Posts Tagged ‘Kooky’

*For those of you who don’t know of Kooky’s latest adventure in Tanzania check out “He’s alive” and “Good Bye Kooky“.  They should bring you up to speed.*

How is the food in Tanzania? It is dumbfounding to me that it hasn’t conquered the world like italian or chinese food. One word comes to mind, amazing.   The best part about Tanzanian cuisine is you can loose weight if you stick to the diet, even if you eat all you can. I have lost between five and ten pounds. Please note that this only applies to men and all the weight lost will be muscle, not fat.

The base of the food is ugali which is boiled corn flour. It has the consistency of play dough and tastes like what you would imagine. It is served for most meals aside from breakfast. To eat ugali you break a ball off with your RIGHT HAND.  This is very important cause your left is the hand you wipe your butt with, also they don’t use toilet paper and normally no soap… You then take this ball of vaguely corn flavored dough and  try to pick up beans and greens that have been cooked until they loose their ability to be solid. You might get lucky and have some additional protein for dinner which could be one of a few things:

I did a google image search for Ugali and every picture pretty much looked like this.  Looks like a giant ball of masa.  YUM!

I did a google image search for Ugali and every picture pretty much looked like this. Looks like a giant ball of masa. YUM!

First we have daga which are little dried fish that are salted. They are about the length of your pinky.  If you walk within 40 ft of a pile of daga at the market you will know recognize it quite steadily. Daga, as I have seen it are usually served in a tomato based sauce.  You could have fried fish. These aren’t battered and fried pieces of cod or other nice white fish, it is river fish that have been fried whole until the  thing is crispy, even the meat. Tanzanians eat the whole thing, scales, bones, fins, guts and all.

A pile of Daga at a Tanzania market.

A pile of Daga at a Tanzania market.

In the world of poultry we have the ever present chicken. It is as fresh as you can get it right out of the back yard. these are gnarly chickens they are not the fat happy ones you might see over the fence of your neighborhood hipster. These chickens are fighting each while sifting through cow shit in search of worms or running like hell to not get raped by a rooster. They are also fried until thoroughly crisped. The head and liver are usually reserved for guest.

Next we have red meat. I have had beef for the first time in my life over here and those of you who say I don’t know what I am missing, now I know, and I don’t regret not eating it for 25 years. Goat is delicious. Half the joy I get out of watching baby goats romp and play is knowing they are going to be dinner one day and it will be amazing. The cuts of meat Tanzanians like are the gristly ones. The other day I got the sirloin of a cow and the butcher looked at me like I was crazy. Ribs, joints, and gristle are the prime cuts over here. Karibu is choice meat. Goat and beef are usually stewed in a garlic and tomato broth and it is quite tasty, if not reminiscent of chewing on a tire with bits of bone it.

Breakfast usually is either vitambu which is rice cooked down until a paste and then fried. The other option is mandazi, which are like over cooked triangular doughnuts.   These are not really drained out of the fat very well and are very greasy. They are typically served with delicious piping hot tea that has enough sugar in it to make a donkey walk out of it’s hooves.



They also love soda. America might be the second fattest nation, (thanks mexico for taking that torch) but Tanzanians diets are about on par with an American fast food diet nutritionally speaking.

If you wish to try a delicacy from the Tanga region where I was living, I am giving you the recipe for tambi, their version of pasta.

you will need:
1 package spaghetti
1/2 cup sunflower oil
1/2 cup sugar.

boil the pasta until it is just past al dente.
then add the oil and sugar.

bon appetite



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Besides contracting tape worms and bumming around on a beach in New Jersey pretending to have a job as a life guard Kooky Kyle decided to pack it in and move south.  As much as we would have loved to have him back out here in the Barb a man must do what a man must do.  But don’t take my word for it take his as he learns that even the bets plans in life don’t always work out…


As I sat  in my bedroom, in the wee hours of the morning on my birthday, the 16th of October I will proceeded to wake up, go run a crew practice, go for a surf, go to work and come home to repeat it all again the next day. In other places and other lives I have led, this would have satiated me. Here, back in Wilmington, I am not satiated. Surfing is something that isn’t happening often enough to make me happy. Crew is the main reason I came back to Wilmington

The crew team gave me a lot as a student; a body of friends, a physical outlet to keep me active, and an identity. I wanted to give back and help the team. Now that I have returned as an Alumni to coach it is not the same. I would have killed to have a coach when I was on the team and it feels as though I am not wanted and more of an annoyance than the boon I could be for the team.

