Whoooot!  Glad I had to work late and missed the actual live stream of the final day opting for the highlight real instead, which still bored the hell out of.  It was like masturbating to a Sears bra ad.

Bells
Bells
I find it Ironic that at a venue known best for power surfing Bells was the spot where some of the more innovative surfing was found.  Up until the end rounds there were a few guys who were going for broke.  John John’s 10 in Round 5 against Medina and Slater was fucking insane.  That heat in general was nuts.   In the end it was “White Lightning” and defending world champion Mick Fanning who rung the bell with nothing but power carves and floaters all event long.  Its a good thing my boys and I didn’t play one of those surf commentator drinkings games every time the phrase “fastest surfer in the world” pertaining to Fanning was thrown out or I might have died of alcohol poisoning.   Mick did surf incredible in the event, but minus solid surfing he did nothing innovative the entire event.  He threw up safety move after safety move and was awarded 9’s for it.  I am sorry but four big hits and floater in a WCT final should never garnish a high 9.

Should Jordy have got a ten

This was the big debate at bells and I am at a loss to understand why.  It was a great wave and ride, but far from ten worthy.  Its true he rode the wave well, but the low nine he was rewarded for it seemed fair to me.  If you compare it to John John’s Ten in round five its not even close or Slater’s one move ten from 2012.  Its a bummer the guy didn’t get the score to move on and I am stoked that Jordy is one of the few guys on tour who pushes the envelope performance wise, but it was not a ten.  Compare the following videos and then really consider if he should have got the ten.  I think you will agree.
Jordy’s Wave in Question


He has some big turns out the back, then milks it to the reform before landing a very average front side air reverse.

John John’s 10

Meanwhile John John throws up a huge full rotation 360 air, sticks it, comes around a difficult white water section, finishing up with a giant lay back that most thought he fell on till he finally stood back up.

Slater’s 10 from 2012

Slater got a ten off of one huge maneuver, a no grab big full rotation 360 air, landed in the flats with hard offshore winds in his face.  The odds of anyone pulling that off in a free surf in such conditions let alone a contest is slim.  That is what a ten should reflect, a feat so uncommon it would be hard to repeat, the impossible made possible.

What happened to Kelly Slater?

Slater

I know Slater is getting old and all but his combined performances at all the past three events have been a disappointment.   He looks awkward and miss timed on everything.  I think it might be all of the experimental equipment he has been messing around with.  Maybe its its time to go back to more traditional equipment especially in harder heats.  He is got twenty years on a good portion of the guys on tour.  He needs to regroup and get back into that competitive animal of years past.  Of course a two quarter finals and one semi final finish is nothing to shake a stick at.  Going into Brazil, a place Slater seems to constantly find a lack of motivation for, one begins to wonder what result may take shape for the 11 time world champ.

Brazil

Next stop the tour heads to Rio Brazil for the Billabong Pro where we are sure to see more average waves and heavy frustration as the world’s best slog it out for points and dollars.  We get to watch more paint dry.  I guess we need to keep our fingers crossed for Fiji, J-bay and Tahiti.  I for one am not going to be holding my breath for another amazing to go down in shitty Rio beach break.

Sorry, but this is about the only thing worth getting excited about Brazil...

Sorry, but this is about the only thing worth getting excited about Brazil…

 

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BatteredFingerSmI woke up this morning with a penis on my finger and a throbbing sensation.  No my finger was not getting a hard on.  In fact it was just all swollen and pissed off after the trauma it had been through in the course of the last twenty four hours.  If you read the Surflog then you know I was off the past week for spring break and that up until today I was on a pretty decent surf streak this month.  I guess that streak has come to an annoying halt.

Friday (3-14) was my first day back at work in about a week.  In theory it should have been an “easy money” day as we like to call them at the kitchen.  My projected number of diners was around 50 to 100 at best and I had another cook at my disposal for the shift.  Like I said “easy money”.  The menu was decent enough, white vegetable lasagna, BBQ chicken, turkey pot pie along with the usual sides.  I took the slower day as an excuse to make the best damn lasagnas I possibly could. I love the less intense days so I can go that extra mile, which can be near to impossible on the days when your feeding 1,200, keeping tabs on six stations and eight cooks. None the less I always try to obtain the highest level quality possible.

