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#@$% Valentine’s Day

Posted in Anger, Deep Thoughts, Life, tagged on February 15, 2012| 3 Comments »

You can fill in whatever four letter word that works for you in the title, kind of like those word books when I was kid, Mad Lips.  I do not believe I need to tell any of you out there the words I wish to fill in.  I have always hated this stupid ridiculous made up holiday.  I mean seriously was it created to make people feel bad or add to alcohol, drug and domestic abuse?

If you have a Valentine then it is a headache trying to make the day special for her.  The main reason is not because of a lack of love, but because every other idiot with a girl friend out there is trying to do the same thing.  End result, everything is crowded, over priced, over zealous.  You get frustrated cause you are blowing it.  She gets frustrated then upset, because you blew it.  She cries, then locks herself in the bathroom while you rub one out and go to sleep.  If your relationship lasts you get to hear about how you blew it for as long the two of you are together.

If your single things can play out in a few different scenarios, all start the same way: depression followed by drinking.   Now if your desperate and cant handle the idea of being alone you go out and call every female you know in hope that you can set up some type situation that will be even remotely close to a date.  Sticking dollar bills down your favorite stripper’s g-string does not count, neither do lap dances.  The date is awkward since you called her out of desperation and she most likely said yes  for the same reason.  After you both go your separate ways, she goes home locks herself in the bathroom and cries.  You go home, rub one out and go to sleep.

Next option: both male and female parties decide to go out in search of a “valentine for the night”.   For many years I have enjoyed time with plenty of women on Valentine’s Day who were looking to have a man for the night to reduce their loneliness.  End result here, next morning she goes home (hopefully, cause when it happens in your bathroom it is quite the nuisance) locks herself in the bathroom and cries.  Like most one night stand bar hook ups you feel even more alone.  In my case I have to wash the sheets on my bed, open my windows  and most likely sleep on the couch cause I can not handle the repugnant smell of casual sex.   If you do not meet a chick then you go home rub one out and go to sleep alone and miserable.

Finally I tried a different route this year.  Initially my plan was to go with the above option.  Then after giving it some  thought decided I would rather just sit home and empty a nice bottle Beaujolais I have been sitting on for such the occasion into my liver.  If you are going to depression drink at least do it with some class.  I have been fighting off this cold for the past week and decided getting absolutely shit house was a bad idea ( what? me really?).  I hung out with my roommates watched a few  episodes of Seinfeld from my box set (Kooky and I are trying to get through the whole thing before he leaves) and now I am writing this.

Maybe it is a step in the right direction.  All I can say is that a fucking broken heart sucks.   I have taken a lot injuries in  my life, but this hurts more then anything and it is completely fictitious.  I am not whining, well not that much anyway just stating a fact.  I find myself more times then not hating the fact that I am alone, but hating the idea of being with anyone.  How is that for an oxymoron?  The worst part is there are a couple of cool women floating around my life at the moment yet I just cant do it.  For now I prefer the company of total strangers.  When they leave in the morning I barely remember their names, in some cases am still too drunk to really even see what they look like and know that most likely I will never see any of them again.

Happy Valentine’s Day everyone.  All I am going to say is that if you have a Valentine take care of her and ladies appreciate the effort your man has made for you.  A relationship is about more then one stupid day out of the year.  It is about how the interaction is day in and day out.  In my opinion flowers for no reason is far more commendable then flowers on a day where it is EXPECTED!!!  Now if you don’t mind I am going to rub one out and go to sleep.

I was walking on Lead Better the other day and saw this sand sculpture. Its rather classic. I guess that dude was really over women.

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Micheala’s Lisanti Adventure Tour

Posted in Life, News From Lisanti Land, Skating, Surfing, Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 2, 2012| 3 Comments »


Who likes to party? We like to fucken party!

I have known this girl Micheala from my home town back in New Jersey since my buddy Bojangles dated her when she was 14.  Years have passed like their relationship.  Thanks to the wonderful internet perpetual waste of time FaceBook.com her and I began communicating pretty much right around the time Adrienne and I were falling apart.  It was nice to have someone to talk to especially someone who was an outsider to the situation.  When I was home in NJ over the summer playing some shows with a Santa Barbara based theater group, Proximity she took me around the NJ night life scene and even managed to get me to go out for a grovel  surf or two.  See A Trip Back East blog for more on that trip.

I was rather appreciative since Nick the Kook my usual partner in crime when I am back East was in Chile causing trouble.  You can read about his adventures on his blog Staywet.net.  The lazy fuck has not written anything in a while.  I need his incoherent stupidity to help myself feel better about the garbage I write.  As a token of my gratitude I offered Micheala a pass to Lisanti Land anytime she wished.  She had been claiming she was cruising for a while during her winter break.  I was skeptical.  People always tell me they are coming, but end up never making it, Keifer, Cory.  Cory may still be waiting for me to pick him up at LAX.  At this point he is like Tom Hanks in the movie Terminal.

To my surprise she ended up making it out here in early January and spent a solid seven days.  Now whenever I have a Lisanti Adventure Tour I always ask the recipient what he/she want to get out of the trip.  Santa Barbara is my town and if it is going down here and you want to be a part of it then more times then not I can make it happen.  My connections here get stronger every day and my own person wanderlust spirit has helped me to become a connoisseur on the town.  Whether it be surfing, skate boarding, wine tasting, hang gliding, sailing, island tours, whale watching, hiking, party, sky diving, breweries, events etc, I can make it happen.

Micheala was looking to surf and party as much as possible. These two options happen to be some of my stronger points as if this blog has not proved already over the years.  First night I had her at the Wild Cat sucking down rum and cokes with the boys.  I think I may have thrown in a round of Adios Mother Fuckers just for good measure.  It was a Sunday and those never disappoint at the Kitty.   A good time was enjoyed with out a doubt by all.

Next morning I had the day off.  The options were to either go down south and surf the beachies there or run up north to Jalama where conditions looked rather favorable.  I left the decision to her being she was a guest.  “I want to go get the biggest waves you can find” was her reply.  Remember folks in Lisanti Land one must always watch what they wish for.  We rolled up north and it was solid.  I was really only expecting chest to head high fun surf.  Turns out the beach break was easily 6-8ft and Tarantellas was breaking.

