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Archive for the ‘Blast From the Past’ Category

Even in over crowded California there are empty line ups for the intrepid.

Even in over crowded California there are empty line ups for the intrepid.

This blog was originally published on November 22 2009 on myspace.com.  About a week ago or so Kooky Kyle dug it up from my archives and recommended I reblog it here on SurfingRuinedMyLife.net.  Its funny cause its only four years ago and my life has changed in so many ways, yet in other ways certain things never change.  At the time my professional surfing career (or lack there of) was teetering on the cusp of extinction being paid  more  for my life style then surfing ability.  To supplement my meager income I worked a dead end job as the night attendant at a gas station in Goleta where I pretty much got paid to sit around read books, write my blog, listen to the same 50 tired hip hop songs all day on 103.3 The Vibe and be rude to customers.  Ever see clerks?  I was that guy.

Adrienne and I were just in the honeymoon stages of our to become tragic romance.  Two years down the drain.  “Better to have loved and lost then to not have loved at all”?  You can read Bowing Out if you want to rehash my misery cause that’s the only place your going to get lamentations about her.  I’m over it and can honestly say I have completely moved on with my life.  I think a year of mental and emotional torture on the subject was enough thank you.
Garden of Eden Parody

The 2009-2010 Season was an El Nino year and some of the best surf I have ever had the privilege to surf in the 805.  It might have been the best season of surfing for me personally in my entire life.  I was in the prime of my game, had curbed my drinking  and thanks to my easy schedule was always on it.  I met this dude Mark who stowed away with three of my boys from New Jersey on a trip from San Francisco to San Diego.  My old friend Alex was in medical school up in SF and was moving to SD for his residency.  Two of my other boys Sweet Charles and Dave, the Spring Lake crew, met up with him for an adventure down the coast.  

Mark another Spring Lake kid had just recently moved to Santa Cruz to loosely attend college but mostly surf and thus ultimately stopped going to class altogether.  The boys met up with him in SC then worked their way down to Santa Barbara where all of us scored some great sessions.  I should dig up that blog too for a blast from the past at some point.  The boys hung around for a few days till the swell backed off.  Mark offered his couch to me anytime I wanted to come up and surf Santa Cruz.  

After a lack luster week of surf and bad winds I browsed the forecast for Santa Cruz and sure enough it looked like a decent run of surf.  I called my boy Malone another Jersey guy who came out for the season and was living with Cory at the Palace.  He had wanted to come on one of  my crazy surfing jaunts for a while.  Just like that the stage was set for another imbecilic Chris Lisanti endeavor.  I apologize ahead of time for all the crazy different text size and fonts.  It pasted over from myspace all fucked up and I was too lazy to deal with the coding issues.  Any notes in “red” were added as hindsight notes.
North County Santa Cruz

November 22 2009

I woke up Bundled in all the clothes I was wearing the night before under a comforter and two blankets and was absolutely freezing starring face to face with Mark’s roommate’s tiny little cat Boodle sort of thinking maybe I should have stayed in the Barb.  Mark was already up boiling some water for tea and coffee psyched to be going on a mission up north since town was still pretty small and bogged with the tide.  I had driven the PCH up that stretch between Santa Cruz and Pacifica before and knew the raw potential of that coastline, just bursting with reefs, points and beachies, not to mention plenty of sharks.

Mark and Boodle

Mark and Boodle

 We got Malone up, warmed our insides with some tea and hit the road.  As expected the Lane was super high and completely un-ride-able.  We gave a check from the road on 4-mile (another tiny reefy point outside of town).  It was better there but had a few guys on it and was nothing special.  With 50 miles plus coastline to explore it seemed a waste to go for a paddle there.  Once out of town we checked a spot just North of Davenport, which was decent but had a few long boarders on it and was a bit fat looking. On a later trip Mauriello, Mark and I would score that place pretty fun.

Past there we drove for another ten miles or so before coming to a dip in the cliffs exposing a beach break and outer reef break with a handful of guys on it. There was plenty more size there, overhead at least. We drove on another mile or so and pulled off at this look out point on top of bluffs a solid 150 feet high. Below we spied out a series of reef breaks each having something to offer. The closest one to the previous break we passed had like three or four guys on it and was a somewhat fun looking right reef that we determined was well overhead after a watching someone get a wave.

What really interested us was this other reef about 100 yards north from the one being surfed.  From the looks of the set up it was a perfect A-frame reef with a short slabby left that appeared from our vantage point to end in a bit of dry reef.  The right meanwhile set up a heaving thirty yard barrel section before opening up to allow some turns.  This wave looked unreal, but the real tricky problem was figuring out how to get to the thing.  After about the first forty yards or so there was nothing but sheer cliff easily 100 feet down.  We gave it about ten minutes of deliberation on ways to get to the slab before deciding it too much work. Time was wasting and Malone was getting antsy. Every time I am up there I check this wave and have never seen it as good as that day.  I still have yet to surf it.

So perfect and yet so hard to reach.

So perfect and yet so hard to reach.

The vote was to move on.  Mark claimed he knew of a pretty decent beach break a bit further north near a lumber mill that he scoped out a few weeks back on a school excursion.   It was worth a shot.  Sure enough we pulled up to this beach break that looked about head high (in reality it was solid overhead) from the cliffs and there were peaks up and down this 500 yard stretch of beach.  It was rather breath taking.  All around us were these pine tree covered hills, on top of one was this lumber mill permeating the air with that saw dusty/pine smell. The beach was surrounded by cliffs except for a small section where there was a small river mouth that forced a break in the cliffs allowing easy access.

One of the reefs near the lumber mill.

One of the reefs near the lumber mill.

 I could tell right away that this was a beach/reef break mix by the way the waves were breaking.  On the southern most corner of the beach there was this right hander that was from the cliff anyway peeling off for a solid 50 yards or so bowling around itself the whole way down the line.  It kind of looked a bit soft, but certainly the best wave with accessibility we had seen.  At this point all three of us were bugging to get some surf and the decision was made to give the reef a go.

Some of the scenery at the spot.

