How is it that the month of March has already thus come upon us? It seems to me like I was just getting finished with Bizarro’s and my birthday weekend, which happened the first week of February and now I turn around and it’s March. Where did the time go? What happened? Hmmmmm…..My friends and I used to always joke about how days would get away from us. Now I guess I have moved on to entire months, maybe even years.
The Chris’ Birthday Bash
It was suppose to be a one night drinkers take all kind of party of Feb 6th. Instead it rolled into two solid nights of Wild Cat mayhem. This was an important year for the two of us. Bizarro was turning the big 30 and I had planned to announce my semi-retirement from the Santa Barbara party scene. It has been a great run, but I am pretty sure there is more to life then partying, casual sex and getting completely obliterated and I feel it is time to find out just what that is. I have had a long and fruitful run starting from when I was 13 years old back in Manasquan, New Jersey being held upside down for a keg stand by a dude twice my age to prove I could hang with the big boys. Since then I have been mixing it up with both friends and randoms all over the world.
There have been fun times, sad times, pathetic times and then the times I just can’t remember, mostly the latter. At 34 I am starting to feel my age and I think my body is telling me to seriously give it a rest. I always said that once my drinking began to affect my health and subsequently my surfing I would slow it down. Plus I sort of liked some of the positive effects in my day to day not being drunk, sick and hungover had to offer. Finally since Heather and I are giving things yet another go and a major part of our problems was my excessive social agenda stepping away made sense. Of course Lisanti can’t live with all work and no play. That being said I have limited my party appearances to just a handful of times a month and stay on the more sober side when I do. So far so good. Better to go out on top then found a bloated dead body lying face down on the sidewalk somewhere in a puddle of your own piss and vomit.
Surfing
Photo: Christopher Dunlea
I don’t really know whats to be said here that hasn’t already been done in detail in the surflog. El Nino started out strong bringing heaps of perfect angled WNW swell that basically lit up everything in this area. I even got a session at Sand Spit. Unfortunately I was stuck working most of the time and was only able to half utilize the swell on offer. Then it pretty much went flat for the back half of the month. For a very thorough look at the month of February in my surfing life click here.
Some early month point action. Photo: Christopher Dunlea
Work I have come to the realization that I hate the act of working in general. Sure, I especially hate my job, but I don’t believe that matters as much as the fact that I hate that I have a job. More then anything I find it quite absurd that I have to strictly adhere to a schedule that has been forcefully imposed upon me against my will. I don’t really feel like I need to be at work from 12-8:30 pm five days a week. Honestly I could get the job done in like five hours. Why can’t I come in at 1 some days or if the surf is going to be better mid day come in at like 10 am, prep out all my shit, leave and come back at like 3? Its just asinine in my opinion. Yes I understand that one has to have order and conformity in the work place. Unfortunately my surfing schedule and my working schedule so rarely coincide with one another. Fuck work!!!
Maybe I would be more jazzed if I actually made some real money and got to live the “good life” so to speak. I don’t make shit. I have way too many responsibilities for my pay grade and most days of the week am directly in charge of anywhere from 10-30 employees. On the weekends I am the infallible boss. I do all this for less money then my superior pays to get his car detailed each week. I should just go get a second job so I can be less poor and then I wont have to worry about fitting in surfing cause there just won’t be anytime for it at all. Then again the second job would put me in a higher tax bracket and in the end I would probably have less take home.
There was a time in this country about 50 years ago where almost everyone made a real living wage instead of just 25% of the population like it is now. I swear one of these days I am either going to cash out and disappear to someplace with good waves, cheap living and no crowds or go postal and start taking heads. Blaaaaaaah!!!!! Fuck it, I will just commit kitchen seppuku with my 7″ boning knife. Besides that I don’t really know if there is anything more to really say about the month of February except that its fucking over. Looks like El Nino has decided to quite on us along with the entire North Pacific. With some luck there might just be a few fun wind swell days here and there. For the most part I am looking at six months of shitty south swells, long gas and money burning drives to either Malibu or Jalama and of course absolutely terrible Emma Wood. The only upside is with te coming of May and the end of the semester approaching I have only two more months till being laid off for the summer. The downside to that: absolutely no money. I may have to suck dick for crack and then sell that crack…happy March everybody!!!!
