Get: “I have Billabong contract” look!

Are you tired of looking like an average joe? Well follow these simple steps to look like a pro!

To become a professional surfer you’ve got to be the best of the best. You’ve got to put your time in, press your shoulder against the wheel, duck dive, shred, spray, dawn patrol, evening glass, surf, surf, surf, surf, surf. No exceptions.

……Well maybe one exception. Let’s read about it in Elle!

The ropey matte waves worn by pro surfers like Laura Enever and Felicity Palmateer do notcome from a curling iron—they’re earned in the ocean. While some stylists will tell you it’s not possible to re-create the look on land, with a bit of salt spray and a lot of diffuser action, you too can pass for someone with a Billabong contract.

Start by misting wet hair with John Frieda Beach Blonde Sea Waves Sea Salt Spray (it’s for non-blondes, too), and then twist varying sections away from the face. No time to air dry? This is where your diffuser comes in handy. Flip your hair over and hit wet ends from the bottom, working your way up until waves are 80 percent dry. Finish with another salt spray mist. And get totally stoked, because you’ve just mastered the no-surf surf wave.

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Have you mastered the no-surf surf wave? And I thought the “Billabong contract” look was a touch more, how do I say, provincial? A smidge more, let’s see, windshield sunglasses and flat brimmed hat and inner bicep tattoo?

A gold medal run!
A gold medal run!

Lowell Taub and the worst week ever!

Did you have a rough week? Not as rough as this! Gold medal bad!

Imagine, for a few moments, that you are Mr. Lowell Taub. An ex-ski racer. A sports agent to the stars! Your roster includes the likes of ski legend Bodie Miller and skateboarding prodigy Nyjah Huston. Life is so good. Very good. All you have to do is pick up the phone and deals come rolling in.

“Mr. Taub! Budweiser beer here…say, we really love that Bodie Miller fella. Can we give him a million dollars please?”

“Mr. Taub! Monster Energy on the horn… Whitney Houston is the voice of her generation….. wait. Nyjah. Nyjah Huston has the look the kids love. A million dollars?”

You sit back in your ergonomically superior chair and say, “How ’bout two million?”

Oh it’s child’s play!

And it don’t end with Bodie and Nyjah. You’ve got snowboard icon Shaun White and swimming’s most eligible gold medalist Ryan Lochte.

Wait! Shaun White AND Ryan Lochte?

Oh hell! You just had the WORST WEEK EVER!

Let us revisit. You woke up on Tuesday after a fun extended weekend and there is Shaun all over TMZ and Deadspin for showing penis pics to the drummer of his band, making her watch dead bear porn and telling cab drivers that they “suck dick for a living!”

Definitely not an easy spin. “My client was… ummm… uhhhhhh… joking.”

Then, two days later while sorting through the various penis pics Shaun sent over, your Ryan Lochte gets busted for bald-faced lying about being tougher than his friends while getting robbed at gunpoint in Rio!

An even harder spin! “My client was… I think… ummmmmmmmmmm… joking.”

The weekend cannot come fast enough.


Video: Surfin’ in the DPRK!

Close the Surfer Poll....we have our winner!

Ok…and ok…and ok. Maybe I missed this. Did I miss this? I must have because there is no way this hasn’t come out in the surf media. Did it already appear on The Inertia? As an advertisement for a hot new workout? As a new market for chia yogurt goodness?

Is StabStitch using it to sell its artificial anti-shark pseudo-science to unsuspecting kids for $200 a pop? To fund massive operating losses born of a perpetual 70% sale on all soft goods? Is Kim Jong-Un partnering with Lex Pedersen to paint all surf the same color of paranoid yet autocratic beige? Wait…is Lex the one still there? Or the other one? The blonde one? Who likes….. oh never mind.

But anyway for sure it has come out. Right? In case I missed it and you’ve already seen… as you were.

But if not WOW!

Just WOW!

Gawker, which is going out of business next week beating StabStitch by three weeks, writes:

A popular Youtuber named Louis Cole, whose channel has nearly 2 million subscriptions, ended his trip to North Korea by creating a music video called “Sufin In The DPRK.” This isn’t some biting political commentary that touches on the atrocities carried out by the North Korean dictatorship, but rather a fun, lighthearted video about “bringing our wold together.”

Cole has already been hit with criticism for the lighthearted and intellectually dishonest “adventure videos” he’s posted on YouTube while on his state-organized tour of North Korea. In one video description, Cole writes “I’m trying to focus on positive things in the country and combat the purely negative image we see in the Media.”