Like a bone head I forgot my wet suit back in Santa Barbara.  It was agreed that whomever got out first would allow me to use his suit between Sorbo or Kooky so I could get a few.  The gang paddled out at Tarantellas and were all rather shocked with the extreme gnarl factor and power of the wave.  Kooky fell in love with it.  Micheala and Sorbo found it a bit more then they were looking for.  Thanks to Kooky I managed to get a few fun ones too.  It was a splendid day on the beach.  Nice weather, good conditions and a very light crowd.  I think everyone had a great time.

That night Micheala wanted to keep the party going and then set the precedent that we were going to rage ever night till she left on Friday.  I do not think I need to tell any of my readers here about my party capabilities, but Micheala’s program nearly had me throw in the towel.  It was seven very exhausting nights of pure ridiculousness.  From druken fights, to samurai swords through living furniture, to urban golfing, calling a lady about her missing cat at 2am, throwing fruit and lord knows what else at one another on a drunken walk home, bizarre dancing on the cat walk and dance floor, vomiting behind dumpsters, after parties with Mexican gangsters.   You name it we did it that week.  Then after she left instead of taking the night off Kooky and I went out to the Kitty and I threw an after party that went just about all night with nearly thirty heads in attendance.  Good times.

Micheala also got a scrumptious home cooked meal from the Lisanti Kitchen.  By request Kooky and I served up grilled chicken pasta primavera in one of the best alfredo sauces I have put together yet.   Unfortunately thanks to starting up work at Westmont one meal was all I was able to prepare.  I had limited time to give to her tour as well.   She was an adventurous one and had no problem taking her skate board and meandering her way all over town.

She got a really fun day at Rincon where I believe she got one of the better waves of her life.  Learned first hand just how bad of a wave Leadbetter really is and got to sample my New Jersey wave away from home, New Jetty.  On her last night Sorbo and I decided to build a barricade of chairs to the ceiling in front of her bedroom door and then backed it up with the living room couch just to show our endearment towards her.  By far I think it was with out a doubt one of the heavier Lisanti Adventure Tours to date.  That’s the challenge out there for anyone willing to risk their skin in Lisanti Land, get more ridiculous then Micheala.

Here is a little slide show of some of the ridiculousness.

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The Lost Cat Video:

 

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Still Blowing it…

Posted in Deep Thoughts, Life, Surfing, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , on January 24, 2012| 6 Comments »

I have written all this before and am beginning to sound like a broken record.  If such is the case so be it.  You know what one of the definitions of insanity is?  Doing the same thing over and expecting different results.  At this point in my life I have stopped expecting different results.   Maybe that means I am no longer insane?  Or at the very least not in the that sense.   I think I still classify for the derangement of the mind meaning.

I am not going to lie to you people I have been blowing it hard lately.  You know that New Years proclamation I made about  drinking less and putting my efforts toward more positive actions.   As it turns out since the first I have been partying harder then ever and drinking like a fish.  I must say that at this point I am for augments sake a functioning alcoholic.  I guess it was only a matter of time.  Then again through out my entire life I have went through periods of heavy drink followed by periods of relative sobriety.  Maybe this is just an up turn on the drink side.

Last night I went out to the Wild Cat full on expecting to get shit house wasted and throw an after party at the palace despite the fact that I knew it was the first day of school Monday and that I had a 7am class.  End result of the festivities was finding myself doing vodka shots at 6am while Kooky prepared to go to work.  Needless to say I did not make it to class instead sleeping the entire day away.  The good news is I won the urban indoor golf game we played at 4am to the enjoyment of all my neighbors trying to get some sleep on a Sunday night for their Monday work days.

A few weeks ago I would have been shocked that I would do such a thing. Not this morning.  Nope, everything that went down all the way to this chick I was sort of into hooking up with another friend of mine right in front of me was not surprising at all.  I have truly become one of those Santa Barbara loser idiots I used to make fun of.  At this point I am working on becoming a complete waste of space.

I had this realization of how hard I am currently blowing it in life as I  stood there mid point this afternoon at El Capitan watching five guys enjoy small little waste high plus peelers.  I sat there holding my wet suit still a bit drunk taking it all in.  The green grass rock speckled ground under my feet, the setting sun and subsequent orange sky, the fact that I could not see anything around me but trees and rolling green hills with a llama ranch on it.  And of course the waves.  El Capitan is perfect.  I mean perfect.  Watching the waves break there is mesmerizing.  I don’t think there is a surfer alive who would shake a stick at it.

The cool wind felt amazing on my face.  I took a deep breath of the fresh air.  This is what life is really about I thought at that moment.  This is what I should be doing.  I am better then some alcohol swilling miscreant of the night in a vain attempt to drink my problems away.   Why had I let myself get to this point.  The in shape motivated 22 year old professional surfing Chris Lisanti would slap the shit out of me if he got into a time machine and saw me, himself and what I have let myself become.  I don’t know if I have found rock bottom yet, but I am for the most part at the moment  existing at the bottom of the barrel.

I tugged my wetsuit on and jumped into the water.  My head hurt a bit from both hangover and dehydration.  I stroked into my first wave, a clean waist high peeler and cracked off three solid turns.  Then I started catching a bunch of fun ones dismantling each with a solid backside attack.  Things made perfect sense out in the water. If only I felt the same way on land.  There in lies the problem perchance.  I have been spending far too much time on land and far too little in the water.

Towards the end of the evening as darkness was settling in Kooky and I post change stood there in solitude watching one last perfect little set peel down the point.  I looked at him and said “you know I am better then all this”.  He gave me an approving nod.   We turned away and walked through the dark to the car.  I don’t have answers right now, only questions.     I can’t promise anything.  What I do know is that I can do better…

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How Fast the Pendulum Can Swing: Christmas Dread Part III

Posted in Anger, Life, News From Lisanti Land, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on December 29, 2011| 10 Comments »

Lost? Get filled in by Reading Part I and Part II 

Have you ever seen that movie “The Hang Over”?  The last 36 hours I have been living it and let me tell you I still do not have any answers.  Instead I have a barely coherent tale pieced together from fuzzy logic, Kooky’s barely cognizant memory and lots of speculation.  Oh “ALCOHOL, CAN’T LIVE WITH OUT IT, NO DOUBT ABOUT IT”! How you have fucked with me since I started drinking at ten years old.