Whoot, Whoot, small, shitty windblown Emma Wood for the next six months!!!!! Photo: H.Rayburn
Hmmmm…Its been a while my friends since I took the time to sit down and write an actual blog piece. As always I have tried to continuously on a daily basis update the surflog, which at this point has mostly become my day to day journal. There is always some type of worthwhile reading there if your bored, be it stoke, refreshing, ignominious or out right appalling. As I have said since I started this thing back in 2006 I am who I am. I have not ever made excuses for myself or on my behavior and I am not about to start now. If you don’t like it you don’t have to read it. Besides I believe the true judge of a person’s character is not on one action to the next but the overall purpose and intention of that individual.
We all make mistakes it is what makes us human and so endearing. Its how we decide to rectify and learn from those mistakes that is important. Being able to admit one’s own accountability is the key to living free. I come across so many people in my day to day who love to point the finger, pass the buck and play the blame game. It was “his or her fault”, “this happened because of that”and my personal favorite “I don’t know?”. It took me nearly 32 years to figure out my biggest problems in life stemmed from the fact that I was constantly caught up on who to blame for my impediments instead of how to fix them.
I have been spending an assemblage of time thinking about the above and many more aspects of my life the past few months. The month of February really threw me for a loop in many ways both positive and negative. I was left ultimately at a good deal of times completely at awe of what was going on around me or dumbfounded or both. I found myself swept away on a whirlwind of a ride physically, mentally, emotionally and financially. Up until this moment I was at a loss of the proper words to express myself here and too mind boggled to write the usual drivel I put out. So sorry if I left everyone in the dark. I will try to write a little bit more going forward. For now here are some of the highlights I failed to convey in the 28 days that passed.
The Chris & Chris Birthday Extravaganza, Feb 2nd-3rd It all started back in the fall when I constantly kept bumping into this dude either on the walk to, at or coming home from the club. Turned out he enjoyed the party as much as I did, could keep up with me and most nights completely out drink me. His name is Chris also, lives across the street from me in the identical building as me, in the exact same apartment as me but backwards and it also is apartment A. He is born on February 5th, Im born on the 4th and we are both from New York originally. As a result of this strange coincidence he became known as Bizarro Chris.
It did not take long for us to pair up and thanks to that partnership quickly climbed the ranks of the social echelon of the Wild Cat. It only made sense then that we should throw a macker of a birth bash. We invited many, some came. The party started at 9pm at my house, moved on to the Wild Cat round 11ish where we did double bottle service and had two booths reserved. We did a bottle of Bacardi for my table and a bottle of Jack for his. All I can say is the night at the club was top shelf and everyone in attendance had a hell of a good time. Then it was back to my house where the party ran till 5:30am Sunday.
Yes I did manage to make it to work by 12:30pm only a half hour late and we went out that night as well. My 32nd birth day was one for the books for sure. If you missed it then you blew it cause if you were someone I knew then you were invited. There is always next year.
Show Me the Money (or lack there of)
This past month also reminded me just how much I hate the institution of money and the extent of which it can drive a person crazy. There was a time many years ago when I was preoccupied with the idea of amassing great wealth. Owning big houses and driving nice cars. Then I realized that in order to do that you have to be a deceitful, corrupted, perverse and completely selfish individual stepping on as many people and ruining as many lives as necessary. Hey it’s cool, why share the wealth when one person can have enough money to make thousands live comfortably.
As for myself I have learned to live and thrive in a rather low maintenance, low budget, high out put existence. I am referring to my new ability and appreciation for living with in one’s own means. Years ago I lived beyond my means and it ran me to ruin. I could not handle the stress or the run around. I also could not justify spending all my time working when there was a wonderful world out there to enjoy and explore. Yeah I don’t want what most would call nice things.
Instead I have useful things. I have a reliable car that gets me to where I have to go. I live in a very adequate apartment that to me is a paradise. We know it here at SurfingRuinedMyLife.net as The Lisanti Palace. It may not be a palace in any form or tense of the word, but just ask anyone who has spent anytime here they will tell you it felt more like home then the Taj Mahal. For me true wealth is found in a fun surf session, a walk on the beach at sunset, my weekly dinner parties where I find myself nearly brought to tears as I am surrounded by such a wonderful collection of people all who have learned to embrace a splendid evening of good old fashioned human interaction.