For whatever reason, Cole doesn’t seem to realize that his tour of North Korea, just like all other tours of the country, is staged and set up to appear as if the country is thriving and prosperous. Cole seems to think that by not mentioning these atrocities, or the hunger ravaging the country, and by making a cheery video hanging out with his new North Korean friends, that he’ll be able to help bridge some global divide. That, of course, is delusional—but we hope Cole enjoys the YouTube ad revenue!


And you are welcome The Inertia and StabStitch. You can both use this to sell your chia/suable anti-shark tech.

Lie! And pretend to be tough!
Lie! And pretend to be tough!

Dear Brazil: Obrigado the most!

American swimmer Ryan Lochte's wonderful account of being super tough is apparently not true!

Did you read American swimmer Ryan Lochte’s wonderful account of getting robbed at gunpoint with his three swimmer friends just days ago?

The best!

He said, in his toughest Clint Eastwood:

“We got pulled over, in the taxi, and these guys came out with a badge, a police badge, no lights, no nothing just a police badge and they pulled us over,” Lochte said. “They pulled out their guns, they told the other swimmers to get down on the ground — they got down on the ground. I refused, I was like we didn’t do anything wrong, so — I’m not getting down on the ground.

“And then the guy pulled out his gun, he cocked it, put it to my forehead and he said, “Get down,” and I put my hands up, I was like ‘whatever.’ He took our money, he took my wallet — he left my cell phone, he left my credentials.”

But then did you read how it was all basically fabricated? Multiple news sources have pointed to the swimmers and Lochte as being drunk, belligerent and destructive. They were dealt with then claimed they were robbed with Lochte claiming he was very tough and cool. “I was like ‘whatever.'”

The way best!

And we only have Brazil to thank for, first, theoretically robbing a tool and, second, having this incident of false bravado haunt him for the rest of his life.

“I was like ‘whatever!'”

The man will never work in this town again!

P.S. This has to do with surfing in the same way Shaun White has to do with surfing…. Brazil!


Parker: “This just happened!”

Latest dispatch from Nicaragua. Convinces gorgeous girl to maybe three-way with wife!

Gorgeous girl. Aussie/Singaporean hapa. Too good for us.

Couldn’t believe she said, “Sure. Why not?”

Romantic dinner at El Timon. Top notch seafood. Toñas flowing. Lobster all around. Great company. Some sort of spark. Couldn’t believe my eyes.

Wife invites her with us on the next leg. Drop what you’re doing. See you in the morning. We’ve got a suite lined up. Plenty of room for all.

Yes yes yes. She’s in. She’s coming. I’ll meet you tomorrow. Head down together.

Are you on Facebook? Let’s link up.

Why not? My last name is Parker. No idea what title Derek tossed on my last dispatch. Logged in to see, I’m a Sexual Predator.

Damn it. Not untrue. Don’t really mind. Not the best second impression. No way she’s showing.

Sipping cafe con leche, ready for check out. Up she strolls. “Am I still invited?”

Unforeseen consequence, she draws horny boys like flies to shit. Didn’t expect that. Want to bark and bark and bark. Stay away. Mine mine mine. Not an appropriate reaction. Real turn off. Just let them ramble, compete. No matter, she comes home with us.

Hot damn yes. Turns out she didn’t see it. Eventually did. “It’s just schtick. I swear.”

She’s not scratching the itch. Too comfortable. We get along too well. I didn’t make it weird enough. Intelligent, funny. Unbelievably good looking. My exposed skin makes me uncomfortable. Shameful what I’ve become. Strive to exude confidence. Women aren’t as shallow as men.

Is what I tell myself. A mantra.

Unforeseen consequence, she draws horny boys like flies to shit. Didn’t expect that. Want to bark and bark and bark. Stay away. Mine mine mine. Not an appropriate reaction. Real turn off. Just let them ramble, compete. No matter, she comes home with us.

Surf is flat. Equatorial sun is baking my mind. Sucking down water as fast as I can. Competing with what pours from my pores.

But the hotel has cold a/c. Retreat from the midday heat. Regroup. Spent the morning helping a surf camp’s new hires get their boat started. We failed. Engines are an indecipherable mystery. The battery is dead. Will one from a car work?

Apparently not.

Wasted Italian tourists are a scourge. Worst group on Earth. Americans’ reps are deserved, if inflated. Mouthy WOP mangling english. Struggling to roll a cigarette while spraying tobacco across our table. Eyes our new friend. Gives it a shot.

“You are very pretty. You come drink with us?”

She asks him if I can fuck his ass.

Confused, thinks he misunderstood. He did not. Declines. She calls him a coward.

Special kind of gal. Right up our alley. Kismet.