I have no idea what we were thinking.  I guess it all started with the strip club being closed.  On Christmas!?! How absurd is that.  Initially The plan West and I hatched on Christmas Eve was that we would all blow a lot of coke thus making it a white Christmas and then go to the titty bar from 7-9pm.  First we ruled out the cocaine for obvious reasons.  Remember I may be a drunk, but drugs have never really been my bag.

The Strip club, well that was just plain good sense.  All those lonely strippers too embarrassed to go home for the holidays due to their profession.  Us, three lonely bachelors looking for love in all the wrong places.  Then we found out Kooky had never been to a strip joint before.  It all made perfectly good sense.

Around 9ish we got to the strip club and it was closed to our utter dismay.  I had $20 bucks set aside for Kooky to get a lap dance and another $40 in singles for the girls.  Christmas dollars for everyone.  If that is not wonderful spreading of the holiday cheer I just don’t know what is.  (discloser: I actually am not a fan of strip clubs and honestly would rather spend my time and money at the bar where at least there is a chance the women may come home with me. These days I am told Trader Joes is the place to meet women except I can’t stand that place.  So I figure anyone who shops there I most likely would not care for either.  The only thing worthwhile to come out of that place is their wine selection. Two buck chuck not included!)

Wow, that was off topic.   I need to see a therapist…an Asian message therapist that is.  “Sir, would you like the happy ending?”  You bet your ass I do.  Last time I went for an Asian message they beat the living shit out of me.  I mean seriously it felt like I had six people kicking and punching me while the seventh held me down.  It was rather disturbing, but that is a blog for another day.

No Strip club, boo hoo.  We decided to dry our tears with rum and cokes and tequila shots at the Wild Cat in dedication to Sancho Clause.  This is after a few shots at home, Kooky drinking some moonshine out of a jar his boss gave him and mini-shots at JJ’s.  Yeah, you know the definition of insanity. Sound familiar if not then you did not read Part II of this very saga.

Hold the phone!  Who is Sancho Clause?  Sancho Clause is this character my co-worker Kevin and I created and is the Mexican ghetto version of our Santa Clause.  He is 5’3” over weight has a white beard but a black mustache, wears a sombrero and a Mexican flag colored poncho.  Instead of reindeer and a sleigh he rides in a 1986 Chevy Monte Carlo low rider with rims pulled by a dozen donkeys.  You don’t leave him cookies and milk, instead a bottle of Jose Cuervo and a copy of Hustler.  He does not leave you presents opting to take your presents, beat you with a lead pipe and rape your wife.  Ole. (Disclosure2: I am not a racist I hate and make fun of everyone and actually find the company of Mexicans most times more enjoyable then most Americans.)

After that round of shots I don’t remember a Goddamn thing.  All I know is that I woke up to Kooky pounding on my door at eight in the morning.  “I don’t want to surf right now” I yelled to him.  “Get up West got arrested, we have to go get him out” he replied.  “What?!!!!!” Kooky I think I got punched really hard in the side last night cause my ribs really hurt” I got out of bed and was barely able to walk.  Apparently I hurt my knee as well.  I limped to the bathroom and screamed.

Running the length of four to five of my ribs was a giant bruise and it hurt when I tried to breath or raise my arm.  I had no idea how any of this happened, my injuries or West’s arrest.  It was off to the jail to hopefully get some answers.

By now I have become a pro at this morning routine picking up more then one friend there after a crazy night.  Nick the Kook was a member of that club just this past January.  That is another story for another blog too.  We get there and It turns out they can’t let him out till ten.  To add insult to injury Kooky accidentally locked the key to my car inside it.  At that point him and I are sitting outside the jail waiting for AAA to come and unlock my car.  Both of us still drunk from the night before.  Forget AAA someone needs to call AA and have them haul my sorry ass away.

In the interim I got a call from West which ended with “Lisanti get me out of this box!”.  Things were a bit out of hand.  By this point it was 9am and with an hour to kill I did the only thing I knew in such situations.  After triple A got us back in the car Kooky and I went to Denny’s.  Somehow no matter how bad things look they always seem better after a janky Denny’s Breakfast and right now they have this build your own Grand Slam breakfast for $5.  We coupled it with an order of Ice Cream and red velvet hush puppies. YUM!

Following a meal like that how could anything be all that bad?  By the time we scarfed down breakfast West got out and we even threw a three stack of pancakes in a doggy bag for him.  Turns out he got charged with drunk in public, a common offense around here and one yours truly has been accused of and theft.  The latter definitely threw us a curve ball.  What could he have possibly stolen at 2am?  Of course he did not remember anything more then I did.

Now we went into crime solving mode.  The arrest took place at 7-11.  I assumed he must have walked in there wasted and waked out with a doughnut or something.  We rolled over there and the manager checked the tapes, called the night guy and came up with nothing.  We went to every government bureaucracy in Santa Barbara to no avail.  One cop told us not to worry and that it was most likely something stupid he would have to pay a fine for.

Here is what I have pieced together of what actually happened from 10pm on the 25th of December till 8am of the 26th.  According to Kooky another round of whiskey shots was done. Him and I danced on the cat walk while two gay guys attempted to put dollars in our pants (can you see the irony here cause I can).  In the process of dismounting from said place I most likely caused the injury to my knee.  We took a picture on my cell phone with some Norwegian girl, whose boyfriend was not amused.  Kooky and I signed out our tabs, collected our jackets and took a cab home.