The finer things in life I like to call it. You can’t put a price on that. It seems certain rich people have decided to put a price on my life. It all started in January and has steadily exacerbated since. Its funny how people who already have so much have no problem taking more from those who have so little. Maybe it was because I was happy and content with the little I had? All I can say is they can take everything material away from me and it is not going to change who I am and it is certainly not going to change how I live. CHRIS LISANTI IS NOT FOR SALE. That is all I am at liberty to say on this matter. Just know at the moment there are a number of greedy people looking to cut up my assets like a key lime pie.
The 401K Debacle
I don’t even know where to begin on this one. Lets go back almost 4 years ago when I first started working for Sodexo over at the Westmont College Kitchen. I was bright eyed and bushy tailed, thinking this was the start of a new and prosperous future. Turns out the whole thing was a crock of shit. I just fell into a dead end job where my efforts go unappreciated, my vigor misunderstood and my good natured feedback ignored. I guess for the first time in my life I finally found out what it means to be just another cog in the corporate machine.
Although not super stoked I was alright with it. The job paid my bills, allowed me to have some fun with cooking and gave me plenty of free time to enjoy life in a rather stress free environment. On February 14th that was all about to change because this particular day was a Thursday. Thursdays are paydays at my work. I actually forgot to grab my pay check not getting it till the following Monday since I don’t cash that shit till Tuesday anyway. Its self preservation. If I go out to the club with a full bank account on Friday come Monday I wont have a full bank account.
Upon taking my check to the bank I noticed it was for half the amount it should have been. I frantically studied the pay stub for answers. There it was right in the little box reserved for my 401k deduction. Normally that deduction is 3% and since the fund will match that at the end of the year its like free money making my participation in the program a no brainer even if the odds of me living to age 59.5 are slim. After that three percent there was a new deduction called “401k supp” and that took more then half my pay check.
I went to see my boss about it and he stared at me blankly and replied “well that could be problem”. First I called ADP the company responsible for our payroll. Two Indian call centers later and one American operator I finally got to speak to someone in charge, or so they would have me believe. I was told it was an error impart to the 401k trust, which is handled by the investment firm INT. I called these guys up and a twenty minute death hold and two supervisors later that all they took was 3% and it must be a payroll error within Sodexo.
I then called the Sodexo payroll department and they blamed INT who then blamed Sodexo and so on and so forth. This went on for a matter of three weeks, meanwhile every week half my paycheck was mysteriously vanishing into thin air. As of press time I am owed $866.22. I barely made rent, can’t pay any of my bills, don’t have enough to even buy food. I guess the joke is one me. I was told last Wednesday the matter was being handled and “someone would contact me”. Well no one contacted me, the money was not refunded and I am almost certain come Thursday I will be out another 25o bucks making my total loss over $1000.
Yeah I am a little stressed, but mostly saddened by the whole ordeal. Now I am trying to find a labor lawyer who would be willing to work probono so I can sue. I hate litigation and the painstaking process involved. All the while my bills are still going unpaid. At the moment my back is up against the wall. If anyone out there has the power to help me fight this thing please hit me up cause right now I am David trying to fight Goliath but I don’t even have a sling shot.
Some Positive Stuff
Surfing
February decided to bring on a few decent days of surfing. It also saw a revitalized Chris Lisanti and I managed to put in some real water time again. You can read the February 2013 page of the Surflog for more on that and look for a surfing recap blog soon.
No matter what life throws at me there will always be surfing.
I Met a Girl
Ok, you got me I meet lots of girls, but its rare I meet one that is actually worthy of my esteem enough to call her a woman. Its even more rare when I feel so inclined as to want to call her my own. Ironically this happened on the 15th right after the whole 401k anal raping started. I was out at the Wild Cat in my black on black pinstripe suite, black tie, red shirt for the Wild Cat’s annual Red and Black party. I am not going to lie I looked pretty fucking killer.
As I walked into the club I was caught by a flash from my past. At the bar there was this really beautiful also very well dressed chick I recognized well. It had been nearly two years since we had out little fling together, which due to a lack of propriety on my part (big surprise there) ended a bit ugly. It had been almost a year since I had seen her and I didn’t even think she lived in Santa Barbara anymore.
Shit she was in my club (if I was on foursquare I would def be the mayor there) the least I could do was cordially greet her. We exchanged the usual niceties such a meeting requires in proper society and went our own way. For me at the Cat on a Friday night I have a lot of rounds to make and drink for that matter. Seeing her had me lost in the rapture of “what if “. I don’t dwell on such form of thinking that often, but to be honest our falling out was one of those moments that from time to time I did meditate on.
