Tuesday, August 11, 2009

The End

In the tradition of the great Fluxus artists, Yoko Ono, John Cage, Terry Riley, George Brecht... I must move on to something else, oh and blogging is gay. It's not quite as gay as surfing or surfers, but it's up there.

While beards, flannels, and Rainbow Sandals are mellow, they won't actually make you mellow. They're just cozy, comfort clothes that keep ladies from seeing our averaged-sized peni. You can own every color Zig-Zag (actually called winos) shoe known to man, work for Vice (biggest jock bullies ever), be friends with Thomas Campbell, wear cut-off levi for surf trunks, scribble on your board, have a "rock band", but deep down inside you're still standing around the quad throwing shit at the less-cool kids and hoping daddy will love you. Go buy that Volcom hat you've been secretly eyeing, turn up the bill and spray a kook, like you know you've been dying to. It's natural, it's what you we destined to do. This Mollusk, Malloy, fixed-gear charade has got to be killing you. Scream faggot, it's okay, you were born for this. This applies to all action sports fanatics; surfers, skater, and snowboarder -- rollerbladers you're alright with me, roll on...

In closing, I would like to thank all the creeps who think they're not jocks because a well meaning friend made them listen to Morrissey, Magnetic Fields, and a couple of other legitimately, gay in a good way bands, for ruining my renewed interest in surfing. Cigars are just cigars and you my friends are jocks if there ever were one's. Californian rednecks from Malibu to Imperial Beach. There have alway been a few misfits like George Greenough but it's always been a macho man's game. If you want to really honest with yourself Mickey Dora was a piece of shit for certain...

In this archive there is a little beauty but mostly pain. It was an act of futility, an attempt for me to recapture the spirit of California in 1979. Perhaps it's still possible to catch that vibe somewhere further down the line. Oregon?

It's the players, not the game. The game is too beautiful for words.


The End.

Thursday, January 1, 2009

Fish On The Brain

I guess I've been staring too long at the myriad twin fin and quad fish available right now. Not that It would be financially wise to purchase another board right now but man cannot live on hull and log alone. Here are the front runners.












Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Yes it's been 3 months since I last blogged

I offer no excuses. In the words of the great poet warrior Jeff Spicoli, "I just couldn't make it". I've been grinding the gears instead of shifting them, alas, I shall return.

Friday, September 19, 2008

Rock Of '81

Strange year, my head's still spinning... So much from '81, maybe my new blog. It's interesting to note that Leonard Cohen did not release an album this year, and conversly Bob Dylan released his 21st studio album, Shot of Love. Not my favorite but I do love Heart of Mine.


Billy Squier - In The Dark


Devo - Gates of Steel



Cheap Trick - She's Tight



Phil Seymour - Precious To Me



David Bowie - Boys Keep Swingin'



F.R. David - Words



Abba - Supertrouper



Echo and the Bunnymen - Heads Will Roll



Kraftwerk - Computerworld



Air Supply - Making Love Out Of Nothing At All



Van Halen - Unchained



Hall and Oates - Kiss On My List




Genesis - No Reply At All



The Jam - Absolute Beginners



The Dream Syndicate - Tell Me When It's Over ( more like '82)

Sandinista

A young actress/singer once comment "you rant and curse...". Yes, this is absolutely correct. Isn't it time to rant and curse? Polite liberality fails to muster any sincere outrage, effect, or revolution. There's nothing scary about Liberals. We are no threat to anything -- perhaps the closure of the local Starbucks or Barnes & Nobles would send us into the streets. I am hostile about the state of politics, religion, the economy, censorship, and bad art. The right-wing nut jobs who shoot doctors would be less apt to do so if we shot back. Buy a gun, learn to use it, customize it with beautiful colored drawings, keep it under your bed, blog about it -- then we'll see which party's suddenly for gun control. Arm the Liberals, start eating at Outback Steakhouse (demand tempeh or meat substitute), drive a big truck (bio fuel), show your tits, get into the WWF, shop at Costco, audition for a reality show TV!!! Let's invade the malls. Do some donuts on your neighbors lawn (with your fixed gear or women's 3-speed). Lets get agro too, but in a cool way.
So, to the NRA supporters (read christians) who will paraphrase and miss quote Thomas Jefferson's thoughts on the revolutionary war, the Boston Massacre, raising an armed militia to defend the country from a tyrannical, insane monarch, and the 2nd amendment at the drop of a hat, it's my turn; 

"I do not find in orthodox Christianity one redeeming feature" -- Thomas Jefferson

And to my Liberal brethren I say; stop complaining and go vote you pussies. You want a new iPhone because your old one is crummy and your temp job doesn't pay enough? Too broke to buy tickets for Cat Power? Teeth hurt? Doctor bills? Amazon stock tanking? Volvo need a new set of Pirellis? Vote Vote Vote





Belle and Sebastian - Le Pastie De La Bourgeoisie


Sunday, September 14, 2008

No Quarter

I saw this around the corner from my house yesterday. ever draw this on a Pee-Chee folder?



Saturday, September 13, 2008

I Aim That Bike At The Fat Pothole Beyond That Underpass

Strangely, I keep acquiring pictures of this man texting, or what have you. It's similar to those people whose have houses that leak goo out of the walls or ceilings in the shape of Jesus or Mary. Well, every time I import photos from my iPhone I seem to have a couple shots of this mysterious, young man and his iPhone -- I even found one on the interweb today??




 I got a series of haircut's the other day, two of them were bad, one was good. Stacey and Conor thought a few snap shots were in order, I did not, but was up for a laugh in the end. I think I look like Conor's intellectually disabled friend, or perhaps he's my volunteer "big brother".