By 3:30 we were pretty much solid on all the preparations and had nothing really to accomplish till four.  I noticed the dishwasher had failed to put away a number of pots, pans, cutting boards and other kitchen related items. Being the nice helpful guy I am I decided to go into the dish pit and finish the job thus avoiding aggravation to my night dish washers who always have shit dumped on them.  As I was stacking a group of 10 gallon pots above my head (a weight of over 30 lbs) I some how managed to get my finger caught between the bottom pot an the other three.  A finger guillotine was instantly created and carried out.
Finger guillotineYou know when you know you just do something really fucked up to yourself, but at that moment while in denial you look at it and think “fuck, that ain’t so bad”.  While intently looking at my finger, or what bludgeoned mess now resembled it I though maybe I could put it back together with a little crazy glue and a band aid.  As I watched the tip of my finger flap in and out of position and saw that the nail was cut clean through I came to the realization that professional medical care was in need.  Fuck it, it happened on the job thus I didn’t have to pay for it anyway.

I walked up to my boss, let him behold the bloody mess that was a finger and nonchalantly stated “I think I need to fill out an incident report”.  He got rather pale in the face, handed me a towel and took me to the local urgent care.  My own personal assessment of the injury and previous dealings with such had me almost certain the ER was not a necessity.  Yes I do tend to find myself in these situations quite regularly.  Its always amusing to me when I walk into a waiting room with a bloody towel wrapped around me and the horrified looks on all the other patients.  All of a sudden their minor complaints of back pain and a sore throat seem rather minuscule as they think “shit, at least I’m not that guy”.  Its ok cause I am always that guy.

Whenever I approach the check in counter the nurses are always thinking “Fuck, I don’t want to deal with this shit, especially at 4:30 on a Friday”.  Meanwhile I always just try and laugh it off as I do with most problems that are thrown at me.  Situations always are more fun when everyone is laughing even in an emergency.  Not wanting to deal with my mess I was sent across town to an occupational health center set up by the town to deal with worker compensation related issues.  Fucked up hand withstanding I was handed a clip board full of questions to answer.

The first few were apropos medical questions.  When I got to the third page, yes THE THIRD MOTHER FUCKING PAGE!!! Mind you I am bleeding all over the place, the form, the chair, my clothes.  I started reading questions like “What hobbies do you enjoy”, “what sports do you participate in”, “what music do you like”.  I said to the nurse behind the desk “what are you writing a book? or am I filling out a dating profile?,  or maybe your looking to sell my information to a mass marketing company, I don’t care which but I AM FUCKING BLEEDING ALL OVER MYSELF HERE!!!!!”  Another funny thing about when you are bleeding all over the waiting room is how all the other patients immediately get up and move to as far away to the other side  of the room as they can.  As if the aids I am not carrying is going to jump into them.

I finally get in to see the doctor, who also consequently wants to go home cause its now 4:50pm on a Friday and his office closes at 5pm.  All his nurses went home already leaving me with him, the x-ray technician and one of the receptionists, none of whom had ever assisted in such a procedure.  Everyone was rather eager to learn and I figured what the hell, why not be a guinea pig.  The operation got under way and I am not going to lie it was a pretty messy ass wound, all jagged and on a weird ass angle.  The doctor decided to go right through the nail with the stitches, a technique I had never really seen used before.  When he was all done he called the entire office in to see his handy work.  I don’t know if he was really proud of the job or he just wanted to show  how fucked up it was.  Either way it was most amusing.  When all was said and done I was left with a penis finger.
Four fingers and a Penis, lucky me. I guess it is better then the four fingers and bloody vagina I had prior to this photo.

