Mason Ho Rip Curl

Movie: Mason Ho Acid Drops Iceberg!

The Search is Hot Tits. Always has been. Always will be… 

Yesterday I wrote about how I dream of taking Mason Ho on a cold-water trip. About how I’d make sure he was protected from the elements, feed hit hot cocoa. Snuggle fight to get through the night.

In the meadow we could build a snowman…

Today I found out that Rip Curl stole my idea. I don’t know how they did it. Probably have access to a time machine or something. Rest assured, I’m pissed about it. One frivolous lawsuit coming right up!

It’s exactly as magical as I thought it would be. Straight out of the car and Mason is rolling in the snow. Scampering around like a baby ewok on its birthday. All smiles, so amped. Nothing jaded or broken in his heart.

Footage of Mason triggers the same serotonin dump as a box of puppies. It’s only a matter of time until they start prescribing him as a cure for depression.

The surfing is okay. Both guys are obviously restricted by the foot thick rubber suits. They rip it up, and all that, but I’ve seen better from both. No big deal, the high perf footage is a secondary concern.

Watching Mason acid drop off a hunk of ice into a wave caused by a calving iceberg is one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen. Looks painful. Between that and his shallow reef madness the kid has gotta be covered in the bruise patterns of a committed alcoholic.

It’s not all perfect. Too much Mick. He holds down the lead role, but doesn’t do much with it. While Mason is laughing it up Mick keeps his demeanor pretty cold. Like he’s been here before. He probably has.

But, like, what kind of monster goes on a trip with Mason and doesn’t have a single tickle fight?

Comfortably Numb is another solid effort from Rip Curl. The company has done amazing things over the years. The Search is hot tits. Always has been. Always will be.

But I can’t let the slave labor thing go. Too horrible. Not something that should be swept under the rug. Even if accidental, there are amends to be made. An apology is not enough.

Which sucks for me, because it ruins something I’ve always enjoyed. Not that I wear Rip Curl products, but I have always liked their videos. They’re one of the reasons Mason gets to do his deal instead of work some shitty job to make ends meet.

But none of that makes up for the heinous act they committed. Using slaves is not akin to releasing a sub par product. It is pure evil. You cannot lay claim to decency while “accidentally” contracting production to someone who keeps humans as chattel.

Celebrate: We’re rich beyond our dreams!

Pass the sherry, ol' chum!

Do you ever feel like the man has got his boot on your neck? That you are slaving away at a job you loathe in order to pay bills that you just can’t get ahead of? That it is more and more difficult to keep mouths fed? That there is just no hope? No way to move forward?

Of course not! You, ol’ chum, are a surfer!

And a new study by two Oxford economists, published in Forbes, details the value of waves and how much we pay for them. Shall we read a section ol’ chum?

Waves, it turns out, are no drop in the ocean. High-quality waves, the authors estimate, generate economic activity worth $50 billion per year globally. That’s around $20m every year for each place with good surf. And when surfers discover a great new spot, economic growth in the area can rise by up to three percentage points for the next five years. Good waves also help turn the tide of rural poverty by encouraging the poor to stream into towns to join the surfing economy.

Ol’ chum? Are you still reading or have you retired to the bridge room? Cribbage? Are you drinking the Domaine de la Romanee-Conti or the Domaine Leflaive Montrachet? The Chateau Lafite?

Good choice, ol’ chum!

Gimme: An enemy to love!

Can someone help me bring the fun back? The fire? Please?

I’ve got nothing, bro. Nothing, dude. Nothing. At. All. I’ve wandered this desert, this jujube we call “surf” for the better part of my life looking for a proper enemy. A soul with whom I can regularly cross swords like Mercutio and Tybalt, like Hirohito and General MacArthur and and nothing. NOTHING!

I’ve tried to draw WSL CEO Paul Speaker out but he refuses to be engaged. He is a computer wearing an asshat. An inhuman turd. A square-jawed, corn fed, non-surfing kook who doesn’t know the first thing about Mercutio. I mean barrels. CEO Paul Speaker? Are you reading? My offer still stands, I’ve decided. One interview and the abuse stops. But now it has to be on camera and an episode of our wonderful Like Bitchin! series (subscribe today!)

Mick Fanning was funny for a second and almost became perfect when he went and cried to the real press about being offended because he called me names. Let’s remember!

Prior to the exchange with the reporter, I had refused to speak with him because I understood he worked for Stab magazine and that it had previously published articles which I believed were racist and anti-Semitic. I strongly object to views, statements and comments of that nature. I acknowledge that my decision to use words that were inappropriate – albeit in an attempt to be ironic, knowing they were of the type favoured by the magazine – was misjudged and wrong.

And ha! The worst press release in history (pre-Trump)! And the start of a real, beautiful rivalry. And then he went off and got brushed by a shark and became a global hero and adored icon even winning my undying admiration.

The Inertia continues to double down on milquetoast. Is there anything more mouth-spewingly bland than Zach Weisberg’s blend of chia seed, yoga, ill-begotten humor and listicle? Bland and not up for any sort of fight, obvs.

Stab is a shell, Vissla succeeded and wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought, Brazil excites in its over-excitement and Matt Warshaw is a dear friend.


Where? Tell me, where can I find somebody to love? I mean hate?