Upon coming home we believe thanks to a testimony supplied by my roommate Ryan claiming he heard a scream, that I most likely fell entering my room and hit the corner of my night stand with my side. Judging from the shape, size and damage of the bruise it makes plenty of sense.  I remember waking up fully dressed in the middle of the night on the floor and crawling to my bed as well.  Kooky passed out on the little couch, which always seems to be the drunken choice for someone at the end of a “going hard” night.  As far as West goes we assume he got separated from us at some point stumbled around town lost for at least thirty minutes, got half way home eventually apprehended by the police.

Like I said all that is pure inference based on my gathering evidence over the last 36 hours.  Now my ribs are all busted up, my knee is fucked so I can’t surf at the present moment.  Poor West has to come back up here for a court date.  All as a result of being drunk and stupid.  For  me this was my wake up call.  Sure it did not come in the form of the ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future, but it was more then enough for me.

I am too old for this shit.  In three days it will be 2012 and I mean it.  I really am going to take my life back and this time I am going to make it count.  There will be no more lamenting about Adrienne.  I miss her like crazy, but I have to stop letting that pain ruin my life.  I registered for a full schedule of classes, will be working full time at Westmont and have already and should be done by early January with all the renovations on the Lisanti Palace.  Things are going to start picking up here in Lisanti Land in the positive.

Wild Cat Drunkards

Part of the evidence: Kooky, The Norwegian girl, Myself and half of West's face. Actually we wanted the bitch to take a picture of the three of us but then she decided to be in it making her bf take the pic, pissing him off and cutting off West.

Chris Lisanti is a dumb shit

There it is folks some heavy body damage courtesy of drunkenness.

 ****Post Script 12/29 1:33pm PST****
West hit me up today and it turns out he was arrested because he passed out in the back of a Taxi Cab.  The theft charge was  him not paying the fare.  All he has to do to get it dropped is pay for the taxi ride and he is in the clear.  The drunk in public like I said earlier is no big deal either.  Getting that offense is a  Santa Barbara right of passage.  I actually surfed today as well.  Check out the December ’11 Surflog for more on that.

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“The Greatest Christmas Ever”: Christmas Dread Part II

Posted in Life, News From Lisanti Land, Surfing, tagged , , , , , , on December 28, 2011| 8 Comments »

If you missed Part I click here to catch up.

Things started off rather amazing.  Christmas Eve West and I caught some really fun Rincon in the morning See December 24th of the Surflog for more about that.  Later the boys and I cruised back to the ‘Con.  Conditions were perfect if only it was about four feet bigger.  Then again if my grandmother had a dick she would be my grandfather.  That is an old Russian saying I picked up from a friend of mine a while back.  He would always tell me that in the water whenever I would say “it would be a ton of fun right now if the waves were six feet bigger”.

I ended up just bumbling around the rocks hunting for sea glass, shells and building rock stacks.  I played with a few random dogs that crossed my path as well.  Christmas Eve dinner featured steaks grilled on my coal grill in the back yard, a very nice bottle of French wine (It was Christmas so I decided to spoil myself).  The wine ended up being amazing and as a result I would not put the cork back into it.  The entire contents had to be drank.  West and I killed the bottle since poor Kooky had to work.  That kid is a go-getter.  We capped the evening off with a viewing of Mel Brooks’ masterpiece “Space Balls”.  How can it get better then that?

Before we proceed any further I find it of great importance to briefly speak on what happened or what may have happened on the night of the 23rd.  It was West’s first night in town and all three of us were in the mood to rage hard.  For whatever reason I bought a few days prior a fifth of Jose Cuervo.   Now tequila and I are bad news.  Whenever I get hammered off the stuff I get wild and those are the mornings I wake up with little recollection and big problems.

Of course I poured a few rounds of shots and it was off to the bar.  On the way down, mini shots all around.  Then at Wild Cat we did three rounds of Tequila shots, which we chased down with AMFs!!!! It was bad news.  Turns out none of us remembered a thing, but all were in agreement that a good time was had.  I know what little I do remember was awesome.

Skip forward to Christmas Day.  I awoke Christmas morning to no tree, no presents, no family and absolutely no fanfare.  Instead I woke up Kooky and West and we cruised to Rincon.  The point was firing.  The tide was a little high, but there was a light crowd and solid head high lines coming through.  For the next three hours I dismantled the entire point taking four runs from Indies to Cove.  Out of twenty four waves I caught at least fifteen were all time rides.  Kooky and West got some fun ones too.  Tom Curren was out with his sons and Yadin Nicol was all over it as well.

After a remarkable surf we rolled home for breakfast.  We made a quick stop at Vons to pick up a bottle of wine for dinner since I ended up drinking the entire bottle the night before.  This time I went with one of my favorite California red blends.  It has been nice to splurge on some nice wine this holiday considering how tight my wine budget has been the last few months.  At the check out counter the lady behind the register had some gnarly Christmas get up going that she finished off with her hair froed out and decorated like a Christmas tree.  Don’t worry I took a candid photo with my cell phone.

Back at the palace Kooky did up his famous crepes (they are incredible, kid has skills), while I did home fries and scrambled five eggs. It was a feast fit for a king and we reveled in it.  Upon the conclusion of Breakfast all three of us did the call home to our families thing and pretended like we missed them, all the while sitting on my back patio staring at the ocean enjoying the sunny 70 degree weather.  Jersey was like 35 degrees.

Then it was off to Rincon for round two.  Tide was a bit drained and the wind had gotten on it a bit.  It was still chest high plus and there were some real nuggets coming through the cove.  I had a few magical ones although tweaking my knee a bit in the process.  Kooky got the barrel of his life through the cove.  West had a good time as well.

Christmas dinner featured my acclaimed chicken parmigiana over gemelli pasta in my family’s old world marinara sauce.  We ate, we drank, we shared story.  Not once was there any disagreements, disappointment, or expectation.  It was just three friends sharing a meal and enjoying each others company.  If that is not what the true spirit of Christmas is all about I do not know what is. “It was the best Christmas Day ever”!  The night was a whole different ball game altogether.  Stay tuned for part III where things get just a little bit gnarly courtesy of tequila and Sancho Clause.  For in life even the best plans of mice and men shall go awry.

