After another day of dealing with the reality that years of work have been for nothing, I set off down the coast with my buddy "Yellow-Wool," with a shred of hope that there would actually be waves worth a shredfest. Of course those of you who live in or adjacent to the curtain, understand that are left lady can only handle about 3 feet before she throws a fit (Sorry, running from the point here). We settle in on the river which at the very least has a few small sliders, and being equipped with a Simmons, it looked worthwhile. The duo saddled up and we walked on down the hall.
Pure and simple, it was fun. There happened to be a consistent left on the inside that had a bit more push and nobody on it! After some chuckles and pirate banter, a few shiny haired manchildesses paddle out on there polished cock rockets with the smile of a tight-assed new fish in Folsom. Right away I get the super maddog, and then here the usual, "Hey Ron, hey Bill, hey dicklick, hey secret crush!" All the "Boys," you know Da Kine Brah. Oh......wait we are not at FUCKING PIPE, this is a three foot mush ball and your on a potato chip! Of course I am on a now lame, last year, old news, "Retro Board." I forgot dude. Transworld, Surfer, and Surfing all have announced that the retro thing is so dead, and I mean really, how are all of us going to make it to the heights of our surfing aspirations if we don't have a thruster.
To top it off, we also have Mr. Hip, styling along with the intensity of an eagle, to hide the little girl inside. Even better than the Bro concerto is the art dick. Yeah we all fucking paint, and play music, and drive old cars, and smoke home rolled, and watch documentaries that usually blow, and jerk each other off, and.......etc. I mean really dude, "I don't even care man." (Add intense but jaded look away stare while speaking). Yeah I know you fight the man by living with your parents, and I know that the Growlers are so hip. I've read all those books and tunes, and am past the, "REVolution will not be televised" stage. (P.S. wait till you find out that revolution and fighting the establishment actually take work instead of a sing-in or art show......... douche).
Oh, the waves were really fun. I mean we had the peak to ourselves, warm water, and good chats.
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