Mason Ho
Mason's appeal is how well he conveys pure stoke. Chips through my jaded heart. Reminds me of younger years when this was all I wanted. Be a pro surfer, hang out with rippers. Spend my days shredding with the best. Not really how things work, but it's the dream. The one they sell, the one people buy. The one I don't really want anymore but still kinda do, somewhere deep down inside of cynical piece of shit I've become.

Movie: Midnight Boners & Mason Ho!

Sparkle Eyes really vibes like he'd be a killer snuggle monster.

The Padang Cup event was very good, but it did drag a little. Building swell, tide complications. The brilliant moments were just that, but with some rounds featuring a half-hour wait between waves it got a tad boring.

Perfect for a highlight video. Boil the day down to its concentrated best, add a dash of Mason Ho, and you’ve got yourself a tasty dish. Yum yum yum. Eat it right up.

Mason’s appeal is how well he conveys pure stoke. Chips through my jaded heart. Reminds me of younger years when this was all I wanted. Be a pro surfer, hang out with rippers. Spend my days shredding with the best. Not really how things work, but it’s the dream. The one they sell, the one people buy. The one I don’t really want anymore but still kinda do, somewhere deep down inside of cynical piece of shit I’ve become.

If BeachGrit ever starts making real money I’d love to see about getting Mason on a trip with us. Go to Alaska, or somewhere else really cold. Do a full soul-bro cold weather camping trip. Look at us, we’re the Malloys!

I’d make sure he was bundled up against the cold. Bring him hot cocoa to warm his tummy.

I’d “forget” to bring enough sleeping bags. We’d be forced to share body heat to survive the night. Cuddle up so good. Not in a sexual way or anything. But Sparkle Eyes really vibes like he’d be a killer snuggle monster.

There’d be some nighttime boners, but that’s perfectly natural. Just something your body does. Don’t be ashamed.

As far as the footage… a chopped and distilled run of footage from the official stream would have been good enough for government work. I’d’ve watched it. Enjoyed it. Praised it a bit but not really because it didn’t bring anything new.

This is another story. Adds so much spice. We’ve got the channel cam angle, sadly missing from the stream. Gives you a glimpse of that bucking bronco foam ball insanity. So so so so so so good! Cliff-top view almost makes it looks easy. Staring down the throat of heaving barrels makes it very clear how much skill it takes to do this shit.

Drone angle makes an appearance. I hate those fucking things. Trying to surf while one hovers over the lineup is like trying to read a book with a leaf blower firing upside your head.

But it looks so cool. I enjoy watching stuff filmed from drones. Just don’t like it when they intrude on my scene. Some kind of NIMBY shit, for sure.

Music choice is appropriate. Fun guitar jamming away. Doesn’t hurt your ears. Doesn’t distract from the images. Good good good.

In the end this video is the same as every other one featuring Mason Ho. It’s totally fucking awesome and I absolutely love it and it makes me gush like the fan boy I am.


Revival: Surf style becoming “nostalgic!”

"Because if there’s one thing millennials have proven they love, it’s a throwback to a trend of their childhood!"

I am finally out of Big Sur and back to wifi and back to life! The Olympics have started, I see, and Dane and his love Courtney tied the knot!

It is a very good thing to get married, in my opinion, as opposed to living as boyfriend and girlfriend for multiple years. It shows that a man and a woman are not chicken. That they are not afraid to attach ancient structures to their soaring love. Good for Dane! Good for Courtney! And may they be happy forever!

Speaking of happy forever, have you seen those smiling faces in Rio? Remember, just yesterday, when everyone in the world said the Games were going to be a horrible failure? That pollution and Zika and armed robbery and Brazilians? Well everyone in the world is eating crow off a giant churrasco spit right now!


And surfing will be dancing in the glow of Tokyo success in just four years. Certainly there will be fears of nuclear contamination, the rising spectre of Japanese nationalism, corruption, etc. etc. beforehand but that’s cuz people are haterz, dog.

In any case, the Hollywood Reporter wrote that surfing’s inclusion in the Olympics might create a revival among the youth for vintage surf fashions. Let’s read!

Nowadays — in the era of Brandy Melville obsession and athleisure empires — many surf brands have fallen off the style radar. Both PacSun and Quiksilver filed for bankruptcy in the past year, signaling a decline in interest among Gen Z shoppers.

But several world-ranked surfers are still sponsored by companies of yore, including VonZipper, Volcom, Oakley, Hurley, Lost and Etnies, leading us to wonder if their moment in the spotlight could translate into a nostalgic resurrection of that early aughts style. Because if there’s one thing millennials have proven they love, it’s a throwback to a trend of their childhood. (See: the Gilmore Girls revival, chokers, Pokemon Go.)

If the Instagram accounts of athletes like Matt Wilkinson (ranked No.1 by the World Surf League, men’s) and Tyler Wright (ranked No.1 by the World Surf League, women’s) are any indication, surf wear is surviving, thanks in no small part to free apparel from sponsors like Roxy and Rip Curl.

Do you think the brands love being referred to as “companies of yore?” Do you think they think of themselves as purveyors of an “early aughts style?”

I think maybe yes!

Or if no they should!

A massive financial windfall just around the corner for those who can hold on by the fingernails! For those that can recapture the magic of millennial childhoods!

Also, can you help real quick? What on earth does that last sentence mean? Surf wear is surviving thanks to free apparel from sponsors? Does it mean that without giving clothing away the brands would all be dead?


I get it.


Maybe accurate.