Christmas Tree Hair

This was our Christmas Cashier, trimmed and garland.  Sorry for the blur but I had to take it in secrecy all spy like.

Rock Stacking

One of my rock stacks made at Rincon on Christmas Eve

Rincon Christmas Day 2011

Christmas Morning at Rincon. mmmmmmmmmm!!!!!

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How a Christmas of Epic Proportions Led to Absolute Dread

Posted in Life, News From Lisanti Land, tagged , , , , , , , , , on December 27, 2011| 12 Comments »

Merry fucking belated Christmas everyone.  How was your holiday? I actually don’t really care to be honest.  Wow I’m mean, maybe even a slight touch Ebenezer Scrooge in me.  I guess I am still waiting for the ghosts to show up and give the incentive I need to change my life.   In a way that did sort of happen this December 25th except it did not come in the form of apparitions, but instead rounds upon rounds of tequila shots.  Nothing says happy holidays like complete and total inebriation.

We are getting ahead of ourselves at the moment for there is a lot tell.  I do believe you will find it a rather entertaining yet somewhat disturbing read.  Then again that is the case with most of what I post here.  This is going to be a two parter as the amount of insanity and ridiculousness that has gone down in the last 48 hours even blows my mind.  Shit it may run three parts and grab one of the top ten for 2011.

Christmas as most of you know is far from my favorite holiday.  When I was ten I contracted phenomena on Christmas and almost died. My first girlfriend and love dumped me on Christmas Eve when I was 15 years old over the phone.  As a result I ended up cultivating an unnatural disdain for women folk that lasted for nearly a decade and most likely still lingers in my subconscious.  You can sure as fuck bet Adrienne did not help that case either.  I really need to move on.

I read some study on getting over hard break ups and it said the amount of time it takes to heal is about one month for every three you were together.  So I guess I am looking at around eight months.  Yeah! Just two more months to go.  Alright.  Enough of that this story has nothing to do with her other then the fact that it would not have taken place had she still been with me.  I promise I will not mention such again for this series.

When I was 18 I was coming up the stairs to my apartment during my tenure at Berklee in Boston and the strap to my saxophone gig back broke sending my priceless tenor saxophone careening down three flights of steps.  At 19 I was arrested for a certain unpleasantness I would rather not discuss on my blog.  All I will say is be smart and stay on the right side of the law.  It’s not worth it.

At 21 my apartment caught fire as a direct result of faulty wiring on my Christmas tree.  My ex-wife and I lost all of our belongings in the fire and had to move in with my parents for six months while we got back on our feet. When I was twenty three my ex-wife broke her back in three places.  Our Christmas present that year was that after a long road of rehab she would make a full recovery.  At twenty six my ex-wife and I decided to split up during Christmas time.

My string of Christmas bad tidings is ludicrous and the main reason I decided to sit this one out this year.  There is not one Christmas decoration in my home. I just could not handle going home to New Jersey.  Hold on what am I saying.  Home is Santa Barbara California.  The last three years I have been celebrating Christmas with my family whom I love and adore.  This year my head was not there.

I needed some time for myself for a change.  All fall between work and school I have been running myself ragged.  Add the many bouts with heavy depression and even heavier drinking, throw in a heroin addict roommate and you have quite the aperture to over come.  By December I was spent physically, emotionally and mentally.  Just the thought of going home and facing my entire family and the questions of how things were going was too much to bare.

I hate lying and I hate lying to my loved ones more.  If I were to tell them all the truth about things I would just get countless lectures about my poor life choices and how I should cut my losses and move back east.  Not to mention the fact that my cousin just got engaged.  Him and I are the same age and have been pitted against each other by our parents for as long as I can remember.

The two of us don’t compete, but I constantly had to hear about how great my cousin Rich was doing and how much I was blowing it.  I love my cousin and wish him the best in life.  We are different people making a comparison is completely absurd.  My sister is toting around her fiancé as well.  I just could not deal with seeing two happy couples on the verge of spending the rest of their lives together in what I hope will be both harmony and bliss.  Not after all I have been through.

I canceled my plans and decided to hang up in Santa Barbara with Kooky, Ryan and this dude West who decided to come up from San Diego, another recent New Jersey expatriate, to not spend the holiday alone.  Since I am off from work till January sixth I was really looking forward to kicking back, surfing and relaxing.  Just as most happenings in Lisanti Land things got exacerbated rather fast.

So now the stage is set for a tragedy or a comedy or maybe a little bit of both.  Tune in tomorrow to find out exactly how Christmas this year got even a little too gnarly even for me.

Christmas Van

Merry Christmas…I don’t think this guy is allowed to go by elementary schools and hand out candy canes.

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Oh Billy!!?!

Posted in Anger, Life, News From Lisanti Land, tagged , , , , , , , , , on December 21, 2011| 6 Comments »

I promised myself I would write something significant this week.  Then Kooky Kyle forgot to pay the the cable bill and the swines turned off my internet.  After a round about phone conversation with a very nice sounding operator named Mindy I found myself paying way too much money to keep my “high speed” connection going.  Here is a quick play by play on how that conversation went.  Remember while reading this that I AM AN ASSHOLE.

Me: I went to log onto my internet today and surprisingly it said I needed to call customer service.
Mindy: Let me check your account.  As it turns out you owe us $84 USD in unpaid bills.
Me:  Really, that is surprising cause I know I sent a check in last month.
Mindy: Well sir it looks like you only paid $75 of the $89 you owed us and then there was no payment for December so we turned you off.
Me: Well I guess that is one way to get my attention.  So Mindy why do you think I only paid $75. Is it because you think I am stupid and did not know how to read my bill correctly?
Mindy: No sir I am not calling you stupid.  Maybe you just misunderstood.
Me: MISUNDERSTOOD!!! Wait are you calling me a retard who cannot read a bill correctly (this is most likely true).  I feel completely insulted right now.  It is a good thing you caught me on a good day or I might have hung up the phone and proceeded to slit my wrists in my bath tub.  Do you really want my suicide on your head Mindy.
Mindy: Sir, no I did not insinuate you should kill yourself at all.
Me: Thats right you didn’t, I did.  You know I am actually a rather smart man.  It baffles me that you think I am dumb.
Mindy: Ummm, sorry sir, uh. So your internet will be back on anywhere from eight to forty eight hours.
Me: I think I need to talk your superior cause I feel rather slighted here.
Mindy: I will transfer you…..Click

The bitch hung up on me and I was too lazy to call back.  over $100 later I got my internet back.  Hooray for monopolies.  I thought my trust busting friend Roosevelt took care of such bullshit.  I guess not.  That is the problem with these utility companies they can do whatever they want cause they know they got you by the balls.  Just for that I have a bit of fun with their customer service representatives.  I am sure Mindy got a good laugh or cry out of our little conversation together.  I hope she did not decide to slit her wrists.

