Rogan (left) and Slater (right) (I think).
Rogan (left) and Slater (right) (I think).

World’s greatest surfer Kelly Slater confidant Joe Rogan draws fire for comment about “shooting homeless people,” calls ex-US President Donald Trump an Adderall-afflicted “man baby” in explosive new interview!

Outrage!

The world’s greatest surfer Kelly Slater is many things to many people including, but not limited to, 11x champion, oldest Pro Pipeline in history and extremely popular podcaster Joe Rogan’s friend and confidant. The two recorded a much-loved episode nearly four years ago now though it feels like it was just yesterday.

Relive here.

Rogan, in any case, made headlines today by outraging both sides of the political fringes first by suggesting former United States President Donald J. Trump, likely the 2024 Republican candidate, enjoyed the affects of Adderall, a medication used to treat attention deficit hyperactivity disorder while also calling him a “man baby” and, second, by joking that the homeless in Los Angeles should be shot in a new episode featuring the standup comedian Tom Segura.

Explosive, I suppose.

But to our point, do you think Slater grows jealous when he watches Rogan effortlessly chat about this and that, real world events as opposed to crocodiles, with others? Conversations that burst into the mainstream and cause shock and dismay? His own aforementioned episode, though, again, much-loved, was not without critics accusing the current world number seventeen of kowtowing to the famous podcaster.

Back to the explosion, though, the rage caused by the “shooting homeless” joke, in particular, are you too seeing red?

Filled with passion?

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Billy Kemper, Kai Lenny, Ian Walsh (pictured). Surf journalist just out of frame.
Billy Kemper, Kai Lenny, Ian Walsh (pictured). Surf journalist just out of frame.

Following warrior path of Kai Lenny, Billy Kemper, Ian Walsh, brave surf journalist dusts off gun and paddles into menacing jaws of “historic” swell!

Fortune favors the bold.

The text came in early from a great friend. “Just dropped kid at beach summer camp. D Street is cranking.” And just like that, history had arrived on my very doorstep. As you are well aware, that same history has been lashing the Hawaiian Island chain’s south facing shores. Videos emerging of two-story condominiums getting completely barreled, weddings washed away, much wailing and gnashing of teeth as the largest south swell in decades steamed in from the deep.

18 – 24 foot faces.

678 – 986 foot Surfline.

Our heroes, wearing names like Kai Lenny, Billy Kemper, Ian Walsh, though, were undaunted, took the bigger boards and treated the world to a spectacular spectacular.

Inspiring.

And so I got out of bed, knowing that D Street was cranking, wondering if my spine would be steeled enough.

Thankfully, as a recently transitioned biathlete, I’d been both surfing and running and hoped my body could take it as local San Diego newspapers were whispering of possible 8 foot sets. No telling how many Surflines.

I waited for the tide to dip, dropped by daughter off at ballet intensives then headed to the garage and carefully slid my 6’10 Channel Islands gun from the racks.

Breathing heavy.

Not wanting to overthink, I had decided to surf out the front, wandered down, hopped the tracks, scampered across the Pacific Coast Highway and studied the carnage. Lines of whitewater stretching from Swamis down to the Cardiff Reef.

No mercy.

I closed my eyes, thought of Kai Lenny, Billy Kemper, Ian Walsh and, then and there, decided to etch my name alongside theirs in the annals.

The water was warm, due the southern nature of the swell, and I regretted my 2 mil short-arm almost immediately though was also quietly thankful for the buoyancy it would give me and the mental security it might provide.

My wetsuit of armor.

The paddle was lightly tiring, as I had to duck dive four or five waves, but then I was in a lineup that hadn’t been so thin in months. Just five hellmen alone together.

One was on a single-fin Lightning Bolt, crimson and yellow.

Most of the sets were closing out but I managed to claw into a left, towering frightfully above my shoulder, and looked over its feathering lip to see if my comrades had seen it too.

Kai Lenny, Billy Kemper, Ian Walsh, Chas Smith.

History.

