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Posts Tagged ‘lurk’


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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Well this morning we have a very special UCB for all you little kiddies out there in cyber world.  John Mauriello wins this week or I guess it really should have been last week, but I dont really give a fuck cause its my shitty ass blog and I will do what I want to.  Anyway he asked about my new found passion for lurking.  Sure he posted it about a month ago, but it was very appropriate to the situation.  If this is a bit incoherent it is because I have a little bit of the bad medicine in me (rum).

I think first off I will start with the dictionary meaning for lurking and it reads as such: ” to lie or wait in concealment, as a person in ambush; remain in or around a place secretly or furtively”.  If that is what dictionary lurking is let me explain what Lisanti lurking is. Its really grand and super classy.  It also follows the same principles as the above definition.

Lurking is the derogatory name I deem to going out to the bar, club, party or any place for that matter with the sole purpose to pick up a chick and fuck her.  After which you will never see her again and most likely never even have gotten her name.  Don’t you know that is the best way to interact with your fellow humans of the opposite sex, especially ones you should be looking to pair up with and spend the rest of your life with.  At least in the animal kingdom the male just flat out rapes the female and gets it over with.

No, as humans we find ourselves more then superior to our four legged foes.  Instead we use our cunning intelligence to out smart the female using a combination of looks, intelligence and of course alcohol to achieve such desired results.  In all respect the female does the same.  Fuck she is probably a more ruthless predator then a man.  At least men are for the most part obvious about their intentions.  Women on the other hand act all innocent, nice and decent.  Then once you give them your heart they turn around and fuck you over.  That is because every last one of them is nothing more then a filthy stinking whore.  Fellow males out there if you have a girlfriend, fiance,  or wife and think she is happy guess again.  If she has not fucked some guy behind your back yet, well she probably will later.  Especially if you treat her well.

Here is how a lurk works.  I get dressed up in my best cloths and I go out to the bar.  Immediately upon entering I case the place out to see what talent lies with in.  Then I figure out the game plan that will work best for me to prey on some unsuspecting female counter part.  End goal: to get her back to my place where I can hopefully objectify her by fucking the shit out her all night with out ever getting her name or caring to learn a thing about her. If I can get her out of my house in time for a mid day surf  and never see or hear from her again even better.

How is that achieved, by saying and doing whatever it takes to make it happen.  Your kind of a con-artist.  If you have a good wing man then you most likely have an entire repertoire down.  It is like when lions hunt they pick out the weakest zebra in the heard coax it out and then nab it.  When you lurk you find your mark and basically do the same with out the eating alive part, unless your some kind of psycho killer.

Yeah I claim to be a gentleman, but I guess that is a load of bull shit!  I’m just a mother fucking scum bag like every one else out there trying to get mine before it gets me.  Except there is one catch I don’t lurk anymore.  I cant lurk anymore.  As a matter of fact it makes me nauseous even to think about such a thing.  I find that to be a funny fact because I used to thrive on such an act.

No, I think I’m fucking done.  I had my time and it passed.  I don’t want to lurk.  I don’t want to drink.  I don’t want to feel terrible anymore.  I’m tired and I wish my time here would end.  For some reason I cant die.  Believe me I have tried and wished, but here I am still breathing air.  I can not take my own life cause that would be too simple, but why cant I have peace?  Do I not deserve serenity.   I am exasperated with jumping through hoops.  Maybe I will just move up into the pacific northwest in the hills and become a recluse.

I have had everything I could ever have wanted in life already.  Then I lost it.  I don’t want anything else.  Why can’t you see how wrong this life is that you created for us.  I know your not happy. Stop lying to yourself and be what you always told me you were. My faith in humanity was small when I met you and now after it has diminished even more.  Fuck everyone.  I’m over  all of you and your shit.  Stop laughing at me cause its not funny.  It never has been.  While you laugh I cry.  Thats how its been my whole life.

What the fuck more do you want from me?  What more do I have to prove? How much more suffering should I have to endure?

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