Some of the scenery at the spot.

We suited up and walked down the refreshingly gradual trail to the break.  As we got closer the wave just kept looking more and more fun.  There was one guy on it and he was going left most of the time.  The left although much shorter was certainly punchy, worth a turn and a rampy close out section.  I paddled out and snagged a left off the bat, went for a hit under the lip and got destroyed and then proceeded to get caught inside for an eight wave set.  This is not very fun when the water is hovering in the low 50’s. 

 I got back out there and picked off a decent right, got tubed off the drop then hit it four times before the wave petered out in the channel.  After that I had a few more decent rides.  Both Mark and Malone were getting their share as well, Malone opting for the outside bombs, while Mark hung on the inside for the racy double ups.  The reef was pretty sick.  The wave would come in and go square off the drop, then it would bowl around itself for like another 30 yards or so giving a decent section to get at least two turns in.  The bigger ones were a bit mushy off the drop but then rolled into the slab and threw out super wide.

The beach break/river mouth combo

The beach break/river mouth combo

 After about thirty minutes of having the place to ourselves five other surfers paddled out, it was no big deal , there were still plenty of waves.  I was sitting pretty deep on the reef when this sizable set, probably the biggest yet popped up in front of me.  I took off on the second one a little deep.  I got to my feet, dropped in and next thing I know Im flying through the air upside down waiting to get destroyed by the lip.  The fucking thing hit me hard and sent me real deep.  I cant remember the last time I got hit by a wave that hard and held down that long.  Turns out according to Mark who had front row seats to the whole endeavor I dropped into a lip on top of a slabby double up causing me to eat shit. Come to think of it I got worked pretty hard the entire session only ridding a 5’10 when I should have had something more substantial. This has become one of my favorite spots in Northern California and I make it a point to surf there if its fun whenever I am in the area. 

We ended up surfing the place for a solid three and a half hours till it started to turn off a little with the lower tide, although it was still pretty decent.  From there we headed further north down the windy PCH as it followed the cagily coastline.  We passed numerous setups and spots that had potential.  There were just waves everywhere.  We pulled over and checked this beach break called Gazo Creek that just looked like there were perfect right peelers breaking off this river mouth reef thing.  Still cold and tired from our last session we decided to keep on the search.

What we were greeted with in the lot at Gazo.  As we would later find out that wave was more then double overhead and heavy.

What we were greeted with in the lot at Gazo. As we would later find out that wave was more then double overhead and heavy.

The boys and I ended up going all the way up to Pacifica and at that point I found it prudent to take Malone and Mark to Mavericks, which would not be breaking but at the very least they could get a look at the famous set up.  We got to the parking lot and some dude was suiting up to charge it.  Sure enough when we got in front of the cliff it was tiny (by Mav’s standards) maybe only 15 foot or so and just barely clearing the rocks, but strong enough that one could really get an understanding of how serious of a wave it is.

Mark Foo was a world class big wave rider who lost his life at Mavericks back in the early 90's.  This rock stands at the foot of the break in his memory.

Mark Foo was a world class big wave rider who lost his life at Mavericks back in the early 90’s. This rock stands at the foot of the break in his memory.

With waning light we decided our best bet was to truck it back to Gazo Creek and try our luck at the beach break.  We got there a little after four and by now some thick ominous gray clouds had moved in obscuring the sun set session we were hoping to relish.  The surf still looked really sick though and I had a feeling it was way bigger then the 4-6 feet we thought.  Malone opted out claiming it looked like a lot of work to put on a cold wet 4/3 to only get a few waves before dark and added he did not want to feel like fish food either.

Pacifica Peir

Pacifica Pier

 Mark and I were still up for the challenge and suited up.  Keep in mind this is a big open beach in the middle of nowhere in the wake of this old lighthouse not too far up the coast from it.  With every passing minute it was getting darker.  I handed Malone the camera so he could document our potential attack and subsequent death and we gave it a paddle.  As soon as Mark and I got down to beach level we knew we may have bit off more then we could chew (no pun intended).

Still looking somewhat inviting although a bit on the creepy side.

Still looking somewhat inviting although a bit on the creepy side.

 The shore break was solid head high and the white water on the inside was overhead.  There was a lot of water moving around and the sets were with out a doubt double overhead if not bigger.  We jumped in and immediately were fighting a current and thrashing our way out through the immense white water.  At first I was not sure if we were going to even make it to the lineup.  Finally after a few minutes of cold heavy ducking diving and paddling in place a channel opened up. Before we knew it we were out there.

Just to the north of Gazo is  Pigeon Pt and its subsequent self named light.  Pigeon Pt is also one of the biggest seal rookeries in California.

Just to the north of Gazo is Pigeon Pt and its subsequent self named light. Pigeon Pt is also one of the biggest seal rookeries in California.

 Im not going to lie at that point the surreal setting of the place began to get to me and I realized how small and insignificant I was in the food chain.  I had no way to judge the lineup not knowing if I was too far out or in.  I panicked and brought down Mark with me.  We decided to get one and go in quitting while we were ahead.  This break was in the middle of nowhere, it was sketchy as hell, we were in the heart of shark country during feeding time and the nearest hospital was easily a 45-minute drive away.  All of this was in my opinion a really bad combination for disaster.  Yeah these were all entities I should have considered before the actual paddle out, but when have I ever been one to sufficiently think anything I do through.  

There was not too much time to think about it thanks to a set that sneaked up on us out the back. To our dismay we took it on the head as a result of being out of position too far inside.  After the set passed I snagged an overhead in between wave that I got a hit and a floater out of.  Mark was right behind me on a smaller one that peeled all the way to beach giving him three solid turns.  We debating going back for more but ultimately chose to call it a day so we could live to surf tomorrow.  Both of us thought about those waves all night and the next day.  It did not help that as we walked up the beach we watched set after set of perfect double overhead rights peel down the beach.  On a pair of 5’9’s there was no way we could tackle it.  This spot would have to be conquered some other time.  We never conquered and I still have yet to surf there again.  As a matter of fact we were in a surf shop in town later in the trip and when we told the surf shop employee where we surfed he freaked “You have to be a nut to surf there.  There are more sharks then fish in the ocean at that spot.  You two were lucky to get out with your lives.”