I always say you miss 100% of the pitches you don’t swing at and never give up. I took a page out of my own book walked up to her and asked if I could call her sometime. She complied. Since then I must say things between us have been going rather well. That is all I am going to say about it here cause I don’t want to jinx it.
There you have it 2,000, words on why there were no blogs in February. Unless your special it should now be obvious that I had a rather full plate this past month. Cut me some slack with all the “Where have all the blogs gone crap”. I do hope to get more writings up here in March. Don’t lose the faith cause I sure haven’t. Thanks as always for reading. It warms my heart to know all of you are out there.
“The moral life of man forms part of the subject matter of the artist, but the morality of art consists in the perfect use of an imperfect medium.”
“No artist has ethical sympathies. An ethical sympathy in an artist is an unpardonable mannerism of style.”
“Vice and Virtue are to the artist materials for an art.”
“All art is at once surface and symbol. Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril. Those who read the symbol do so at their peril. It is the spectator, and not life that art really mirrors. Diversity of opinion about a work of art shows that the work is new, complex and vital. When critics disagree the artist is in accord with himself.”
“We can forgive a man for making a useful thing. The only excuse for making a useless thing is that one admires it intensely.”
-Oscar Wilde, 1891-
It is not easy to be different. Some choose to be, others had no choice, it was made for them at their inception into this universe. The moment one realizes he is different a certain division becomes made between him and his fellow man. A certain alienation is almost guaranteed. These differences shape one’s life. At the beginning when everyone knows no prejudice against the abnormal and there is no problem. As the years pass and eyes are opened the exceptional find themselves at times complete outcasts among their peers.
When I reached this climax I did not know any other way to react then to out lash with fits of uncontrollable anger. I was consumed for over twenty six years of my life with the terrible emotion. Then I began to slowly reel things in and get a grip of my own emotion. Finally I created my own fantasy world, Lisanti Land. That was when I knew I had finally gone off the deep end. It was in this pseudo world I designed for myself to live in peace that I finally discovered how wonderful the world around me actual is.
It was as if I awoke from a comma and everyday I have found myself in constant amazement of the world around me. I thought of this as I watched the sun slowly set over the ocean tonight to the peaceful sounds of waves breaking in front of me and water trickling down the cliffs behind me. It is for moments like that I truly live. Not for all the other bullshit, money, clothes, nice apartment, car etc. Life is about the beauty of the world around us. Life is bigger then human society.
For me living has become a fine art. My canvas the physical and metaphysical world. My medium time. For me time does not exist. I feel it passing, but have no care for its concept. I don’t care how long something is suppose to take according to requisite. I care how long it will take me to do it right and get the most I can out of it. Being skilled in the art of living I have tailored my own life, every detail of it important. For me these days detail means everything. Forget the big picture its all about the finite cause that is the only place where beauty and perfection can be found.
Unfortunately every now and again I have to get my passport stamped and leave Lisanti Land for the real world. When that happens more times then not it is a catastrophe. A few weeks ago I went up to Portland Oregon to attend my cousin’s wedding. I was very excited for the whole thing to be honest. I had not seen my cousin in nearly five years, maybe more to tell you the truth. I thought man it will be fun to chill with my boy and his girl. Get to know both of them. Upon arriving that was not the case at all.
I always over romanticize what the real world is all about ultimately letting myself down. As a result I believe I attended the wedding with a bad taste in my mouth. Instead of doing the classy thing and letting it all end there in the pacific northwest I instead decided to write a somewhat nasty blog on the whole ordeal. Thinking like Chaucer I would “immortalize the scoundrels for all of eternity in literature”. This I did in the third part of my Portland series.
I would later find out by doing this I caused a riff in my own family and worse then that almost ruined the wedding of my dear beloved sister. Apparently because my words were so hurtful an entire side of the family decided they were going to make my sister, who has never had a sinister thought about anyone in her entire life, pay for my mouth, my cynicism. Instead of going to the source, me, they felt it was better to hurt the closest people to me. Payback is a bitch I guess.
So to my cousin Rich I do full heartily apologize if I was the cause of an emotional distress for both my actions at your wedding and my review there after. It was done foolishly and hastily, but mostly classless, which I am the most ashamed of. I made some jests on style preferences. Who am I to comment on style? I am not an expert in fashion, although rather fashionable myself. I am not a designer. Only an expert in the field should be aloud to comment on such. I was no more then a mere naivete observer.