There are several reasons for this. First, even though I made it clear to the Alumni (most of whom remembered) instead of coming back as the sole coach of the team, there is another coach. “I hadn’t heard from you” Everyone else did and no one told me you were in charge of this, last I heard it was the person I have been in touch with. The other coach rowed for a year and a half, has no prior coaching experience and last rowed in 2001. I on the other hand, rowed four years, have studied coaching under an Olympic level coach and have experience dealing with the school and the team and last rowed in June 2011.

Take your pick. I don’t want to correct him in front of the rowers but he is giving them some shitty advice that I know I am going to have to correct on the water. Additionally, I want to provide the team an outline of what they need to do to win. I know I wasn’t always in a focused boat that had the drive to win. When I was it was awesome. When I wasn’t, it sucked. The varsity seems to have no desire to do what they need to do to match their competitors. If this is because they think they know better, they are wrong. I was in the only boat to medal in the past decade, in vastly inferior equipment and at immense disadvantages.  I need to sit down with the board and talk about this, but right now it is bothering me.


Next we come to the topic of work. I was kind of told I had a job waiting for me in Wilmington when I came back. My friend backpedaled pretty quickly from “Yea, I definitely want to hire you” to “I am not sure I have a position for you.” I understand not giving me a job if you do not have the business for it, but do not tell me I have a job waiting for me and then take it away. Do not feel awkward about it, business is business.

I applied to be on a burn crew but missed the cut off date by 6 hours. I will still do burns to build my resume but I won’t be getting paid. I also have a resume in for the Peace Corps. In the interim to pay bills I have taken a restaurant job. I am working at a restaurant called Siena, an Italian Trattoria, whose cuisine I am pretty familiar with having lived with Chris. I was given the job within three hours of dropping off my resume. Boy did I walk into a shit storm.

It was an existing restaurant that had just hired a new chef and was starting their new menu that week. Apparently the chef was a dick and they had fired a bunch of people and others quit because of him. As a result they had the dishwasher making pizzas and she is still constantly fucking up. They were going from Italian comfort food standards to a slightly more upscale menu. It was pretty cool, they brought me in as a pizza cook and to work sauté.

Two days later the chef checked himself into rehab and I became the third most experienced cook in the kitchen. That has changed as they rehired the old Sous chef and an additional line cook. I am now working all the prep, which is the level I am most comfortable at. I start at noon and am out by 7:30. I am a little pissed about the pay, which should be higher. After the Chef and Sous I have the fastest knife skills in the place and can pretty much cover every position in the kitchen, whether pizzas, salads or sauté. They said at the end of 30 days we could sit down and negotiate a higher wage.

The Trailer Park

I am currently living with my roommate from my junior year, Jimmy. Jimmy is 50. We met when he decided that after having cancer he was done being a carpenter in southern California opting to become a marine Biologist instead, thus he enrolled in college. Back in my college days I moved into an on campus apartment with my friends and we had a random roommate. That roommate was Jimmy.

In many ways we are both grouchy old men. He constantly bitches about how lazy and stupid most kids are, how we have been babied our whole lives, have no sense of style, make shit music, have this attitude of entitlement and are basically emasculated. Some of that is true. I thought I would move back in with him since he was older and had his shit together, and didn’t seem like a slob. I was mistaken. He has all his shit piled in the living room. It has been two months, and he is constantly promising to do something about it. Any attempt I make at getting the piles of beer cans out is constantly thwarted. I thought the apartment was a mess because of our other roommates when we lived on campus turns out he didn’t help the matter.