The small non-set wave I caught to make my escape.

The small non-set wave I caught to make my escape.

That night Mark took us to this killer Mexican restaurant after which we went back to his place.  There we warmed ourselves with a cup of tea huddled around a lit stove burner. Over tea we excitingly conversed on  the day’s events and what the swell would bring in the morning. With that kind of sensory overload the three of us passed out in complete and utter exhaustion.  I cant remember the last time I slept on the floor so well.

There are nothing like little adventures like this that are relatively unplanned and enjoyed by the seat of one’s pants.  These days I am so locked in it seems I have less and less opportunity for adventure.  Every time I am in Santa Cruz I stop and eat a meal that Mexican joint.  I hope you enjoyed this reading this re-post as much as I had reliving it in my head when I edited it.

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I know what your thinking, “another blast from the past”.  Reruns suck, but since this stuff is like four years old I find it rather interesting and worth a read.  Syndication is great.  Kooky and I are currently working our way through all nine seasons of Seinfeld in sequential order.  It has become quite the task. 

So I wrote this blog back in May of 2006.  It is back in my competition days as a failing professional surfer.  Every year they had this big contest in NJ that took place on the best day of the fall and only the best of the best from NJ were invited to it.  If you did not get an invitation (mine always got lost in the mail) there was a qualifier event for it where the top three guys would get spots.  This blog is about the 2006 qualifier.  Enjoy.

Another year.  That’s what went through my head when it was announced that I was eliminated from the 2006 Grudge Match Trials.  I’m not complaining, although making a Semifinal berth I was definately tasting it.  It was not meant to be.  This was not my year.

The sea was angry on Sunday my friends.  I pulled up to Meters (Meters is this trashy beach break they held the contest at to save money on a permit for Casino pier, a way better surf spot just about a few miles north.  It is called Meters cause the entire parking lot is filled with parking meters and the only free parking is four blocks in land) in Seaside Park at about 8am and am greated by the competive portion of the Jenks Militia (The Jenks Militia was this militant group of surfers who attempted to keep the crowds down a this decent little spot Jenks in NJ.  They thought they were tough but when push came to shove it was just another case of stupid localism that I the time I whole heartily bought into) , Brian “Slobby” Robinson, Dalton Johnson and Neil Bergen.  Slob was like “its retarded out there”.   I went up to the beach to check it and it is about 6-8 foot plus out of contol dumping heavy strom chop.  Im just like fuck another year wasted.

I go to check in, usually Im in round 1 or 2 and I hate that cause you dont really get a chance to feel out the contest scene.  This particular day though I was hoping to go early so that I did not have to watch the gnarl all day.  We all know how my luck works.  I drew Heat 12 the last heat of round 1.

I camped out on the beach about 50 yards from the contest area, just far enough to hear the announcments but far enough not to be recognized or noticed.  For me this is standard contest procedure.  I need to focus, get in the zone and I need to keep to myself for atleast the first few heats.

After watching the first 5 heats and seeing everyone getting annihilated with already 2 broken boards in, I was getting a bit freaked out.  I was feeling a little anxious and over the conditions.  In a moment of extreme adversity I even seriously considered throwing the event and going home.  This was not a realistic option though cause Smith my sponsor was putting on the event and it ould look real bad if me one of thier team guys was a no show.

So with the encouragement of Sindia and Slobby I maned up and got ready for my heat.  At the advice of Maffucci I paddled out down at Fun Town Pier nearly 400 yrds North of the contest zone.  It although a bit unnecessary worked out nicely since I found a nice chanel in between 2 sand bars there.

The heat began and for the life of me I could not find a wave that even looked remotely ridable.  Everything looked like death to me.  10 minutes went by and I had still yet to catch a wave.  All the while my competitors were getting worked by the ones that they were taking.  Finally using the last 5 min adrenaline I picked off a 6 ft left, came off the bottom and hit a gnarly close out section for my first wave.  Then I snuck back out and picked off another mid-sized left, ran the barrel and doggy doored out before the wave ate me alive. Lucky for me I drew an easy heat with nobodies in it and somehow won the heat.  I was stoked on one hand for the win but a little nervous about having to paddle back out there.  It was definitely scary and I have charged a lot of crazy surf.

My quarterfinal heat came up and it is pretty stacked.  I got my boy Slobby in the heat, This kid from down south who beat me in the Golden Glove and some other older guy.  Dont ever count out the older guys especially when the conditions are big and chunky.  I was not about to make another Amo Mistake.  Amo was the Rip Curl rep at the time and this fat disgusting older guy who surfed like shit but everyone kissed his ass anyway to get deals on gear.  I was not one of them.  He beat me in the quarter finals at some pro-am. I left the guy alone and did my own thing meanwhile he frothed and some how surfed the heat of his life.

The surf had gotten a bit more organized but also began to feather way the hell outside and had amplified to atleast 10ft on set. I dont know what changed inside me from round 1 to the quarters, but all of a sudden I just got in a zone and the size no longer fazed me.  I from the opening bells to the closing bells charged and killed the biggest waves of the quarter finals as many has told me later.  I thought I should have won the heat, the judges gave me second.  Who really cares cause both spots advance.  Slob got worked real hard on a gnarly one and went in mid heat.

Now I was in the Semis and feeling incrediable.  At this point I began to think that I had a shot at winning the thing.  I had a pretty stacked Semi (Semis are always pretty stacked) Nick Blunda my ESA foe from last years season, him and I were neck and neck all year till I eventually clinched the title at the last contest of the year.  Pat Emery and amazing seasoned competitor and 2 times Easterns Masters Champ and Super Grom Rob Kelly who had just come off a win at the NSSA Scholastics in Florida against the East Coast’s best.  Needless to say a tough heat.