I made a comment on beauty, which once again is in the eye of the beholder and was with out a doubt a cheap shot of my own for gain of nothing. What a psycho I must be. Where I will not make any excuse for though is in the cuisine. This just happens to be a topic I am an expert in and a professional thus giving me the right to comment on my own fellow colleges. This does not and should not effect the host for you sir did not prepare the food and unless a background in culinary was possessed would go unnoticed to only the most stout.
All I can say is that you were insulted by the guy who got hammered and made a complete ass of himself at the night in question. While you sit there with your new bride in all of your happiness I sit here alone with my bottle and angry cat in front of my computer. If anything call it a jealous attack cause not everyone can be as lucky as some. I really do wish you two the best. I am sorry if I caused you any pain. Let me carry all the pain for the three of us. It suites me best I think.
Urban Adventuring Around Portland: Portland Part III has been rewritten. I believe this is only the second retraction I have ever printed here on SurfingRuinedMyLife.net, my blog. I rarely make apologies for my actions. It is against everything I stand for. One thing I must thank everyone for is that I now have no need to ever come back to New Jersey again until my sister and her husband have a baby. I am personally excommunicating myself from any family functions from here on in order to make sure no more embarrassments of this kind shall ever take place again.
For some reason I feel a bit gypped being it is 2012. Were we not suppose to have flying cars by now, wearing futuristic clothing with strange rings round different parts of the outfit and I’m pretty sure we should have had robots doing all our work for us? So much for that shit. If the world does not end in December I am going to royally be let down this year.
I have not written too much as of late. My excuse this time around is that I just feel sort of bored with my life. Trying this normal “real life” thing and doing what I’m “suppose to do” really leaves a lack time for adventuring and a paling few opportunities for spontaneity, two aspects of my life that I have constantly thrived on, well since birth actually. Don’t get me wrong I am digging this “settling down becoming a useful member of society” idea.
I guess its fun to have to go to work five days out of the week. Who really liked all that free time anyway? NOT ME…NO! I love to sweat it out for eight hours a day in a hot kitchen serving some other guys dreams while burning my hands and arms. All so I can be told I forgot the sauce, or the cheese or this side, or “this steak is not well done enough”. Bitch if I cooked it any longer it would have been a piece of mother fucking charcoal!
Now that I got that off my chest this new mundane life of surfing the same shitty breaks, in the same shitty town, in the same shitty state, in the same shitty country has caused a sort of mental paralysis. I literally have had blog writers block if such a thing is possible. Then I gave my life a bit more consideration and realized that even though I am living like everyone else my life still manages to be crazy and intense. Just going to the bank and grocery store at times produce ridiculous stories.
Rather then just write the surflog and the occasional UCB (which by the way has been rather sterile as of late, get those power of ten lists in for July) I have decided I am going to write about the adventures I have in my vain attempt at social normality. Its usually a collection of great moments of failure. The first subject I would like to write on is dating in today’s I’m too busy, high paced, smart phone society. As most of you know I have been single now for just about a year and unfortunately have had to partake in the world of adult dating.
Meeting Members of the Opposite Sex
I use the term adult dating to describe dating after college years. Once you get out of school meeting people becomes quite the challenge, at least for me anyway. When your young there are plenty of social circles one exists in where there are plenty of opportunities to meet new and different people. Those people introduce you to others and so on and so forth. By pure probability of the social circle system there is a decent chance of meeting a member of the opposite sex who you may click with.
As an adult those circles get smaller and tighter. While new ones become nearly impossible to penetrate. If you have a group of friends you have been hanging out with for twenty years and you bring in a new person that poor schmuck has a lot of catching up to do. Its hard trust me. There is only so long you can pretend to find inside jokes that you are on the outside of funny before you get fed up and go your own way. It sucks when your that guy people have to constantly be explaining what is going on and who is who to.
The Bar
Then there is the bar/club. This is my natural scene to meet people. Why do you go out to such places? To meet new people. Face the facts why go out and spend the price of an entire bottle or six pack for one drink if you just wanted to hang out with your friends and not meet anyone new? You could stay home with all your friends and drink for a quarter of the price. On paper this looks like the perfect scene for singles to go out and mingle.
