Tell the truth.
Oh hello, again, from day…. 3462792 of our virtually shared Coronavirus Quarantine. Madness has seeped into all our lives. Madness and severe introspection. Hours each day, locked in doors, jackboot’d Gestapo waiting to ship us off to re-education camps if we dare attempt President Trump’s recommended sunlight treatments, just thinking about our past behaviors.
Hours each day wondering if we lived well or failed our mandate.
If we’re lucky, named Strider Wasilewski, quarantined in Malibu and starred in iconic surf films there is more to ponder.
Like this famous surf film now ripped offline.
Damned hindsight.
Cursed hindsight.
But who, amongst us, dare cast the first stone?
David Lee Scales and I spent time discussing these heady thoughts, in lieu of actual surf content since the World Surf League’s gorgeous transition from sport governing body to fabulous surf blog appears to be hitting some bumps, but…
…are you proud of your younger self?
David Lee’s younger self cast a bean burrito at an innocent bicyclists.
Mine penned a high school newspaper editorial declaring people with AIDs deserved it.
I was subsequently fired.
Listen here.
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Love has turned Daves brain to Mush!!!
Dave
Just spray your mask with glenn 20.
it’s painful to listen to your discussion about the Fed. Get a textbook. 😂
Exactly the advice I was hoping for
I obviously misinterpreted Trump’s light solution. I thought he said to shine the light internally ..so I been lying here for three hours with a torch stuck up my arse…it doesn’t seem to be working?
Try a UV fluorescent strobe just to make sure.
I’ll listen to it later
Guy I was visiting in Manly was acting like a douche in the water.
I sent a letter to Tracks in ’97 about the ginger Yank with the big mouth surfing like a kook and barking at people.
He religiously read it.
Job done.
The next best thing to sniffing coke off a dunny
I guess that I regret fucking that Pizza Hut waitress in the ass when I was 15. Nah, I’m just bragging.
Dad?
Was her name Margherita?