I left finding a place up to him this past summer since I was not around. He is solely responsible for my degradation down to trailer trash. “Hey man it isn’t really a trailer park, there aren’t meth heads running around and cars on blocks, the grass is mowed” It is a bunch of mobile homes, ie, its a trailer park. The woman next door has her daughter, grand daughter, daughter’s boyfriend (who is not the father of her grand daughter) and her boyfriend all living in the same house. She mows lawns in the trailer park to make money, but hey at least “the lawns are mowed”.

Our landlords are completely racist, the other day they told Jimmy that “We have a timeshare down in St. Thomas, but there isn’t much to do there and there are too many n*****s. They are getting pretty pushy too.” They also feed all the stray cats in the neighborhood so it is somewhat like the Dumpster Cats of Westmont except there is no compact button to crush them all with. On top of that rent isn’t substantially cheaper than elsewhere in Wilmington and it is far as fuck from any sort of social life I could have here. It is so far from all the bars and where everyone else lives I can’t get a cab.  I have to crash at a friend’s house. Social life, bye bye.

Getting My Freak On or Lack There of…
Speaking of social life, wow, I forgot all my friends have pretty much moved on.  I have two female friends who are here but busy working as waitresses, so they are not any fun these days. My buddy Kacey is off becoming a pilot.  My friend Nick is still around but he doesn’t really go out and I hate his girl friend. My friend Jacque is going through a bad break up and is a shut in these days. There are a few kids still on the team that I am friends with from when I was on the team, but since I am a coach there is a limit on the social interaction I will allow myself to have with team members.  While I would make exceptions for them, I am keeping myself out of team parties until the season is over.

Things did not go as I had planned here. I am currently weighing my options. I really want to bail to Morocco for the winter but that is financially out of the question, unless I get some things turned around.  I need to get the fuck out of Wilmington, though I am not in the biggest of hurries. I can always return to California. I am very interested in checking out San Fran. I know I always have a place at the Lisanti Palace in Court, as well as some other connections I made traveling . I wouldn’t mind getting the work Visa and doing a year in New Zealand.

I also want to see how the Peace Corps pans out. I would be super stoked to get that but it is quite competitive and frankly I coasted through college, not doing all I could to set my self up with a strong resume. Part of me wants to return to the primal side of things. Something I have ignored and barely fostered for a few years now. I want to nurture that part of my soul as that has always made me the happiest I have been outside of when I am surfing.  I just don’t know how that can pan out with relation to my future. Happy Twenty Fourth Birthday.



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The first Power of Ten of the quarter and the month of February goes to Kooky Kyle, whom also earned himself one bonus point for answering the question posed in the UCB winners blog.  The champ is already off to a strong start.  At this moment he is on a bus to LA to catch a plane bound for New Zealand and the next chapter of his adventures.  Don’t worry there will be plenty of Kooky’s Korner entries written by him about his escapades in the land of the sheep.  I for one am very proud of the kid.  He also carried himself quite well last night at the strip club.

Now they are not really my cup of tea, but the guy had never been to one at 23.  I am sorry but it is a straight man’s right of passage to go to the titty bar at 18 and get a lap dance.  I think he was a bit mortified by the whole thing.  I don’t blame him.  Strip clubs are some of the lowest forms of our civilization.  Nothing says I give up like that.  The strippers have given up their personal dignity and pride and so have the customers.  I would rather buy a pretty girl a nice meal for 100 bucks then have her dance on my lap naked.  Maybe that is me just romanticizing life again.  Anyway lets get back to the power of ten cause this can of worms is a whole different blog for another time.