Maybe at one time it was. These days its a mess out there. Your average person might go out a few times a month at best more times then not opting to stay home and sit around on the couch. I love the rules of probability so I go out a few nights a week. My attitude being nothing is sure as hell going to happen on my couch besides Alfie clawing the shit out of my legs. Of course when you go out a bunch there is another probability statistic that holds true: becoming an alcoholic. Its very easy my friends. One drink turns into five, then shots next thing you know your being woken up at 4am by the cops cause you passed out against a gas pump.
The quality of people you meet here are for the most part less then stellar as well. Drunks love drunks after all. My buddy and I have this running rule now: No Regulars. For me this is sort of an oxymoron cause we are regulars. The idea being if a woman is out as much as we are then she most likely has bigger problems then us. Basically we hang around looking for the women who have come out for some special occasion such as a holiday, birthday, wedding party, etc. These girls are most likely decent people looking to have a good time and worth meeting and they don’t know that we are there all the time.
“Do you come here often” she asks. “Never, this is only my third time at the Wild Cat” I reply as the bar tender hands me another rum and coke with out me having ordered it. It just so happens everyone I know is at that bar by coincidence that night. The other problem with the bar is the fact that when chicks go out they either put on their battle armor ready to fend off any suitor in their sights thanks in part to all the tools and douche bags out there who have ruined it for guys like myself. Getting past this armor is a hard one. If they don’t have their armor on then they have come out to get laid meaning come morning I am most likely never to see her again.
Yeah, the club does have some fringe benefits 😉
The Grocery Store
This is a place I have just recently come to embrace for meeting women at. For starters there are tons of women at the super market. I am personally a terrible opener. I never know what to say and most times when I do try I feel like I am just being bothersome, get flushed and quickly walk away as fast as I approached. At the grocery store I am the man.
I’m a chef. I know food and wine. No matter what section of the store I’m in if I see a woman looking at a certain item and she seems a bit confused I add my two cents. More times then not it leads into a conversation. Then I always blow it by not getting any digits. I like to leave things up to fate that way. I think if I see her again it was meant to be and I will ask for her number at that time. This system is double flawed. My short term memory and face recognition is spotty at best and odds of running into her again slim. Its a lose lose for me.
The Beach
There was a time when I was a professional surfer and I killed it on the beach. All I had to do was get out of the water and chicks would flock to me. These days I don’t have stickers on my board any more and therefore when I get out am just another average schmo. Yeah I still rip, but most women have no idea what good surfing is. Its been my understanding that in general they think who ever rode the wave the longest got the best ride even if that meant riding the white water all the way to the beach. Whenever I take a chick who knows little about surfing down to the beach with me all she says is “why did you keep falling” or “your rides were so short”. “Look at that guy he has been riding his waves all the way in” as she points to some kook on a soft top flailing his way in on the soap…FML.
Besides surfing I have no beach game what so ever. I think this is mainly because I am not a bro. Also I have chicken legs thus shorts are not flattering to me. One looks like an idiot on the beach in a pair of jeans. Here in Santa Barbara there are no surf able waves on our beaches most of the time and zero in the summer when chicks actually go to the beach. The surfing approach just does not work.
Maybe if I looked as sexy as this guy my beach game would be better. Hold on a second isn’t that the dude my ex girlfriend left me for? hmmmmm
The Coffee Shop
My buddy Mark thoroughly believes in this approach. Its true there are tons of woman at coffee shops just hanging out. Next to the bar I would have to think they are the second best casual social meccas. I have a problem. I don’t drink coffee. The caffeine makes me crazy. I am a naturally hyper person to begin with. Throw in the caffeine and I get neurotic and even at times am prone to have anxiety attacks. Between the two It makes me rather unattractive. Me on coffee:
Library, Gym, rec-center, church, parks
Although I love books and reading I do not like the library. Taking out books is such a hassle. Then I always forget to return them, lose or damage the material thus that “free” book became more then it would have cost to buy it. Here in Santa Barbara the library has become the headquarters for the homeless. I think we all know how I feel about bummery. Yes bummery is not a word. You can quote me on that: Bummery – the act of vagrancy. Honestly I rarely see good looking chicks in the library and they come there to read not be bothered by dudes looking to get in their pants.
I don’t work out and even if I do don’t develop muscle tone. I would rather just go surfing, skating or on a hike for my exercise. I do like cute girls in spandex though. Believe it or not I actually tried the gym briefly last summer on a one month free trial membership I got from Spectrum when I worked with FRS. I did not meet any one and mostly got yelled at for misusing the equipment. Eventually I got tired of the ridiculous amount of old men walking around the locker room butt naked with their shriveled up figs dangling about.