Four fingers and a Penis, lucky me. I guess it is better then the four fingers and bloody vagina I had prior to this photo.

That leaves us at this present moment as I finish painstakingly typing this blog for your enjoyment with a hand and a half.  Looks like I am going to be side lined for a few days, maybe a week.  I am not really looking to get in the water until the stitches come out next Tuesday 3/25.  I asked the doc when he thought I could surf again and he said a few days if I duct tape it and keep it dry.  With a solid looking WNW coming in for early this week I may have to take such drastic matters.  Then again is it worth risking an infection and the possibility of losing the finger altogether?  Time will tell my friends.

Flawless Rincon Cove, enough to make the reward out weigh the risk?

Flawless Rincon Cove, enough to make the reward out weigh the risk?

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LisantiIntrospecWell my friends it has certainly been some time since I have written.  All I can say for myself is that I have been super busy with both work and surfing.  On top of the usual bull shit there have been some minor unsatisfactory issues in my personal life and annoyances in my financial affairs as well.  When it rains it pours people, at least I remembered to pack my umbrella this time.  Lets get started.  If you are a regular follower of the surflog I shall apologize in advance for any redundancies.  If your not reading the surflog then your missing out cause it is where all the uncut excitment happens on this blog these days.  Check it out.

Surfing


Finally after a near six week flat spell with waves in the knee high and under range the northern pacific decided to wake up and start sending some swell our way.  Considering NW is our primary swell generator up here in the Santa Barbara area it was a rather welcoming sight to be hold.  I managed to get as much water time as possible and when I compile September’s numbers I will post up that month in surfing’s review.  What I will say is that I am thankful everyday that I am a surfer and that no matter what happens or how hard I am tested when I put on my wet suit and step into the water everything makes sense even if only for the duration of that session.

Work

LisantiWestmont

My boss decided to put shrimp skewers on the menu about two weeks ago. Do you have any idea how many shrimp you need to skew for 800 people. Look at the size of that bowl. Its a lot of fucking shrimp!

Work is a necessary evil or so I am told and we are all led to believe.  Thus everyday, five days a week I show up to this place, this slave ship, punch the clock and work my fingers to the bone for a wage that is barely enough to keep my head above water.  None the less I do enjoy what I do and make a solid effort to cook one really good thing a day for the students I feed.  Its all good food, but I try and take one dish and just go that extra mile with it.  That way at the end of the day I can go home with a small sense of pride.  I have also decided to use the constant repetition of tasks to perfect my skill and technique.  My knife to hand coordination at this point and overall speed is getting to be unreal.

Ultimately I know I need to make a change soon.  Realistically I have hit the ceiling at Westmont for how high I can climb in the ranks.  Ever since I got passed on for sous chef a year ago I had known this.  I have seen plenty of cooks in this game stay at establishments years longer then they should have hoping to get a sous position only to be passed on time and time again.  I feel this may be the case for me.  My bosses don’t believe in me to be able to hold a position of responsibility and they are certainly entitled to their opinion.  As for me, I have to do what is best for me.

At the moment I am weighing all my options even considering an entire career change.  I love the culinary profession, but the pay just isn’t right and if it is then the hours are terrible.  At this point I think the only way I am going to stay in the game is if I open up my own place.  Otherwise I am exploring other avenues in life that could be more lucrative.   Time will tell.

My Romantic Turmoil

As many of you know I have been in a topsy turvy relationship for the past seven months.  We were stuck riding an on again off again roller coaster that neither of us knew how to stop.  Our love for each other was pure.  I know I loved her with all of my heart and would bet all I have that she felt the same.  Life and our meager situations in life got in the way.  Upon meeting me she had a falling out with the guy she was seeing, lost her job and found that the high cost of living and low wage rate in Santa Barbara had just about brought her to the brink of ruin.

I have been living in the above situation for the past six years and I suppose I am just used to it.  Between all of that stress and the normal problems that can be encountered in a new relationship combined with the fact that I am a very acquired taste for most women we were most likely doomed from the get go.  Of course this  always happens when I decide that I am in love and ready to commit.  Too little too late, when will I ever learn?  Yeah, at the moment I am feeling a bit on the meloncholy side.