As I was saying I wanted to write about something significant, but after all that hassle I guess I am just back to writing about “money, hoes and rims again”.  Tell me where that is from and who says it in the comments for 1 extra UCB point!  Actually that is an oxymoron since I have no money, no hoes and my car does not have rims :(.  I guess that means I am just writing absolute gibberish as usual, but you are reading it.

I posted some quality shit in the December ’11 edition of the surflog.  There are five new action packed sessions if you want some thing to read.  This week I am going to write two UCB’s. At the moment I am not married to any topics put down so if you have something I would post it.  The power ten is also still up for grabs.  This month’s winner may come down to the power of ten.  Besides that I have some fun comical stuff to post, a new recipe, and maybe even another short story.  Don’t give up on me yet.  If anything blame Kooky, but then again maybe just blame Adrienne since we here in Lisanti Land have decided that all my problems and those of my friends in the last six months can be tied back to her in some way or another.  I know real adult.  Then again life is all about passing the buck.

Its not my fault. Never!

This guy must be a cable company executive. I bet he has money, hoes and rims.

The cable company is not going to get his guys balls...

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I Blame Bob!

Posted in Anger, Life, News From Lisanti Land, tagged , , , , , , , , , , on December 7, 2011| 8 Comments »

I have ranted on this topic more then once in this blog, but here I go again anyway.  I hate automotive repair.  First off I have no idea about anything in the field thus making me susceptible to every sinister guy in the business.  Now I know a thing or two and am someone when on my full game is not to be reckoned with.  I can sell ice to a mother fucking Eskimo.  Shit I sold a surfboard once to a guy who lived in Ohio.  Put me in a situation where I have limited knowledge and I find myself a bit on the ignorant side.  Here is a story how a minor brake job became an adventure, cause in Lisanti Land nothing is ever minor.

I do a ton of driving. If you are serious about surfing in Santa Barbara it is a reality that you are putting at least eighty miles a day on your car, unless of course you enjoy surfing crap at Lead Better.  As a result I need to keep my whip in the best working order possible.  When my brakes started squeaking this past Saturday I knew it was time to get it looked at.  My roommate Ryan knew a guy who he claimed to be cheap and good.  I like cheap and good is even better. Throw in a free cup of coffee and box of ring dings and I would marry that guy.

I go over to Bob’s make shift little garage over on Milpas St.  at 11am on Monday.  I asked him how long he though and he said two hours.  No worries. I cruised home, studied for my baking final, took my baking final.  Got home around 4pm and still no word from good old Bob.  I call him up and here is what I got “well uh?  yeah the civic. ummmmm?????, funny story. We ended up getting the wrong size brake pads.  They are about 2mm too big.  Man thought we were going to nail it too”.  Astounded I was about to lose my cool, but I was standing on the bluff above Lead Better watching the sun set, just taking in the beauty of the world around me.

I was calm.  I took a deep breath and remembered that I am not in New Jersey, but in California where the concept of time  and responsibility is well, a bit less understood.  “Bob” I reply “I must say I am a bit disappointed in you and your operation. I needed my car back in the morning and now I do not have one.”  Bob said “yeah that is unfortunate, its a real bummer we got the wrong part”.   I took another long breath, got a grip of my emotions and said “Yep Bob it is really unfortunate and a real bummer.  I guess I will see you tomorrow then.”  “I promise Chris it will be done first thing in the morning”.  “What time do you think that will be around Bob?” I asked.  “10:00am”.

I hung up and threw one of my standard tantrums.  ‘Fuck you Bob you stupid mother fucking moron.  Its a real bummer indeed, for me. Fuck, Stupid ass Californian.  Breaks should take less then two hours, I know worked at a fucking gas station for two years.   C’mon Bob, C’mon man’.  I thought about going there and kicking his ass, but that would just mean I would have to fix my own breaks.  If I had that skill I would not have needed Bob in the first place.  I was frustrated to say the least.

My phone rang again and it was Bob.  Excited that maybe he figured something out I picked up.  “Hey Chris I just thought of something.  I have a buddy who drives a cab and he can hook it up if you need a ride”.  What?  Hook it up? What does that mean exactly.  That was Bob’s ingenious solutions???  I thanked him for the very kind offer and hung up.

My only saving grace was the bag of Nachos I had in my hand that I made at work on Friday.  Some how they still were not soggy.  It was classic. Ryan and I were standing there looking rather homeless eating chips out of a grease stained brown paper bag we kept passing back and forth.  Anyone walking by just figured we were two bums sharing a 40oz.  Yep nothing but big things for me in life folks.  Then I thought about hanging myself, but as usual I could not find any rope long enough or strong enough.  Since Bob had my car it was not like I could go to the store and procure some.  Another suicide attempt foiled in the planning stage by pure laziness oh and of course BOB!!!!

Still alive, who should come walking down the gnarl trail from Oceano?  None less then Kooky Kyle all dressed up like a real estate agent or something.  He grabbed the bag of chips for a hand full as well.  As it turns out he needed a ride to some hotel on the water front to apply for a bell boy job.  That kid is a go getter.  Ryan lent Kooky his truck parked in the car port.  Now Kooky not used to driving a large truck, not to mention the fact that my car port is the worst designed thing I have ever seen in my life, ended up catching the side of the truck on the side of the building thus knocking off Ryan’s side view mirror.