The reason I gave up on the gym…
What the fuck is a rec-center. Do they even exists anymore, seriously. If they do and they are filled with eligible hot single women please my readers enlighten me. I will reward you by building a statue of your likeness out of a block of Wisconsin cheddar cheese. They are more likely just to be filled with more naked old men walking around with their shriveled up figs.
I tried the church thing. For the most part churches are full of beautiful good hearted single women. The draw back is most of these women want to get married. I don’t really have a problem with that per say, second times a charm right. I do have a problem with the fact that the majority of these girls wont have sex with me until that marriage takes place and then some don’t believe in contraception. Although I would like to have children some day I would like it to be planned and limited. Oh and for whatever reason they are against drinking, partying and just about everything else that is fun. One thing that is for certain about churches is the likely hood of running into naked old men is rare if any.
Parks are cool. I love a nice park. There is nothing like a good stroll through a nice park on a gorgeous summer day. If I had a dog I would be golden. Chicks love dogs. Then again I don’t really want to walk around picking up dog shit in a little baggie and then having to carry that around till I find a trash receptacle. As much as chicks dig a guy with a dog I do not believe they fancy a guy who picks up shit and then carries it around with him in a little baggie. My dog would probably be gnarly and eat some little kid on the play ground. Then authorities would shot him on sight and then me cause I wouldn’t let them take me alive. Maybe its best if I just stayed at home with Alf. Plus I once saw an old homeless guy drop his pants and take a shit against a tree in a park once. That breaches both my homeless and old man fig problem.
The Internet
I don’t do the online thing. A bunch of people have recommended some great sites for me to try. I have heard countless success stories. On the other hand I have heard countless horror stories as well. What if I just end up having some weirdo old man send me a picture of his figs? I know it is the “way of the future” for people to meet. It seems really unnatural and forced to me, borderline desperate? I know I am old fashioned but what happened to meeting someone awesome in your day to day and having dinner? That is actually going to be our next segment in this new series.
I have messed around with the Craigslist personals. That shit is fucking gnarly. You want adventure start answering some of those adds. Unlike match.com and those other accepted, safe dating sites craigslist is dangerous and you never know who or what you are going to meet. Anyone who is willing to put themselves on that forum is got guts and worthy of my time. Believe me I have been on some interesting craigslist dates to say the least. Needless to say I am still single.
Singles Mixers
Yep I have tried some of these too. If you think internet dating is bad this is far worse. On the whole it is a collection of busted ass people thrown together in a somewhat hostile setting. Its almost like going to a stud farm. There is always more dudes then chicks there. Then we are all thrown into the coral together with alcohol. It is sort of like the bar but with bright lighting. I did two of such events saw just about the same people at both, drank my two complementary drinks and went to the Wild Cat. Mostly if was old men walking around with their figs safely concealed in their trousers.
I hope you found some humor in this. If you are single then you see that you are not alone my friends. Even a person as wonderfully man pretty as myself cant nab a girl friend to save his life. For whatever reason I don’t think this blog helps my case. Oh well if they can’t accept me for who I am then I don’t want any. Look for more dating fun in another segment soon.
With a face like this I am always in constant wonderment why the ladies stay away. I know what it is: My good looks and charm are too intimidating for them.
Its 3 fucking am and here I am writing some pointless drivel for you to read. Its all fucking bullshit, all of it. What happen to us? The human race I mean. We were once so decadent, so respectable, so human. Now look at us. We are all fucking pathetic. All of us. You may think your not, but you would be lying to yourself. How does one feel so alone in a crowd? How does one feel so lost amongst friends? Why can’t we make shit work out?
I just don’t understand. I had it all once and wanted more. Now I have nothing and want even less. Whats the world worth if the most important thing in it does not give a shit about you? How do i have everything and feel like absolutely nothing? Why am I happy but yet so sad? Why am I not drunk enough after a night of drinking? Why cant I let all the pain go? Why do I still care and hope. Why????? Why????? Why?
It was three pm when I found myself hopelessly up to my ankles in soapy shit water from my neighbor upstairs and virtually up the creak with out a paddle. As I sat there trying to bail the water out with a cracked basin all I could think was man not again. Talk about history repeating itself when I was in a similar position just over a year ago. How did this happen?