I surfed this heat similiar to my last grabbing bombs.  The only problem was most with exception of 2 were close outs and out of those 2 only one was a really exceptional score.  I knew Kelly had first cause he was picking of safe insiders and getting turns in.  Blunda was out of the mix trying for a right that was not really happening down the beach.  This left just Pat and me with 2 minutes left on the clock and I had Pat edged out.  With 30 seconds left I nab a bomb that like many others closed out on me.  When I get to the beach I turn to see Pat pick off this right with 5 seconds left and proceed to get barrelled, come out and then hit it twice.  I knew then that I was done for.  Thats the story of my life.

Pat went on to take 2nd in the finals along with Kelly in 3rd and some old guy from Ocean City won it.  Dave Warner from LBI got 4th earning the first alternate spot.  Some say they thought I got robbed and should have beat out Kelly in the Semi.  I say the judging was probaly pretty accurate although my one good wave in the Semis should have been an 8.  Im stoked for Pat.  The guy  is old and does not have as much time left as I do.  Time goes fast and now I am old, but I also looking back find it comical how much this stupid shit meant to me.  

As far as the product toss goes if Sindia had come we would have cleaned up, but she was previously engaged.  I scored a hat but then forgot it on the beach.  Plus I fell wierd beating younglings for product from my own sposors when they send me the same shit for free anyway.  Over all though I can’t complain too much.  I surfed the best I could have possibly surfed and came up short.  Ill get em next year. I did not get them next year instead getting injured.  Fuck competitive surfing and all the hoopla around it.  Just surf and have a great time doing it and you will always be a winner.

Chris Lisanti is a fucking goon

One of my hits from the event. Look at that wonderful wing span.

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I have been scourging through the old Myspace archives to save some of my old writing.  So expect more blast from the pasts then usual.  Not to mention when ever I find myself lost in life I always look back to my past writings to amaze myself on just how little anything ever really changes.  This blog goes back to 2006. At the time I was surfing for this rinky dink small time NJ clothing company called Slide.  At the time I really believed in the thing and thought it had promise.  I dropped O’Neill to sign with them. 

They threw this elaborate party to promote the spring line at some swanky hip club in NYC.  It just so happened to be the same night and same club as Carmen Electra’s Birthday Party.  At the time I was on a hiatus from the party scene.  Being married I was trying to do the responsible settled down guy thing.  As you can see it did not work out, any of it, the wife, life or the sponsor for that matter.  Hindsight 20/20 right.  Fuck it cause I am still partying like a mother fucking rock star, but with out the money, glamour or accolade, but the same destroyed liver.  Who has it better then me??? I wonder!!!??!?

So about a month ago Mark Provost of Slide Clothing invited me to a party that him and Joe Delgado were throwing to promote the line.  He sends me this Evite invitation to my email. I had never gotten an Evite before and I thought it was rather impressive.  Just saying the word Evite made me feel important.  Turns out the party is gonna be held at this club in the Meat Packing District in NYC call AER.

I had no idea what to expect from this event so I decided that the only way to do a party like this was to bring an entourage and I immediately roused the troops.  I always try and roll with an entourage when I step out.  Power in numbers, well I say party in numbers.  If you bring your own little party to another party then you my friend have just made a better party.   My entourage included Nick Kiefer, Grep P., Sindia, Her friend Tina (Tina was this posh chick Sindia grew up with although the two were complete opposites. Her and I never really got along until about a year after this she took up surfing, cashed in her life and moved to Hawaii.  Not even I can hate on that kind of commitment to allowing Surfing to Ruin Your Life)  and her MYSPACE date James (who by the way was one of the most stylish Asian guys I have ever met I was from Jersey, we did not have very much diversity in the town I grew up in) and Tina’s Friend rachel.   The scene was set for a most interesting evening on the town.

Like I said I had no idea what to expect all I knew was that Joe was known for throwing legendary parties and that this was his biggest yet.  So we arrived in the city via train around 11pm and caught a cab to the corner of 13th and 9th where the club was suppose to be.  We got there and were totally not in Kanas any more.  I am talking like we just stepped into the Twilight Zone and were lost in Yuppie Town.  There were fancy resturants, posh clubs, well dressed people, limos and nice cars everywhere.  I was like fuck it lets get this show on the road.

Now finding AER should have been a piece of cake but as it turned out we ended up walking around the same one block radius for about 15 minutes. Sindia finally asked a bouncer from another club where this mystery place was.  He pointed around the corner which we had already walked by twice.

Now the only places on this block was a club called Fusion and another called CVB.   Sindia once again bails us out cause guys dont ask for directions and asked the bouncer at CVB where AER is (Damn NYC weird ass letter club names).  Turns out CVB is AER and that it is one of those NYC underground “It” clubs that does not need a sign cause its patrons are “cool” enough to be in the know. There was a time years before this when I was in the know.

This place had a line, but I was on the VIP list so there were no worries in my mind that we were getting in.  We get to the door and the lady with the list looked us up and down, rolled her eyes an said we had a bad girl to guy ratio and cannot come in unless we found 2 more ladies.  At that point we were on the street trying to find any 2 random girls to join the entourage.

This is where Tina’s Friend Rachel came into the group.  She jumped at the chance and grabed a cab across town to join us and boost our ratio.  AER and its contents was a pretty big deal at the time.  We got to the front of the line again, I have some words with the list bitch and she finally lets us in.  The next hurtle was if Greg’s fake was gonna get bythe bouncer or not.  It worked and we were in.

This is where the raping of our wallets began.  All the guys got hit wth a 15 buck cover charge and then we had to pay to check our coats.  The place is packed.  I am talking elbow to elbow, hard to get around packed.  Turns out the Slide party was in the downstairs VIP lounge. We meander our way through the club till we find an elevator that took us down into the VIP Lounge and the supposed Slide party (we had yet to see).  This room is packed too.  There had to be 200 people packed into a room the size of the surf shop.  The surf shop I worked in at the time was maybe just over 500sqft.