Another calamity caused by the incompetence of Bob.  Now Kooky has to get Ryan’s truck fixed.  Santa Barbara is like prison, you go in for a minor sentence and get stuck for twenty years cause you killed a guy in fight to save your own skin.  I had been invited to a pot luck dinner party that night.  Usually I do my own meals at the Lisanti Palace, but I thought a change of scenery might be nice and Lindsay said there would be some girls there.  I am trying to force myself to try and date a little bit.  I feel like it is the only way I am ever going to move on.  I cooked up Fettuccine Florentine.  Fettuccine Rigate, mixed with a creamy Alfredo sauce, sauteed spinach, summer squash, zuchini and portobello mushrooms.  I topped the whole thing off with chopped heirloom tomatoes.   It was quite the dish if I do say so myself.

Then I was faced with the dilemma of how to get there.  I was banking on getting a ride from Ryan.  When I went to get him dude was cutting z’s in his bed.  I was not about to wake the guy and after the Kooky incident not about to take the truck either.  Kooky and I decided to hoof it with the hopes of hitching.  At this point I am walking up Cliff Dr. towards Albertson’s with a roasting pan full of pasta and two oven mits on my hands.  Kooky was behind me with his thumb out and a bottle of Syrah.  Lucky for us we got picked up only about 1/4 of the way up.

They were nice enough to drop right in front of the house we wanted to go to.  I with my weak ass sense of direction had us walk the wrong way up the street, before realizing we were right in front of the place.  The dinner party was a mix of angry east coasters, hipsters and hippies.  Sounds like there could have been a fight.  Good thing everyone was happily liquored up.  I had a great time eventually stumbling home at midnight.  Thanks Bob for all the extra exercise!

Next morning I woke up and headed over to my good friend Bob’s to collect my car.  I got there just before ten only to see my car still on blocks and no work done.  I asked Bob how long he thought and he replied “two hours”.  Two hours from when Bob!?!  I decided to walk down to Winchells this dank doughnut place for some breakfast.  Its funny but comparatively walking down Milpas in conjunction to Sate St it is like a whole different country.  There are all these janky little Mexican shops.  Some tweaker bald black lady yelled some profanity at me.  There were gang bangers, day laborers, homeless and degenerates every where.  The restaurants are a little bit more sketchy. I really thought today might have been the day I was going to get that stabbing I have patiently been hoping for.

I got to Winchells and enjoyed a bagel breakfast sandwich, doughnut and cup of tea while reading some of the more obscure short stories of Hemingway.  You think I am negative pick up some of that guys works.  I finally understand his pain.  He carried the pain of a woman for the rest of his life.  That is what real love is maybe, not being able to move on.  I can respect that in a man.  As for myself I think I am finally paying for my misdoings in life.  If that is the case then I really do understand why now.

I cruised back to Bob’s around noon (once again not getting stabbed or even challenged) and my car is still on blocks.  By this point I was over it and just sat down on a pile of old tires and read more.  Finally at 1pm my car was done.  I got Bob to kick down the price by $50 bucks for my inconvenience.  That is how a two hour break job ends up taking 26 hours and all the events that ensued as a result.  For now on I am just going to blame all my problems on Bob!  Bob Ruined MY LIFE.

Here is an alternate form of transportation Bob could have suggested.

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Mi Famiglia

Posted in Deep Thoughts, Life, User Choice BLog, tagged , , , on November 17, 2011| 16 Comments »

This week’s UCB makes a winner of Nick the Kook with an old topic suggestion of “Family”  from I believe way back in August.  I have been mulling it over in my head literally for the last two months or so.  That is how you know you dropped a good topic when I stew on it for months.  Then again I stew on most things.  I think my life would be much easier if I just stopped thinking so much.  Maybe I just need to smoke more pot.  Kook earns one point for his efforts. Remember everyone November is half over so get your “Power of ten” lists in asap.

Its funny I really did not know how to approach this topic.  Initially I had dismissed it all together under the premise that I had written a similar blog back in the myspace.com days and that was if my memory serves me correct (it never does) was also a UCB and a rather negative take on the whole institution.  Well these days my thoughts are a bit different thus warranting another blog.

Blame it all on Chicken Enchilada Friday.  Last week I had to roll 834 enchiladas for dinner (if you are lost I run a small Mexican Station at the college I cook at for dinner Wednesday through Friday for more on that see  What it all Amounted to). Since I have been working at Westmont Enchilada days have been like a family affair.  Everyone in the kitchen pitches in and helps roll a few helping whomever has to make it happen on their menu finish in an hour rather then four.  It was my time of need and everyone helped me and it warmed my cold black heart  just a bit.

My Genetic Family

I spent the greater portion of my life hating my family.  I hated living with them, hated visiting, despised large family  gatherings such as holidays, weddings, or party’s.  Distance really does in my case make the heart grow fonder, as the phrase goes.  These days living in California completely across the country from the family I grew to hate, I have now grown to love once again.  I see my folks about once a year, maybe twice if I am lucky.  Its on the fault of both parties.  I hate New Jersey, which is where they live and they hate California, where I live.

Since we are a bunch of stubborn backward Italians no one bothers to compromise.  So I in recent years have actually made a trip home for the holidays to see my folks and even participate in a larger family Christmas gathering.  Its hard for me cause December is one of the few months where epic west swells are possible.  One year I missed near epic El Capitan, Sand Bar and Naples to visit my parents in South Florida where the waves were barely waist high.

You got me I was  bit sour on that one, but these days I have in my current vintage have reached a slightly heightened level of maturity (don’t worry I still spent about 30 minutes watching a flock of sea gulls fight off a flock of crows for a loaf of bread and loved every minute of it the other day.  If that proves anything of my “maturity,” see the surflog for more about that.).  With this recent yet minuscule ontogenesis in mentality I have come to realize that there are some things in life that are worth missing the occasional day of surfing for.  Heck these days I miss more sessions to alcohol abuse then I can keep track of (that is a lie they are all accounted for in the surflog so I can loath myself for my stupidity at a later date).

