It's not the toothy monsters in the water
Or the rocks near the shore
That I worry about.
It's the toothless monsters
Throwing rocks on the shore
That really freak me out.
(Original drawing is a Foulweather 'Zine outtake...)
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17 comments:
I worry about those rocks near the shore. Perhaps you recall how my ass looked after I got bounced off of a few. I didn't walk right for almost 3 weeks!
From one firestorm to the next, eh bro?
yeah..iv'e had rocks thrown at me too. thought it was all talk..it's not, but you can sneak out there sometimes.
..also, u've inspired me to play around with micro paint at work..it's pretty fun, like co workers with horns.or whale attacks on sharks.
anon..turns out firestorms work out pretty well for bloggers.
Yep these firestorms may serve you well as an internet surfer but only make a larger target to hit. Be careful the coast is a small place and yes the locals can read.
So what you're saying is that because locals at this spot freak me out, that they will be more pissed at me for mentioning it? I'd say this is the kind of publicity that would be invited... Or is it because I'm revealing a secret? I won't tell where it is if you don't... Macbeth! Voldermort! Get it?
Locals can read? Thats a shock!! I grew up in LC and most the guys i grew up surfing with now smoke crack and work as bouncers at the big O tavern. Sound like a great life to me. Read on Read on,
Keep up the insults smart ass the target grows larger. There are dentists on the coast you know. You can only hide behind your firewall for so long.
Hiding in LC come on down. Bring your dentures. Look for the KooK on the yellow. SC
Nice try Sisyfish. Goodnight faka.
LC is below already.... directionally challenged? Or a slip up Anon could be you izz down south? Whatsa a yeller SC anyway?
Sorry about my last comment if it was slightly combative... A bottle of wine last night and a crappy performance by the Lakers got me riled up.
The whole idea was: "What's the point of surfing a place with so many obstacles?" Definitely not an advertisement. And anybody offended by this stupid poem is insinuating that they are the type of person who throws rocks. Not nice.
I'm also starting to wonder why even allow Anonymous comments on here. At least you could be creative like "rocky" and come up with a cool/appropriate name before piling on.
that is so great!
I was amused to come upon this thread immediately after having dinner with a long-lost friend from Oregon. She shared a couple stories. Her grandparents, in their upper 80s, are pillar-of-the-community types around Warrenton, Gearhart and YouKnowWhere. Shit is named after them. They recently bought a condo near the Arcade and Cotton Candy districts in downtown YouKnowWhere. It’s close to everything, which is nice for Grandpa, who relies on a Rascal to get around.
Well, during a recent visit to YouKnowWhere, our friend joined Grandpa on a walk/roll. Before they were out of sight — an 89-year-old’s sight — of the condo, they witnessed a shady transaction right out in the open. The seller, in his early teens, was on a bike, the buyer on a skateboard. I suppose it could happen anywhere. Like YouKnowWhere — again, about a minute later. With different kids. On different vehicles.
Maybe they were just doing like we 14-year-olds did in Seattle 20-something years ago, scrounging enough cash for an eighth, then parting it out for a small profit. But the way she told it, these kids seemed really businesslike.
Our friend’s sister, a humanitarian at heart, taught high school in YouKnowWhere for a while. The tweaker culture even at that age nearly broke her spirit.
YouKnowWhere is a weird little town. Aside than Fullers, it’s the only place I’ve been harassed simply for being there. A gang of locals, four-strong, repelled my greeting — “I don’t know. How is IT going?” — and spit chaw on my car tire. Haha. Since that encounter, I’ve made it a, cough, point to surf there every time I pass through, which is fairly often. Good waves.
Can you imagine throwing rocks at a stranger? It's hard to fathom, even for a misanthrope.
Thanks Maggie: I'm a big fan of your photos...
Thanks Porky: I'm a big fan of the photo of you with a giant gash on your head...
Chum: I hope the point guardians tag your ride with the three dreaded words Porky once found waxed onto his Isuzu P’up: "Big Hairy Pussy."
That would be appropriate, if they saw me changing out of my wetsuit.
If you insist on using the tweaker parking lot on the point, maybe you should consider incorporating a towel into your changing ritual — or, at the very least, refraining from the overly friendly chat while going towel-free. Not everybody likes that.
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