We made camp near the bar in an attempt to find a familiar face.  Nick went off and got an $8 beer.  My figuring was that eventually someone we knew would need a drink and have to show up at the bar.  After a half hour Greg was over it and bounced (not that I blame him cause it definitely was not our scene).  Nick managed to run into his ex-gril friend of 5 years who was with another one of his ex’s.  Whats the odds of that shit? Nick’s had his share of ladies.

Finally Nick decided that we should get wasted and always up making an ass of myself I concurred. See I told you some things never change.  Unfortunately our cash situation had been dwindled exponentially since we got to the city, but then a light bulb went on in my head: Bar Tab. Once again things that never change.  I pull my credit card out and told the bar tender (who was hot in a crack whore sort of way) to run me a tab.  Turns out you have to have $50 minimum.  I figured for 50 bucks we could get pretty thrashed.  Think about it you could pretty much drink yourself to death “Leavin Lost Vegas” style.  I now know after three years of trying that drinking yourself to death takes much more commitment then my wallet and personal triumph at suicide can handle. 

As it turns out it got us 3 rum and cokes and a beer, no one got drunk and not even a little buzz.  I decide we should cruise and try to find Mark and Joe to atleast get credit for being at the event.  Now getting through this crowd was no simple task and definately not for the claustrophobic.  Somehow we made it to the other side of the lounge where I see Joe mixing drinks and puring shots for some of the hottest girls in the room.

Turns out they were getting bottles of vodka brought over to them by the house all night and we could have been drinking for free. Now stoked that we could finally get some rounds free Sindia chimes in that her feet hurt and that she was ready to split.  Chicks always want to throw in the towel when the night starts getting good. Meanwhile I was just getting started, but when I looked to see what time it was my watch said 1:10am and we needed to be on the 1:41 Train which was the last one of the night.  Problem: Miss the train.  Solution: Party all fucking night till the 5am train shows up.

We had to make like Cinderella and book.  As we were leaving the club was even more packed and there were camera crews around.  I was like man the Slide party must really be a big deal.  Later I would find out that Carmen Electra was having her birthday party at AER that night as well.  Her, Dave Navaro and god knows what other famous people were there. If I had known that I would have fucked the train and just stayed till the club threw us out.  After all I did not get home till 3:40am anyhow.

Total Collateral wallet damage: $52.82 bar tab, $30 cover charges, $10 coat Check, $15 cab fares, $30 in Train tickets, $10 in gas and $60 for an outfit for Sindia. Over all I could have bought a board for what I spent at the Slide Party. Will I attend the next one you ask?

HELL YEA CAUSE THATS HOW I ROLL.

Turns out there were no more Slide parties since this one actually bankrupted the brand.  I like how I complained about all the money the night out costed me.  These days I do high roller nights like they are going out of style.  Shit my bar tab last month at the Wild Cat was over $400.  Its not cheap to party.  Forget about clothes, my wardrobe is always popping.  I try to figure out if I was better off back then or now?  Fuck I guess its not for me to decided and all I can do is move forward. 

 

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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.

Chris Lisanti Skating the Jackson NJ Skate Park

I really do miss skating that ramp.

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This edition of Blast from the Past I would like to share a UCB I wrote back in October of 2009.  Even though it is a UCB no points will be awarded to this quarter to Scott for it. He already got his points back in 2009. Its a pretty funny blog I wrote about how I get off on saving money grocery shopping.  I always laugh ever time I peruse it.  I hope you enjoy it as well.  I know tonight I was in serious need of a good laugh.  

This weeks UCB makes a victor again of Scotty B. who apparently is fixing to oust Kooky Kyle as our current standing champ.  Scott did not win the quarter, Kooky took it.  Scott proposed I write about my “best super market score ever”.  For many of you out there that may not know me that well or have just known the Calified version of me, you may not understand what he is talking about.  I will use this blog to shed some light on the subject while highlighting my best super market scores.

Basically I’m what I like to call a genius of thrift or frugality, especially when it comes to eating.  Ok, you got me I am just cheap.  I used to save my money for surf equipment and travel.  These days the money I save means more drinks I can buy at the Wild Cat.  Aint alcoholism grand?

Super Markets in general are virtual treasure troves of bargains allowing one to eat like king yet live on a pauper’s budget.   I my friends love to live like a King and eat undoubtedly as much as King Henry the 8th yet some how always have some coin left over in my nuts and bolts budget (shit these days its more like a budget of bent rusty nails that only the likes of Salad Fingers can appreciate). Now many a stuck up person can and will shake a stick at some of the practices you are about to read, but trust me my friends if you look past the cautionary red tape that has been beaten into your brains about what should and should not be consumed then I assure you that there are ridiculous savings to be had.  I have not died or gotten adversely sick from anything I have eaten on the cheap.

Before I go any further with this I must go through my most recent shopping experience here in Santa Barbara.  Now California is not like Jersey and therefore you have to work a lot harder to find the savings.  Truth be told it has taken me nearly three years of coming out here to get it wired to which I still feel that I can do better.  I went to what I have found to have the best deals of the grocery stores out here, Albertsons (I am no way endorsed by this company or influenced any other way then the savings I get from my weekly shopping).  I have been shopping there four years now and know a good number of the full time employees on a first name basis.   In California its all about the club cards the stores have in order to take advantage of the biggest deals.  I think I have a card from ever store imaginable.

The big trick they try to pull in SB is the 10 for $10 dollar deals.  In some cases yeah if you need ten of something its not a bad deal but in most cases when you do the math you find out you really did not save enough money to be worth storing ten of anything and they never have 10 for 10 on family packs of condoms which really are the only things I really needed in that kind of bulk.  As 2pace would say “I get around”.

Anyhow, long story short I ended up buying $40 worth of groceries (my shopping for a week and a half or so) for $26.50 and that my friends was a high bill for me.  I had to buy a few things that last multiple weeks such as shampoo and sugar to name a few.  Albertson’s also every Monday night has this “Chicken Dinner Meal Deal” as they call it, where you get your choice of eight pieces of fried Chicken or a whole rotisserie chicken, two side dishes, a pound of potatoes wedges and a two liter bottle of Coke for $6.99.  I can eat off that for three to four days if I get it alone or my roommate and I split it spending $3.50 a piece each for dinner and then some, oh and I almost forgot it also comes with a package of four Hawaiian sweet rolls.   Back in the days of the frat we would get like three orders of it.  I think they raised the price to 8.99 now.  Still a great deal.  I have not taken advantage in sometime.  