1.  The Barf Barrel – This could be a blog in itself and it may have been written back in the early myspace days.  When I was a junior in high school  Mac Donalds had this promotion, twenty five cent cheese burger Tuesdays or something.  My boy Odie and I on the way to an after school surf decided to stop and pick up $10 bucks worth.  That is forty burgers!  We scarfed that shit down then went up to the beach.  Turns out it was firing.  Solid 6-8ft and barrels everywhere.  We ran out there and began tearing it up.  Well it did not take long for the indigestion to set in.  By my fourth wave I as not feeling so well.  I was sitting out there in agony when this perfect left bowl came right to me.  All the boys started hooting and hollering.  I was the deepest so I had to go.  I sucked it up and paddled into the wave.  Upon dropping in I was ensconced in the pit.  It was solid, so wide I could drive my Honda Civic through it.  Half way into the ride I felt my lunch coming up with a vengeance. Sure enough I spewed right into the face of the wave.   Then I proceeded to watch the vomit go up the face and around the tube.  I basically surfed through a barrel of my own throw up.  I barfed another two times on the paddle back out and then was fine for the rest of the afternoon.  Odie lost his lunch too.  It was a pretty great session.  My buddy Jason saw the whole thing from the side while he was paddling back out.  Said he almost blew chunks as a result too.

Barf Barrel

Just Imagine seeing a streak of vomit coming over me and that would have been what the Barf Barrel looked like.

2. Surf Lingo – On the whole I find surf lingo rather ridiculous and somewhat demeaning to surfers, especially when used by non surfers who have no idea what they are  talking about.  There are some instances where surf lingo or surf speak as I like to refer to it is necessary.  That is for certain feelings, emotions and circumstances that can only happen while surfing and be experienced by a surfer.  It is for those reasons certain surf speak was created.  There were no other words in the human language to describe such.  Barrel, tube, pit, larrel, lip, mush burger, green room, slotted, etc. are all terms to describe different parts of the wave/ride.  They have meaning in the English language but none of those definitions fit their meaning in surfing.  Kook, ripper, shredder, sweeper, sponger, wahine, loc, heavy, punk etc.  are all terms that describe different types of  surfers and abilities. What I am saying is I am fine with surf lingo when used among surfers, but outside of our sub culture I find it brass and idiotic.  When the non-surfing use it I just feel insulted and outraged.  If I have to explain it you won’t understand anyway.

3. Worst Surf Trip  – Santa Barbara is the worst surf trip that I have ever took cause I have been stuck on it for the last five years.  Just kidding.  Truthfully I really can’t think of a bad surf trip.  Even the ones where the waves were awful I still managed to surf my brains out and have a great time.  A few years back I probably would have had a whole list for you.  These days as I look back over all my travels I am grateful for every single one.  Traveling is one of the most amazing things a person can do.  It is an amazing world out there with endless possibilities.  If surfing is the outlet one must use to get out there and see what there is to see then good on ya.  I know if I was not a surfer I most likely would not have went to half the places I have been.  These days most of the trips I take are non surfing trips and so are many of the ones I hope to some day take on.  I really want to go to Italy for a few months, back to my native country and see all the sights, eat the food, maybe even cook the food.  I want to see Stonehenge.  Bottom line there is no such thing as a bad trip except for the ones not taken.

4.  Vagrancy – I guess at one time I was classified as a vagrant and have definitely put up my share of them here in Lisanti Land.  I believe everyone ought to have a period of his/her life spent as a vagabond living by the seat of their pants, traveling from place to place on a wing and prayer with no destination in mind.  I did it for years and it was amazing.  At some point life catches up to you and then you to make a decision.  Believe me I have plenty of friends who were all former vagrants now living very stable lives.  Heck I am one of them.  Shit I just put 2gs into my apartment.  If that is not stable I don’t know what is.  Career vagrants and I do not get along.  I hate bums.  Quite frankly there are way to many of them here in the city of Santa Barbara.  I have a good mind to go sit down with the mayor ask her to deputize me, give me a van, a clan of Pinkertons and let me clean up the town.  No questions asked.  That is a whole different blog entirely.

These guys need to go. I pay too much money to live in this town to put up with their shit.

