Just in: Too dangerous for Red Bull!

What keeps Austria awake at night? (Hint: It's not caffeine!)

Your favorite energy drink company lives life on the very edge. Wingsuiting, race car driving, jet whooshing, wow! But I was just told there is one thing that is a little too hot for Red Bull to handle. One thing that causes sleepless nights. Much hand-wringing. Nervous sweat dripping down mock turtle necks.

What could this one thing be?

What could it possibly be?



Race car driving?


Jet whooshing?


Cold brew coffee?


Taurine getting reclassified as a DEA Schedule 1 drug?

No (maybe).



Your third favorite surf-based website, allegedly, is too hot for Red Bull to handle! Too scandalous for it it touch! Too dangerous for it to even look at! Oh how this rumor, which was whispered from deep inside Austrian unterteilung no. 3, makes me proud!

Die hässliche und schlecht geformte Website BeachGrit verspottet die konservativen Werte, die Österreich und die ganze Welt lieb haben. Es verspottet guten Geschmack. Sie verspottet Turtlenecks und sollte so schnell wie möglich nach Polen geschickt werden.

We are a fierce and roaring lion! A garden where the most stringent frowns turn upside down! A movement born deep in the hearts of surfers yearning to be free.

“Make Surfing Fun Again!” They shout and by “fun” I assume they mean heaping portions of lascivious gossip, unfounded rumor, cheap journalistic stunts, tabloid headlines, poorly produced videos and a couple of gals who just want to put smiles on faces.

BeachGrit! It’s got what surfers crave! It’s got electrolytes!

Cheyne Magnusson
Cheyne Magnusson, handful of ass. | Photo: MTV

How to: Love a Red-Haired Surfer!

It ain't easy, I know!

You believe in god? Oh really.

Can you explain: cancer in children, archaeological evidence of dinosaurs millions of years prior to the fabled garden of eden and the Orient not being privy to the revelations of the monotheistic religions until the nineteenth century therefore condemning millions of Asians to a fiery hell?

And… red-heads. Tell me a benevolent god would deliberately curse but one of his children with a ginger crown? That said, gal reds are gorgeous.

“Red-headed women buck like goats,” said James Joyce, and this I can vouch for.

But, men?

It’s interesting to note that there has only ever been two professional surfers with red hair and even more interesting is the fact both come from Maui. There is Dusty Payne (who, again, interestingly, claims to have “auburn” hair) and Cheyne Magnusson, the one-time star of the 2007 MTV reality show Maui Fever.

I loved Maui Fever (even if I got it confused with Living Lahaina). Cheyne, who is now thirty three years old and married and living in Oceanside, was the star of the short-lived series. It may be hard to believe, but, often, Cheyne had to contend with myriad women fighting to have their wombs scraped by his crooked sword.

Cursed by god, but succeeding beyond all measure, how could anyone not admire Mr Magnusson. Plus, he ripped. Anyway, yesterday, totally out of the wild, Cheyne sent me a very kind email. It read:

Just wanna say first and foremost I’m a big fan of your blog. Its my favorite one to look at because you guys tell it like it is. Big fan. Anyways, thanks for pushing that Clay baja edit a couple weeks ago I was super stoked you guys picked it up. I have been trying to help him out and get another large scale film project going with him and the brand JSLV. They are rad, trying to make a push in surf but keep it core and take care of their athletes. Anyways I got some residual clips while chaperoning Clay around and they were cool enough to produce an edit for me. Just passing it your way to see if you guys have any interest in putting it out there. Keep fighting the good fight for the industry. Loving all the articles. Also, you are spot on about the inertia. 

I replied that I loved Living Lahaina and said I would run his little short.

Cheyne wrote back:

Oh my god. It was maui fever goddamit!!! HAHAHAHA. Now i like you guys even more. ❤️❤️❤️❤️

I wrote: I sat by my television for years waiting for a new season!

Cheyne wrote: I layed in the fetal position for years hoping people would forget about it! 😜😜😜

I asked: Whatever happened to that super cute gal you used to nail on Living Lahaina?

Cheyne wrote: Well for one it was called maui fever. The other one that was called living lahaina was a bunch of surf instructors that weren’t from maui. I’d actually like to publicly apologize to anyone who had the unpleasant experience of watching it. The blondes name was Anna. She moved to Hollywood after the show and there was a rumor flying around that she dated marilyn manson. Not sure if thats true. She still lives in LA. Randomly, I am actually engaged and having a kid with a girl that she met when she moved here. Completely coincidental. Small fuckin world. I actually hate that chapter of my life but hey, it made me a stronger, smarter ginger on the back end. 

Finally I asked Cheyne two things:

Has being red been an impediment in your life and how can a red find love and sex?
Cheyne wrote:
Yes, it has impeded my ability to blend in anywhere in the world except for the country of Ireland. Also, since being red makes me a ginger, I have no soul, which means I shouldn’t be trusted so that sucks. That being said, I quote the great eric cartman who stated “better red than dead.”
That’s easy, first, impress them with your shredding skills on the board. Next, dazzle them with some tequila shots and a freaky dance move like the worm. Third, bust out the burning bush, chicks dig red pubes. You heard it here first, and probably last. But remember, I shouldn’t be trusted so thats actually a load of crap and I just got extremely lucky and I think my chick has terrible eyesight! Good luck out there fellow rangas.