How are these incredible savings possible?  Well here are some simple steps to help you on your quest to become a super market super shopper saver like myself  (say that ten times fast).  First make sure you sign up for whatever that super market’s club card is.  I know this sounds gay and you feel retarded having the little key chain cards dangling from your keys or those extra cards in your wallet.  I don’t carry a wallet anymore.  I am all about rolling my cash or lack there of small bills out around my ID and debit card.  You know what is not gay; saving nearly $200 a month in food shopping.  Getting these cards are free and relatively no hassle, usually all you have to do is hit up the courtesy booth and fill out an information form that you can totally lie about everything on if your one of those identity theft freaks.  Take your card (I prefer the key things so that I can always have my card on me) and let the savings rain down upon you.

Don’t shake a stick at those generic/store brand items.  Sure their packaging is not as flashy and you may have never heard of the company.  That is just because all that money Coke spent on advertising, Sasha Cola put into making their product $1.99 for a 12 pack instead of 4.99 and that is just one example.  I have also found here in California that the Spanish/Mexican brands seem to always be a bit cheaper as well, not to mention that there are entire Spanish markets that seem to always be a bit cheaper albeit on the ghetto side of things and not so white friendly.

Another money saver and probably the biggest one for me is the expired and damaged food section.   Not every super market has these.  Some of the more uppity places for example feel it cheapens their store.  These sections are not always easy to spot either.  Rule of thumb for finding this score of nearly free food, look near the entrance to the wear house or employee only section of the store and you will usually notice a shelf full of battered cans and ripped packages being sold for half if not three quarters their shelve price.   They store this stuff near the bathrooms too.

Make sure you inspect thoroughly the Appy (Deli), Bakery, Meat, Dairy and produce departments.  These five departments are a super saver’s best friends.  All contain time sensitive products that are ticking time bombs about to go bad.  Many stores rather then  throwing away these products will substantially reduce their prices sometimes as low as wholesale cost rather then lose 100% of the take right before the actual expiration date.  The best time to take advantage of these types of deals is at night usually after 7 or 8pm (don’t go to late or you risk the discounted products getting thrown away, which actually will bring us to our final topic).  If you notice that a certain grocery store gets a heavy lunch rush you may want to check the prepared foods or Appy department after 2pm to see if any of the left overs not purchased during the lunch rush have been marked down.

Shop Rite in Wall back in NJ was classic for all of the above.  I don’t think I have bought any meat here in SB that was not marked down for quick sale.  Pathmark in Wall NJ boxes up all their doughnuts and muffins after 10pm and sells a packed over full dozen size box for $1.99.  I used to thrive on those doughnuts for days.  Forget about Shop Rite that place will go down in my mind as the best super market chain I have ever had the privilege to both work and shop in (I actually worked at two separate locations at two separate times, but that is a whole other blog).

Finally last and probably the most questionable of my methods over the years is the dumpster behind the store after it has closed.  Food store dumpsters, be it a super market or convenience stores or even restaurants for that matter are where you can score a meal absolutely free.  This practice, although the cheapest also takes the most skill and cunning.  First off any time you go dumpster diving you take on some inherent safety risks.  You may have to fight off some bums, large insects and rats or worse, here there are skunks to contend with and entry in and out of the dumpster can cause injury as well.  This Mexican guy I work with Misha recently cut his arm pretty bad dumpster diving for thrift store discards.  I actually had to fight off a bum about a year ago for a discarded uneaten half of a sandwich I saw some business guy toss on State St.  Luckily I although hungry was not starving like the bum, thus my strength won out.  

In the case of dumpster diving for food you really have to use your head about what is still edible and not.  My rule of thumb has always been if it is still in the original sealed package and no more then a week or so past the “sell by” date you are probably golden.  Items such as meat and diary I don’t mess with, dysentery is no fun and the medical bills will totally make your savings null.  Bakery is usually ok especially if you get the stuff that is being thrown away at the end of the day.

When I used to live in Boston I always would score free bread and bakery products from the dumpster from the grocery store across the street from my apartment.  I just always made sure to get there before the bums.  The Einstein bagels in Wall NJ used to throw all their old bagels into their dumpster at the end of their day allowing me to pick off free bagels as well.  To my credit I have yet to dumpster dive here in SB, but with the way things are going monetarily for me, I think my time may be coming.

How have I gotten so good at Super Market savings?  My crazy mother was the coupon clipper queen and would go to every super market in town in order to seek out the cheapest price even if it was to save pennies on the dollar.   Now Im not this bad.  My time is more valuable to me and I figure all the gas driving from store to store eliminates any savings you would have had anyway.  I hope this helps some of you out there especially in these trying times.  Currently I am in the process of maybe setting up a food stamp thing by claiming I am homeless. Time will tell on that one.  As my roommate says “they can’t prove your not homeless”.  Wise words from a very special guy.

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I wrote this blog back on March 2nd 2009.  At the time I was living in an unofficial fraternity that I had started to enable myself to live rent free.  My ex-wife whom I wrote about last night in Feeling Awkward and I had split up only  a few months prior and I was for all extensive purposes drinking myself to death. This was initially published as a segment I used to call “Week in Review”, which is the equivalent of “News from Lisanti Land” now.  Initially it was a two parter, but I do not have part 2 currently at my disposal so you will just have to wait for it or got searching for it yourself.  I will tell you what, if you do find part 2 and are the first person to post the link in the comments it is worth 3 extra UCB points!  As always anything in red is added hindsight for this blog.