The fact of the matter is I love my family and it took moving across the country to realize just how important all of them are to me.  My parents raised me well.  I know right now I may not  the man I could be, but with the morals and good teachings instilled on me by them, when I gather the strength to pull my head out of my ass and achieve greatness it will be my family I thank first.  I actually do look forward to the few opportunities I get to visit and spend quality time with them and that is what all that time is now since it is so short, Quality Time.  I think we as people take for granted the ones closest to us and never realize just how much they actually mean to us till they are gone.

The Court of Lisanti Land

I have always kept a small yet tight nit group of friends around me.  These people I consider family even though they are not blood.  I would give my life for any of them as I would any of my actual blood relations.  I do every thing in my power to make sure they are in good spirit. Currently I have Kooky Kyle and my buddy Ryan living in my apartment for cheap, while I take on a bit of a financial loss.  having them here has been an amazing boost to my mental health and that one can not put a price tag on.  Over the summer I felt so alone and empty.

Now instead of coming home to a vacuous home my lair is bustling with activity.  Whether it is the entertaining antics of Kooky while he is stoned, or Ryan and his girl Addy enjoying each other’s company, the family meals Kooky and I prepare for everyone on Mondays and Tuesdays or when I bring left overs home from work and they jump on it.  I even enjoy the chorus of snores that come out of their room.  They brought life back to my somber cadaverous existence I was eking out.

Then there are my friends that live afar now but  once were active participants of the  court. Fact of the matter is if you have been a member of the court  and you know who you are then you are my family forever regardless of what goes down.    I have a few guys that I regularly surf with as well whom I would also consider family.  To me family are the people who help you to advance through life in a positive way. People who only want to see the best for you and don’t want to see you fall.  In a world full of scoundrels its nice to know I have so many genuine people around me.

A Family of My Own?!?

Ten years ago I would have rather have been raped by an electric eel then even have to think about starting a family.  Five years ago still not a twinkle in my eye.  Two years ago I was adamant on the topic.  The answer was always absolutely not.  These days as I watch the juncture of time pass by me empty and lonely I think a bit differently on the subject.  A wife, kids, some type of normal established life seems oddly appealing to me and yet at the same time completely unattainable.  Nor should I be aloud another chance.  I had mine and it passed.  Maybe it is only fair.  If my fate is to walk the earth for eternity alone so be it.  I will always have my court and their families to watch over.

My amazing family and I this past summer in NYC

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Talk About Behind the Eight Ball

Posted in Anger, Life, Music, Odd Jobs, Surfing, User Choice BLog, tagged , , , , , , , on November 1, 2011| 3 Comments »

I think it is classic Lisanti Land time scheme that I am posting October’s Power of Ten list on the first of November.  My excuse: too much party and real lack of motivation in life. Wait is that an excuse or my modus operandi?  Whatever the case its my blog and I do what I want.  I mean c’mon the last blog I wrote was about having assholes for fingers.  Enough said.  Anyway October’s power ten garnishes two UCB points upon my current housemate and Wild Cat partner in crime Kooky Kyle.

1. Bosses – Bosses fucking suck no matter how you try to disguise it.  Fact of the matter is if someone has the power to tell you what to do and your living relays on that it sucks.  Unfortunately that is how the real world works.  I have been a boss and I am sure my employees hated me too.  As far as the slang term “Boss” goes I cant stand it and when I am called such it usually sends me up into a fit of rage.

2. Job Hunting – Pounding the pavement is tough especially in today’s weak ass economy.  Luckily I have a job and whenever I am in need thanks to some of the insanity on craigslist I always seem to find work.  Hey if the job hunt wears you down you can always join the rest of the unemployed losers down on Wall St.

3.  John at New Jetty – New Jetty is this piece of shit wave I frequent in Ventura.  Most times it is no more then a boostable close out.  The place reminds me of New Jersey and usually if I’m not at Rincon then New Jetty is where I can be found.  Every time I surf there with Mauriello he ends up getting all the best waves of the day while I grovel on garbage all session.  It got to the point where I just started burning him on the good ones cause I am an asshole.

4. Gas Prices – Gas prices are a mystery to me.  When I was in High school I used be able to buy gas for .85 cents a gallon.  Now its nearly four bucks a gallon.  I know oil is a limited resource and all, but I do not believe it is that limited.  Also did we not go conquer like half the Middle East after 9/11?  I think gas should be a hell of a lot cheaper.

5.  The Plumbing in Lisanti Land – My apartment has by far the most ass backward plumbing known to man.  Its all old metal piping from the fifties and every time I need any kind of plumbing service I end up with a giant whole in the wall and a bill for over a few hundred dollars and before that happens I always find myself swimming in a giant pool of sewerage.  I am on the first floor and my plumbing is the end of the main line for the entire building.  When there is a clog you do the math on how much waste backs up on my floor.   Hey at least I have an ocean view.

6. Fleas – Fleas suck. I brought home a baby possum two years ago I found in the middle of the street.  Since then I have been plagued with fleas and so has poor Alfie.  They suck and are impossible to get rid of.  Last time I set off eight bombs in my small apartment and nearly killed myself, yet the little fuckers still prevailed.

7. A Love Supreme – In 1965 Coltrane released A Love Supreme.  It was the first time he took a step away from his hard bob roots and began the free jazz career that changed the face of jazz forever.  It is a pretty bad ass album.

8.  West Swells – Ahh west swells, they are the best out here and also elusive as hell.  When its on it makes for the best surfing here in Santa Barbara then anyplace else on the California coast.  Too bad we only see like three a year.

9.  Funny Things Homeless People Say – The homeless are like children.  They say the darnedest things.   The difference is you never know when a bum might shank you.  I guess one must feel the same about children these days as well.

10. “What is the Worst that can Happen” – This is pretty much my official catch phrase that I use to push myself and others over the edge on a questionable decision or situation.  I sort of feel like everyone should subscribe to this mantra.  I think it would make everyone’s lives more interesting.  I mean seriously what is the worst that could happen?

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