On Wednesday night the water was draining in my kitchen sink very slowly. On further inspection the bathroom sinks were all backed up as well. Common sense recites that there must be a clog in the line. Thursday morning I get home from class at 9am and both bathroom sinks and kitchen sink were full of dirty refuse. I busted out my amateur plumbing skills, took off the grease trap under the sink and let the water out. Then after checking the obvious areas a clog could form I got out my snake and began feeding it down the pipes. I have a 1/2″ manual 25′ long snake. I got it three quarters of the way down the pipes and still no sign of the snag.
All the while my hands are black in sewage and the problem not rectified. After watching some videos and reading up on the topic of unclogging drains I get the hair brained idea that I should go out and get my hands on a snake I can attach to my drill making feeding down the pipes easier. The internet is an amazing source of information and a great tool, but a little knowledge in the wrongs hand can be a very dangerous thing. This was exactly the case for me.
Leaving my kitchen sink in pieces I ran out to the hardware store to buy this stupid contraption thinking the whole time how smart I was. Thirty bucks later I got home, snake and drill in hand. As I was attaching the two together I heard the noise of a shower. My upstairs neighbor had just got home from work and jumped in the shower. Initially I thought nothing of this. Five minutes later a heap of disgusting second hand shower water started pouring out of my piping all over my kitchen floor.
I thought I was in a bad episode of “I Love Lucy” or something as I attempted to catch the water in an oversized cereal bowl and dump it into a twenty gallon bucket. Meanwhile the whole time attempting to keep my two cats from drinking the dirty water. Then I grabbed this old basin that had been sitting outside my apartment for an undisclosed amount of time and ingeniously put it under the pipe to catch the water while I began to run the snake down the pipe.
While in the process of this I noticed my feet wet. Turns out that basin had a huge crack in the bottom allowing the water to escape as fast as it filled. It was at that point where I admitted defeat. My hands were black as night, my clothes covered in dirt and shit water. I put the sink back together and called the building maintenance department. They showed up about half an hour later, took one look at my beaten dirty self, laughed told me I should have called them in the first place and busted out an industrial snake. The clog ended up being 45 feet down the line meaning there was no way I was ever going to get to it anyway.
End result I wasted the entire day on a Don Quixote dragon slaying, neglecting a full schedule of ding repair and plenty of homework to finish. When the fiasco was finally competed and I gave the place and myself a sound cleaning (I still feel dirty as all hell and the amount of bacteria that most likely found its way into my body through the many open cuts on my hands is too alarming to think about. What I can say is that my hands have been a bit on the swollen side since. If I die from some crazy bacterial infection you will know why). All said and done I figured there was no better way to wash off the hassle of the day then a good surf, but as I was headed for the door I got a phone call from my boss over at Westmont. He wanted me to come in to work the night shift.
Thats eight hours of time and half baby, God bless overtime. How could I say no? I would have to be a fool. I traded a shitty grovel session at Mesa Lane for some Benjamins in my pocket. Car payments are not getting any cheaper and I got a phone call from my landlord today claiming they wanted to charge me for the plumbing work. I attempted to explain about the shared line with my neighbors and therefore it could not be traced back to me personally. This point may or may not have registered. Only time will tell my friends. Either way Im sure it will make a fun filled blog.
It was suppose to be a one night drinkers take all kind of party of Feb 6th. Instead it rolled into two solid nights of Wild Cat mayhem. This was an important year for the two of us. Bizarro was turning the big 30 and I had planned to announce my semi-retirement from the Santa Barbara party scene. It has been a great run, but I am pretty sure there is more to life then partying, casual sex and getting completely obliterated and I feel it is time to find out just what that is. I have had a long and fruitful run starting from when I was 13 years old back in Manasquan, New Jersey being held upside down for a keg stand by a dude twice my age to prove I could hang with the big boys. Since then I have been mixing it up with both friends and randoms all over the world.
Besides that I don’t really know if there is anything more to really say about the month of February except that its fucking over. Looks like El Nino has decided to quite on us along with the entire North Pacific. With some luck there might just be a few fun wind swell days here and there. For the most part I am looking at six months of shitty south swells, long gas and money burning drives to either Malibu or Jalama and of course absolutely terrible Emma Wood. The only upside is with te coming of May and the end of the semester approaching I have only two more months till being laid off for the summer. The downside to that: absolutely no money. I may have to suck dick for crack and then sell that crack…happy March everybody!!!!
Surfing Ruined My Life 