What guys who don't surf much do in their spare time. Besides blogging.

For those who don't know, there's a colossal circle jerk online called the Oregon Surf Pages (mentioned in this video) where a bunch of doods sit around bragging about how "sick" the surf was yesterday and dissing anything that isn't wrapped in buffalo check flannel and Carharts. Rumor has it that a couple of the wannabe bro-brahs that hang there actually do other kinds of surfing than the internet variety.

But even the Pacific Gyre has a gem floating in it once in a while. Someone told me about this video and I had to actually brave the high fecal chloroform levels there to check it. I'm glad I did.

By the way, I think the bespectacled guy in this video might be partially based on yours truly. I love Mollusk and all kinds of impractical equipment... but I don't wear horn rims.

Mexican Blooper Fiesta

So here I am, still posting about Mexico because, frankly, I have no other material. Above is one of my many attempts to squeeze into a tiny toob. Hey, I may be wearing a lip sombrero, but my arm got totally shacked and my hand is still claiming it.

Stop, drop, and roll.

Our housekeeper hid the key to the front door, then left a big note on the front door telling us where the key was. Under the mat.

Oops. She wasn't going to make the section... uh... yeah. This serves a a permanent reminder not to get pissed when people accidentally drop in on me. The expression on her face says it all: "Oh no he di-in't!" Trust me, her wave count was still higher than anyone else out that day. My most embarrassing shot ever.

We drove about 50 miles and when we got out of our car, realized that the back straps had come undone on our boards. This is how we found them...

The "O" face.

Where Do Wetsuit Farts Come From?

Funny you should ask! Come on over, son, and sit on my knee. Pull my finger and I'll tell you a tale...

According to extensive scientific research involving garden hoses and gas masks, wetsuit farts occur when the airborne petroleum molecules contained in neoprene are "inhaled" into a surfers rectum during a session. If the surf is particularly hairy, more of this "neo-steam" intake occurs, due to increased tightening of the sphincter muscles.

This noxious gas, as denoted by the green clouds in the diagram above, is held in the colon and lower intestine for an hour or two until expulsion occurs later in the day. The resulting flatulance--or "farts," to the layman--have a distinctive rubbery odor that reminds the surfer and anyone else within whiffing distance of his morning go-out.

Tune in next week kids, when delayed sinus drainage is explained in, "Is There an Ocean Up My Nose?"

Toyz for Toobz

Today I uncovered an amazing subculture on youtoob: videos of remote control surfers. Brocrastinating (as usual), I pushed the play button and my jaw dropped. Part of me wonders if the video is fake, part of me wonders how a stupid plastic toy can surf so well, and the other part ponders if music can be any more "farfengroovin" than the soundtrack provided by "Natural Aphrodisiac." At any rate, this could be may fastest route to getting a spitting barrel, if my progression as a surfer continues to skid like it has this winter!

Red House Painters - Revelation Big Sur