5. Garbage Can Books – I find more great books in the garbage then I buy.  Its rather alarming to me as a writer myself.  Here I am working on a master piece of a novel that I know is most likely to be thrown in the trash.  Its probably a terrible work, but my delusional ass likes to think it is good.  The other day I picked The Portrait of Dorian Grey, The Canterbury Tales, Tess of the d’urbervilles among other great titles from a trash pail.  It was shocking.   Books are all we have as a civilization.  You know what made us “civilized” and I use that term lightly considering my thoughts and beliefs on the human race, reading and writing.  If you finished a book and do not want it any more pass it along to someone else.  That is the best way to share a piece of yourself with others.  I always give my extended guests a book upon their entrance to the Lisanti Palace.  I try to tailor the selection to a work I feel will fit their character and current situation in life.  Sometimes I will use a work to teach a lesson of sorts.  For example when I was pretty sure my ex-girlfriend was cheating on me I gave her a copy of Gustav Flaubert’s Madam Bovary read.  If you do not understand why, read the book cause it is a beautiful tragic love story.

6. Alfie and the Dish Cloth – I am a bit of push over with my pets.  I hate being a disciplinarian especially with my pets.  Neither was my ex-wife.  As a result Alfie grew up with not the best manners.  More times then not during dinner hour he would have to be thrown off the table repeatedly.  Then when my drug addict roommate Nick was passing out all over the apartment (who by the way I am happy to say is in England going through rehab and hopefully cleaning up his life.  Nick I am proud of you man.  Stay on the course.  Your too good for that shit.) Alfie had free reign over all the food that was constantly getting left out or spilled.  Now before we go any further let me say I am not a fan of animal abuse and that I love my cat.  Please do not go calling the ASPCA on me.  One day after feeling a bit sad and then angry over the Adrienne situation I was eating dinner ALONE!  Alfie jumped up on the table and tried to grab my food.  I lost it snagged the dish cloth and rat tailed him.  I got him pretty good too.  So every time Alfie gets out of line all I have to do is pick up the dish cloth and begin to roll it and he bolts.  My dinner parties all run a ton smoother now.

7. Girls Destroying Clothing – I have had a startling amount of clothing ruined by women.  I cannot even tell you the number of button down shirts that I had all or most of the buttons ripped off in the heat of passion.  One in particular wrecked five of my best shirts.  I have had pants ruined because the zipper got torn off.  Fuck I know if tore off an expensive designer dress on some chick she would be pissed as hell about it.   I remove clothing in a sexy yet respectable manner.  I am not even going to get into the number of outfits I had ruined on me as a result of vomiting.  Ladies c’mon.  I know I am irresistible, but does my wardrobe have to suffer for it?

8. Best …Lost Moment – The company …lost has for the greater span of their life as a surf brand been known as anti surfers surf company.  In other words they full on touted the party hard, surf less, miss contests, cause trouble, derelict surf life style rather then the clean cut, mellow, guitar playing, life loving drug/alcohol free positive surfer portrayed by the majority of the industry.  As a result they built up a team of quite the group of characters and a following even worse.  Then they put out these series of films in the early 2000’s documenting and glorifying said lifestyle.  It was very entertaining and there were plenty of out of control moments.  Girls falling down flights of stairs, drunken stair surfing, Randal who was this bum they found living under the pier in Oceanside and paid in booze to allow the team to abuse.  He got his hair lit on fire on many occasion.  There were drunken fights, under age riders chugging pitchers of beers for $20, going over the falls at huge shore break Mexico in an inner tube, having a surfing dog burn some of the best pros at Lowers.  It was insane.  The best moment and I think the entire surf world is with me on is this one is this clip when pro surfer Strider pulled the g-string of some 15 year old girl on the beach in Mexico, called her a slut then jumped back in his jeep and drove away from “Whats really goin wrong”.

I could not find the clip, but this trailer gives a decent idea of what …lost was all about.  The side of surfing everyone knows exists, but don’t want to talk about.