Don’t you love a story of a man triumphing against the odds? Watch his nice movie here.


Nick Woodman
Maybe ice that French for a lil while… 

Advice: Sell GoPro Stock, like, now!

Rumours say the future outlook is grim. Massive layoffs coming this week!

A little birdie visited me yesterday. Landed right on my outstretched finger, sang me a beautiful song.

“Dump your GoPro stock,” it chirped. “Future outlook is grim. Massive layoffs coming this week. Marketing, events, and sales teams are getting cut to the bone.”

“How can you know this?” I asked the bird. “I can’t believe they’d invite you to meetings.”

“I’m a magic talking bird,” it replied. “I’ve got connections, bitch.”

It’s hardly news that GoPro has struggled to maintain their once bright prospects. Declining sales, increased competition. Nick Woodman made out like a bandit. Everyone else… not so much.

Since October, GoPro’s share price has almost halved, down from seventeen dollars to under ten.

The company attempted to revitalize flagging numbers with the introduction of its Karma drone, only to find themselves forced to issue a massive recall due to their tendency to lose power mid-flight.

At $800, without camera or accessories, that’s a bit of a problem. In addition to issuing full refunds to the 2500 people who have purchased a Karma, the company is offering a brand new GoPro Hero5.

And, says the birdie, a new camera due to land before Christmas was pulled by the CEO because he didn’t like the font.

Yanking your newest product from the shelves, and icing another, during the holiday season ain’t good for the bottom line. I think. I mean, I’m not a businessman or anything, but it’s probably safe to assume.

I actually wish I had a way to shoot them out of the sky whenever I find one hovering over the lineup and fucking with my good vibe. But I’ve often thought it would be very fun to lurk at one of Kauai’s many gorgeous scenic points and use my cheap drone to knock the expensive ones piloted by inconsiderate tourists from the sky. Fifty bucks is the price point I’m willing to pay for that.

Flying weed whacker aficionados will no doubt hasten to attach their new Hero5 to a competitor’s models. You can grab a cheap one at Costco for only $99. Which means it’s probably a piece of shit, but it’s a relatively inexpensive piece of shit.

Almost inexpensive enough to get me to buy one. I’ve got no real interest in filming aerial footage, actually wish I had a way to shoot them out of the sky whenever I find one hovering over the lineup and fucking with my good vibe. But I’ve often thought it would be very fun to lurk at one of Kauai’s many gorgeous scenic points and use my cheap drone to knock the expensive ones piloted by inconsiderate tourists from the sky. Fifty bucks is the price point I’m willing to pay for that.

“Is there anything else you can tell me?” I asked the little bird.

“Yes! Woodman’s new forty million dollar, 180-foot yacht has a sex dungeon below decks.”

“Is that true? Do you have any evidence?”

“No. I just like it when people pay attention to me. Sorry.”

“Well, you know, that kind of calls into question everything else you’ve told me.”

“I know. I’m sorry. The layoffs stuff is true, I swear.”

“Okay, bird. I believe you. Got any other hot stock tips for me?”

“Nope. I’ve pulled all my money from the market and put it into bitcoin mining. It’s the currency of the future!”


In Defense: Of the wonderful fat years!

Do obesity and creativity flow through the same channel? Maybe yes!

Picasso had a blue period, Alexander McQueen had a celtic period, Steve Jobs had a NeXT period.

Mark “Occy” Occhilupo had/has a fat period.

In a wide (j/k) ranging interview on Surfline yesterday the surf legend discussed turning 50, his podcast and turning 50. He mentions having been hurt, getting depressed and being fat but then dusting himself off and achieving fitness once again. The title of the piece was even:

Occy on Getting Fat, Old, Depressed… And Overcoming It All

…and was supposed to include a slideshow of “Occy through the years.” Except the only pictures were of lean Occy. Lean Occy carving, lean Occy slashing, lean Occy shredding.

It was as if Surfline was embarrassed by chubby Occy except to call him such in the title. But why? For what reason?

Oh I must admit to being jealous of men who can dance into the obese. There is something compelling about an artist blowing out his seams quite literally. Let us take Elvis Aaron Presley, for example. Sure skinny Elvis was one of the dreamiest men to ever walk the earth but fat Elvis was a vision. He’s got me caught in a trap and I can’t walk out!


Let us take Val Kilmer. Sure Iceman made the heart flutter but doesn’t portly Val waiting for his pizza just make you want to take him home and pinch his cheeks?


Let us take fat Bill Clinton. Wink, wink! Hubba hubba!


And let us take fat Occy. It is ok Surfline to show pictures of Occy doin’ it right. Don’t be ashamed! Don’t be embarrassed! Let your freak flag fly!


Watch: The Story of Ricardo dos Santos!

A story that actually means something. That matters.

Ricardo dos Santos challenged our status quo from the moment he first busted onto the scene. His death, shot down by an off-duty police officer in his home country of Brazil, shook us it to our very core. Gun violence was not something typical in surf. Is not something typical.

I remember first hearing about the shooting. It all felt very surreal and even more so that a young up-and-comer could die. Actually die. And when he did die it felt awful. Unnecessary.

I so applaud director Beren Hall and Stab for telling this story, for trying to pull it back into the light. It actually feels like it matters. Like it means something.