Well this week was a pretty big blur of a 6 day party fiasco, a ridiculous amount of surfing, a ton of visitors from the east coast and way, way, way, too much gnarl.  So I know I said I was going to take it easy on the party scene, but this week was a special exception.  Monday was my boy Brennan’s Birthday, Tuesday was Mardi Gras, then Scott got into town Wednesday and we had to celebrate, Thursday two friends of Cory’s came into town from Pennsylvania, and then it was Friday and Saturday so of course I had to keep on cruising.  Plus Pixie Rixon came up from San Diego to party on Saturday.  Rather then going day by day I’m just going to grab the highlights from the week.

Monday, Feb 23rd, afternoon:  After surfing some of the worst Rincon ever I was pretty much over surfing for the day and headed over to J7’s work shop to fix some boards.  3 hours later Brennan calls me and says he would be super amped  if he could surf a session on his birthday.  I tried to dissuade the guy knowing it was going to be on shore, super low tide and tiny.  Never a man to truly stomp on stoke we ended up cruising to C-street.

We get there and its like knee to waist high and side shore, but no one was out and there were a few lips that looked worthy.  We get out there and I soon realized wearing a 3/2 was a bad choice, the water was freezing and you know that once I get cold I just sit there.  Then there were these two little grommies who were constantly paddling me up the point add up all the adversities and I was pretty much over it.  Brennan got on my case about the whole little kids surfing circles around me thing so I made an effort in the last 30 minutes to school the kids which I did thanks to a 3 foot backside air on a knee high wave.

I got out of the water and my stomach was all cramped up.  These are not your average cramps.  Nope, these are those dreaded explosive diarrhea cramps.  Now I was surfing at the top of C-street and it was low tide leaving me a good 100 yards of rocks to walk over and then another 300 yard dash to the bathroom.  I charged that shit. I don’t think I have ever hustled that fast for anything in my life.  I get in the bathroom, the dirtiest public bathroom probably in all of Ventura County and rip my suit off as fast as humanly possible.  Of course I wore  the new Body Glove Vapor front zip, a very warm and comfortable suit but a bit on the difficult side to take on and off.  Not the sponsor plug, yeah I did my job back when I was a professional surfer.

I managed to get my suit down to my knees just in the nick of time before pissing out my asshole for a solid 15 minutes.  I mean I have had some pretty gnarly diarrhea before but this was crazy.   Straight up nothing but liquid was squirting out my hole.  To make matters worse I was dripping wet and freezing contributing to making this one of the top 3 worst bathroom experiences of my life (shit maybe I will write a blog about that on one of the free days).  Back in the myspace.com days I used to poorly attempt to adhere to a daily blog schedule.  It failed miserably.  I mean look how well I keep up with the UCB and that was suppose to be every Thursday.

Barley surviving I cleaned myself up, pulled back on my cold wet wet suit only to do a sorry walk of shame all the way to bottom free lot just above the pier.  I felt so violated and disgusted by the whole experience.  I got back to the car to a very jubilant Brennan ready to jive the shit out of me.  If it were not his birthday he definitely would have made it onto one of my lists.

I got dressed thinking the whole ordeal was over only to find out 5 minutes later as we are pulling out of the parking lot that the same dreaded cramps hit me again.  I was like dude we have to stop or I’m going to blow the seat out of my pants.  Luckily we were right across from the Habit Burger on Ventura Ave.  I got in there just as this haggard ass homeless lady was walking out.  I open the door and the bathroom is a mess, shit all over the place.

Clenching my ass closed with all my strength I quickly brought the toilet up to a bare bones level of cleanliness for me to sit on the seat.  Once again I took another ass piss.  While I’m in complete digestive agony this Mexican guy keeps banging on the door.  Finally after the 5th  time I scream at the dude that I was in the middle of the worst diarrhea of my life and to get off my fucken case.  Dude backed off.  Finally I guess I must have shitted all that was left in my stomach cause I was good to go, but the whole night out I was in constant fear of the shits coming back with a vengeance.  Luckily for me the whole ordeal was left behind in Ventura.

On a side note this whore I was seeing at the time ended up going home with my boy Brennan. Her excuse “It was his birthday Chris, everyone should get laid on their birthday”.  Somehow that did not make me feel much better.  At least I sort of had a hand in getting my boy laid.

 Wednesday Feb 24th 9pm:  While pre-gaming to go to the bar Face manages to pound 8 beers in a matter of 45 minutes.  Drunk as shit Scott, my Swedish neighbors and I persuade him to table dive through the pyramid of empties he build on the coffee table.  He goes for it belly flopping flat on the table after which I proceeded to poor beer all over his head.  From there he put on his dirt bike helmet while Scott and I hit him over the head with these two broken surfboards that I was going to hang on the wall.  Needless to say he was even more fun at the bar where I’m pretty sure he managed to hit on and aggravate every girl there.   I think one girl even slapped him across the face.  It was classic.

 

 

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Its rare that I let anyone else have any word time here at Surfingruinedmylife.net except for in the comments, where of course you can sound off on anything you like.  Kooky Kyle as everyone knows took the UCB championship last year thus winning his self expensive paid trip out to Lisanti Land.  He finally booked and actually arrived to Santa Barbara this previous March.    I told Kooky if he felt so inclined to write up a summary of his Lisanti Adventure Tour and if I thought it worth while I would post it here.

Initially this blog was suppose to be posted right after he left, but as soon as he left my relationship with Ades when bad.   Unfortunately for Kooky his blog got shelved in the vault of unwritten blogs (stay tuned for a possible new segment called blogs that did not make the cut.  I actually write nearly double the amount of blogs that I post.  Some nights I come home trashed from the bar and write the strangest things, some are just ludicrous rants, others just took too long for me to finish and thus the moment passed).  Poor Kyle’s blog fell into that category, most likely never to be seen by the public.

Well my friends although three months late here is Kooky’s take on his week in Lisanti Land.  It was suppose be published right after the “Kooky Kyle’s Chris Lisanti Adventure Tour” Blog . I would give that a perusal as well to refresh your memory or bring you up to speed if your new here, also you can compare both his take and mine on the same set of days.  Similar to the blast from the past blogs I will put any hind sight notes in Red.