9.  Covering Your Tracks –  This can go for anything in life, but in surfing it is about hiding either where your surfing or surfed to keep the crowds down.  For example in Cape Hatteras, NC the sand bars are constantly shifting.  A good bar can be around for a day or a week or so.  When such occurs initially it is uncrowded.  Then some one goes and tells his friend, who tells his friend, who tells his friend and so on and so forth.  Next thing you know the place is mobbed the next day.  To keep this from happening many of us like to park not right on the spot, drive cars that are not obvious surf cars, I have seen people go as far as hiding their cars behind dunes and then literally covering up the tire tracks.  I once told a buddy of mine I was surfing shitty blown out Ventura, all the while looking at perfect Loons with no one out.  I knew that guy had a big mouth and I was not about to tell him where I was so he could show up with ten bros.

1o. Animal Print – I am a sucker for animal print.  It drives me wild.  When I see a chick wearing any kind of animal print outfit I am immediately turned on.  It brings out our most primal of instincts.  For that reason my bedding has always contained some form of animal print.  Currently I am running with zebra print satin sheets.  Ohhhhh yeahhh, high class.  As I am writing this I have a leopard comforter around me from a former bed set.  Maybe that is why I have all my cloths torn off by women?

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When I was a kid Halloween was all about candy and costumes.  Then I became a teenager and it was all about mindless vandalism (for whatever reason it seems to be the one night a year where its ok to break shit).  Then I became an adult…well I use that term in the looses sense of the word.  More in terms as I am physically a full grown human.  Mentally I am anywhere between that of a bratty ten year old and a 15 year old.  I guess most males fit into that category.

Being older Halloween takes on its scariest of entities: Grown people in costumes getting completely shit faced.  Women put on the skimpiest little outfits or a tiny cocktail dress and some type of animal ears.  I am not complaining its all in good fun.  I have spent plenty of Halloweens in my adulthood being that sloppy guy in a cheap ass $15 plastic Kmart costume.  As a matter of fact I was that guy last night.

This year Halloween falls on a mother fucking Monday which means its a five night party and five different costumes. Over the next five days I will chronicle exactly what takes place on this lurk, well what I can remember from it of course.  Lets start with last night shall we?

Night One, College Costume Night at the Wild Cat

Kooky and I rolled out, him dressed as a red crayon and myself as Casanova, which was interpreted as either a vampire or a pirate.  I did not give a fuck.  I just wanted to an excuse to wear a cape. I liked it and it may become a regular thing for me.  Everyone thought Kooky was an orange crayon even though it clearly said the word “red” on the front of his costume.  On the way down some chicks yelled out the window “Dude your a fucking Cone, Whoooo, go cone!”.  That in itself set the tone for the evening.

Down town was packed as usual.  Halloween is sort of a big deal in this town.  Shit what excuse to get drunk and make a fool of yourself is not in Santa Barbara?  We had to wait on line for about thirty minutes, not bad considering.  There were these two basics in front of us who in my opinion looked no older then 16, but then again I am a bit older now and young looking twenty one year olds do look very callow to me at times. Lucky for us they bailed to go back to IV (no surprise there) allowing us to make the next twenty people in cut off.

Inside the usual Wild Cat insanity ensued.  I got piss drunk thanks to my bar hook up, did a bit of dancing and a bit of socializing.  We were hanging outside on the patio when this very attractive women came up to us.  I figured she was selling something.  There is no way a smoking hot chick is going to walk up to a guy dressed like a crayon and a pirate/Dracula looking guy other wise.  She asked me what I was drinking and I replied “Bacardi, what else”.  Turns out she was a promo Bacardi girl and impressed by the fact I was drinking a tall (little did she know it was more like half a bottle poured into a glass with a little coke for color) and hooked Kooky and I up with free Bacardi T-shirts.   Its about time those guys give me something back for all those handles I have consumed over the years.