We didn’t leave things with out any hope.  She mainly needs some time to get her personal affairs in order and think things through.  I was granted that time by her not so long in the past and totally respect where she is coming from even if it pains me terribly.  “If you love something set it free and if it comes back it was meant to be”.  Yes I know I have written that before during all the Adrienne bs (You can check out “One Last Perfect Day” and “Bowing Out” to see what being pathetic and heart break is really about.  Sorry long term readers, but there a tons of new readers now who may have missed these two gems of Lisanti despair).

I sort of got drunk on Saturday night at the Wild Cat, of all places.  Then decided to drunk dial her 11 times in a matter of a half hour and left her four crazy messages at 2 am.  Two were desperate pleas.  The third was angry and the last an apology for the latter.  Yep, that’s right I am a psycho.  Any chance I had a patching up that relationship is over.  I am sure the restraining order is in the mail.  It was sort of like this scene from “Blades of Glory”:


I really need to start understanding that actual life and fiction are not one in the same.  Then again how boring would life be with out a bit of drama.  Hope you all got a good laugh at my expense cause long live Chris Lisanti, king of the idiots.

The Party Life

The epitome of Fancytown!!!

The epitome of Fancytown!!!

Never fear my friends it has not been all bad times here in Lisanti Land.  As a matter of fact there has been many great adventures had in and around the vicinity of Fancytown.  After a somewhat of a hiatus this summer I hit the Wild Cat with a reckless abundance restoring the unstoppable duo of Bizarro and I know as “The Chris'”.  Besides the usual drunken debauchery that goes on in a club where the rules are few and gnarly personalities many the annual Gay Prom took place in September.  This year it was a Gatspy theme and a formal attire affair.  I have not had that much fun out since New Years.  Except it was better then New Years because the attendees were almost all regulars and since it was a Sunday night there were no amateurs.   Its bad enough we have to deal with that shit Friday and Saturday.

I am happy to report that the Gay Prom was the last time I have blacked out making it almost three full weeks.  I know that doesn’t sound like a long time for you non alcoholics out there, but for me its quite an accomplishment.  I hope to keep the being more sober ball rolling.  Besides that its been business as usual on the scene.

The Chris', a party force to be reckoned with.

The Chris’, a party force to be reckoned with.

Fuck Money, I am Going Back to Wampum

Financially my life is a fucking joke as usual.  About ten months ago or so my creditors finally caught up with me after eight years and decided to sue me through the mail, no court room necessary.  To counter file was like over $300 so I was shit out of luck.  Then I thought a lawyer friend of mine was helping me out with the whole thing.  As it turned out he didn’t do anything at all.  End result I had a default judgement against me for over three thousand dollars.  Currently there is a lean on my assets, which is comical since I don’t own anything, maybe they want Alfie and my pay checks are being garnished 15%.

If you thought it was tough living in Santa Barbara on my minuscule paycheck before, it is even harder with 15% less a week coming in.  Then my shit head land lord decided to raise the rent $100 a month meanwhile my salary has stayed the same even thought he called it an “increased cost of living raise”.  For who is what I want to know.  I will tell you who, ME!

Thanks to Obama care in all its stupity and splendor I have been cut down to part time status this way Sodexo doesn’t have to supply me any benefits including paid sick time, vacation time and paid holidays.  Looks like I just got screwed by big business and the US government.  On top of all of that I am going to have shell out a sum of money each month for health insurance I am being forced to buy.   Hmm…and that is how the rich get richer folks.  Thats all from Lisanti Land at the moment.  Now if you don’t mind I am going to fail at suicide and attempt to hang myself from my shower curtain rod.  Awesome!

This face is pretty much how I am feeling at the moment about everything.  At least its Rincon season.

This face is pretty much how I am feeling at the moment about everything. At least its Rincon season.

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