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I first met Chris the way many of the SRL characters met him, back in the 3rd ave surf shop. Chris was a messianic like figure, sacrificing himself for surfing instead of humanity. Compared to others from that period in Lisanti Land, I did not get to spend as much time with him due to my predicament of residing in the middle of Maryland the majority of the year. For whatever reason, he eventually accepted me into his circle and much to my displeasure gave me the nickname Kooky Kyle (which to my dismay has followed me to college) I did spend some time with Lisanti building out the now gone Dings on Demand. I told my parent’s Chris was paying me, which was a lie, so I would not have to return to MD.

By my sophomore year at UNCW Chris had moved out to California. That spring, when I helped him pack his things as he got ready to leave NJ for good, Chris extended me his invitation to come visit. I took him up on it and booked a ticket for my last spring break. Due to ridiculous airline rules, my short temper and the circumstances under which I was visiting the trip was botched and our friendship almost ended there. I tried booking again in December to come visit but as a result of some glitch, my connecting flight from the east coast did not have the connecting flight to CA. Third time was the charm and I got out to CA march 11.

Based on statistics this trip seemed like a bad idea. Late season in a La Nina year, all arrows pointed towards surfing blown out beach break. But the best laid plans fall through and when one flies by the seat of their pants they are rewarded. 10 days in Lisanti Land resulted in roughly 24 hours of actual surfing.  And not at shitty C-street or ventura.

I knew the trip wouldn’t be a complete skunking when John got in touch with me and informed me that he too would be in Santa Barbara for my first weekend. It also looked like the surf would be coming to the party. I got on my flight for a change too, and then it was game on. Of course my luck is not perfect, tsunami warnings had my parents fretting . I touched down in LAX and took the shuttle to Santa Barbara, driving up the coast is an experience. “This must be C-street, that must be Pitas, that must be little Rincon, and there is Rincon.  Once off the shuttle I attempted to find the trail to Chris’s apartment but if you don’t know what you are looking at, the thing looks like a washed out strip on the hill. Luckily Chris was out from class early and he picked me up and we checked Sandbar, which was just a little too high.

After checking in with John and Brennan we hopped on the freeway to go surf Rincon, but the traffic was impossibly thick, instead we settled on Hammonds. John and Brennan met us in the parking lot for a sunset session and then we headed back to Chris’s apartment where we pregamed for the wildcat.  Everyone who comes here gets at least one crazy night at the Wild Cat.  Due to a lack of forsight, I neglected to mention my peculiar dietary habits (Kooky does not eat pork or beef, but will eat rabbit and venison) and was only able to eat the dirty rice, which was stellar.

I do not remember much of the shitty kitty, but I am told I was quite entertaining before I disappeared into the night. Blacked out I almost made it home, but made a wrong turn. Adrienne luckily came to the rescue and I passed out on the futon. I woke up $26 gone from my wallet, a handful of condoms, and a blue tire cap in my pockets.

John and Brennan had to head back to San FranFabulous, and once they were gone, Chris and I surfed Rincon, I got some that ran and even got a few turns and a barrel or two. The next day Chris had to head down to Ventura for car shopping and other errands. Since the swell was down up in SB it was a better bet for waves.(see surf log). Anyways, the car shopping was quite amusing, Chris has to be the most difficult person to sell a car to.

Sales person: “What are you looking for?”
Chris: “A car”
Sp: “what kind of car?”
C:“one that drives”

No enthusiasm, no emotion, just total apathy. See the More Shackles blog for more on this. One car dealership had no one on the lot, no prices on the cars and pretty much no one inside. When we finally found someone he brought out a rack of car keys and let us check out the cars. “Yea we should have the deeds to most of these cars” and “Yea if you guys want to test drive you can just take one of the cars” sketched us out about the place pretty badly. I still can’t believe how dumb Moses (the guy whom I bent over when I bought my car) and his whole dealership was giving Chris that car with no money down, a blank starter check, no deed to Sammy, no proof of insurance, and a terrible credit history. If you want to steal a car, Bunnin autogroup can make it happen easier than you would think possible.

Tuesday Chris had to size up some suits so we hit up all the surf shops in town, and being in town we checked Sandbar. Chris was not too excited about it, but considering how rarely it breaks, I seized the opportunity to surf it and made him surf it. At first he seemed pretty pissed about it, but once he got some waves he cheered up and was getting plenty of waves. I actually did get some really fun waves that session although I still think Rincon would have been better and I heard EL Cap was good.

Two days later we hit gold. El Capitan broke.  El Cap breaks good like three times a year. That wave is amazing, the bank there is engineered to create the most perfect spinning pits one can imagine. Sure it was packed as hell, and I had to fight for every wave, but I got a few great barrels, probably the best of my life. It was a bit rattling to have rocks thrown at me. I feel I was completely unobtrusive and stayed out of people’s way, but tensions were running high when we got out as the swell had dropped and the crowd had increased. Whatever, it was an amazing session

Chris has always imparted his fucked up wisdom to his little disciples. Whether it be on women, waves, car shopping, music or life plans he has been through some shit and usually has a worthwhile two cents to put in. After talking with him I have come to realize I can finally do the surf travel I have always wanted to do before I get locked into a career or a relationship (that’s right ladies, I am open for joy rides).

The trip was completely worth it. The food was fantastic, the company stellar, and the surf was great even if the wind was being an uncooperative bitch at times. Though all things considered it kept the crowds down and allowed me to get some waves. I strongly suggest those of you readers out there who have never entered a UCB submission to do so. If you don’t play you can’t win, and quite frankly I feel like Slater in 1999 unchallenged for my dominance here, bored and contemplating retirement. This trip is very worth it, quite frankly if we had an off day of surfing I would not have been disappointed, there was plenty of fun shit to do.

The time period when this blog came out I was oblivious that Ades was unhappy or that she was cheating on me.  I was too busy surfing and it was the last time I would be truly happy till  This week.   Looking back I would not have traded one of those surf sessions to allow for a different out come on things and I’m glad I catered to everyone’s needs who came out here for an adventure tour at least I was able to make someone happy during that time period.

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