It was a good evening but by one we found ourselves over it and decided to do the drunken stumble home.  about at the half way point we ran into this guy dressed as a Rastafarian across the street from us.  He looked at us and yelled “hey I’m not a Rasta, but a Mexican.  You guys want a bowl hit”.  Thinking I was going to get a smoke we walked over.  The dude pulls out a handful of weed and puts it in Kooky’s hand.  Then cruises on.  We got easily two eighths worth.  Then we ran into a Kiwi working the night clean up shift on SBCC’s campus and hooked him up with a fatty nug as well.  Got to share the wealth after all.  Upon getting home we packed it into an apple and smoked that shit.  All and all I would say it was a rather fun first night.

Halloween is always Alfie's favorite holiday.

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Back in 2001 the ASP world tour went down to a shortened season as a result of the horrible attacks of September 11th.  As a result two very important world tour events were canceled and CJ Hobgood took the world title.  Unfortunately for him although having the accolade of claiming a world title his name and accomplishment will always carry a little asterisk next to it indicated that it was not a full year and therefore maybe in the minds of some not a true victory.   I say fuck that CJ is the man and deserved that title no matter.

Usually (for those of you unfamiliar with the UCB) the spring quarter runs from April 1st to June 21nd.  This quarter being I completely dropped the ball, shit I only posted 11 blogs in all of June  (thank you for completely taking over my life FRS) I decided to extend it till July 1st and I made the first blog of the quarter worth double points.  Like I said before and I think if you have been a follower here you know how hard the spring quarter has been for me (if your lost read through the April and May archives).  Im not really going to compare it to a catastrophe like 9-11 was, even though I sort of  did.  But all things considered one could reason 2011 has been a bit crazy and somewhat tragic.

Then again back in January I was thinking how boring Lisanti Land had gotten and started feeling I was becoming a drone like the majority of the population.  Luckily for me that did not happen and I have been granted a “do over” in my life.  I have had three already and each time my life has gotten so much better because of it.  A person really close to me told me they were settling and it was killing her.  Maybe I was just settling too, because I just turned 30 this year, I dont really know.  All I do know is that the 5 year plan, and ten year plan are out the window in exchange for no plan at all.  That is how things used to work in Lisanti Land and life was just fine.  I do have a three year and a long term plan, but those are to be discussed in a later blog (don’t forget the novel is coming along very nicely and I am sure it could be a great work of literature).

Enough about me (damn Chris Lisanti is a narcissistic asshole.  Of course I am that is why I have a blog in the first place!).  Lets get down to our Spring UCB Quarter Winners Circle.  The king for the quarter till dethroned is a first timer, Nick the Kook.  Everyone who reads here regularly knows all about the antics of Nick the Kook and I do believe he is with out a doubt one of the most fun surfingruinedmylife.net personalities.  He takes the cake this quarter even if it will always carry the dreaded asterisk.  Kook at least you and CJ Hobgood can have something in common.  By the way, in case you did not already notice Nick the Kook has his own blog now StayWet.net feel free to check it out.  He promises you wont lose you teeth.  As far as he is concerned on the other hand he never knows how he made out the night before till he smiles in the mirror and gets a count of his pearly whites.

Winners Circle:

Nick the Kook: 4 points*
John Mauriello: 3 points
Kooky Kyle: 1 point

Thank you all for playing, and if did not submit any entries then all I have to say is that your blowing it.  Remember 1st prize is a self expense paid trip to Lisanti Land, which includes but is not limited to at least one crazy night at the Wild Cat.  Now who does not want that? Look how well Kooky made out with his first prize just back in march: Kooky Kyle Speaks Out.  Truth be told win or lose everyone has the opportunity to come hang out in Lisanti Land all they need do is ask.   Thanks again everyone for participating and the rest of you for reading and supporting my crazy whimsical fantasy land to which I reside.

Spring was tough for me, but I promise you the worst is over.  The rest of the summer we will have nothing but good times here at Surfingruinedmylife.net. Ok, Im sure there will be some crying, anger and ranting in there too.  According to my statistics it seems you folks like it when I am dealing with adversity more anyhow.

CJ Hoobgood, one of the best backhands in the business.

Your UCB King of the Quarter ladies and gentlemen.

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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