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Rob, drawing fingers to lips, questioned the proposition. “Ikea uses precious timber to build its stuff, yeah?” While one executive rubbed his hands into a nervous ball, the other responded, “Yes, but it’s all sealed in plastic.” | Photo: IKEA

Behind-the-scenes of IKEA/WSL collaboration inspired by Rob Machado, “We want to collaborate with you for the same reason Breitling grabbed Kelly, for his intimate knowledge of clockworks.”

“A coffee table. A square one. No, rectangle. No, in the shape of…a surfboard?” His mind whirred like a Breitling.

A hard-white sunlight pushed through the blinds of the marketing department Monday morning. A pair of executives sat comfortably on a Finnala© three-seat faux-leather sectional (available black, sherpa tan; pull-out, $2,455).

Facing them was cross-legged former world number-two surfer and environmentalist Rob Machado, sipping coffee from his Kejserlig© mug (black, grey, clay; $4.99/2-pk).

“You find the place OK, Rob?”

“Yeah, I saw those bright blue and yellow flags out front. It’s cool that you guys support Ukraine.”

The executives crossed eyes then returned to Machado.

“Hungry?” asked the exec as she extended a plate of Huvodroll© meatballs ($7.99/12) toward Rob.

“I’m vegan.”

The executives winked at each other knowingly and stretched another arrangement of Varldsklok© plant-mince balls across the glass table.

“How about these? They’re sustainable!” the exec exclaimed.

“What does that even mean?” asked Machado raising an eyebrow.

The executives leaned forward.

“That’s why we brought you here, Rob. We’re dreaming about a new fully sustainable surf-inspired line: furniture, cookware, beach gear. And we think you’re the perfect person for a collaboration. Full partners, IKEA, the WSL, and you, from forest to floor.”

Rob, drawing fingers to lips, questioned the proposition. “Ikea uses precious timber to build its stuff, yeah?”

While one executive rubbed his hands into a nervous ball, the other responded, “Yes, but it’s all sealed in plastic.”

“Oh.”

Seemingly relaxed, Rob slipped off his sandals and slid his toes through the plush Langsted© area rug (low-pile, non-slide; $49.99).

“We want to collaborate for the same reason Dockers paired with Jon Rose’s Waves for Water. I mean, who doesn’t want―no, need―access to affordable slacks in drought-stricken regions of the world?”

The other executive added, “We want to collaborate with you for the same reason Breitling grabbed Kelly for his intimate knowledge of clockworks.”

The room went silent as if chloroformed.

Dropping their smiles, the executives explained. “You see, Rob, our company is about more than disposable furniture. We’re about preserving the environment and those living within it. You ever visit the San Diego IKEA?”

“The one on Fenton Parkway? Sure. And I’ve always dreamt about cruising a couple hours north to the Costa Mesa store in my conversion van.”

The executive began painting Rob a picture. “When you enter the San Diego IKEA, you see people from all walks of life―old, young, rich, semi-rich. Everyone is there, in every color, walking in perfect harmony, perpetually. It’s about multi-cultural sustainability for people and planet alike.”

“You should open one in Kharkiv,” interjected Rob innocently.

The executive talked straight into Rob’s eyes. “So far, we have a few items in the works but are stuck. For example, take a look at this.”

The executives unfolded a Kaseberga© prototype beach blanket on the table, plain white.

“Now, Rob, we want something that screams ‘SURFBOARDING!’ Tell us: what should we do with this blanket?”

Machado studied the cloth like a surgeon reading an x-ray, shifting his eyes around the four corners of the terry-cloth monolith.

“I’m thinking floral print.”

The executives pumped their fists in unison.

“YES! That’s exactly why we brought you in, Mr. Machado. Now, keep the flow here. Keep rolling.”

They made bicycle crank circles with their hands.

“What else is spinning in your head for the collection?”

Rob folded his arms, slid his eyes to the ceiling, then spoke slowly, carefully.

“A coffee table. A square one. No, rectangle. No, in the shape of…a surfboard?” His mind whirred like a Breitling.

“Oh, that’s beautiful, Rob,” cried one of the executives. “Beautiful. A table that looks like a surfboard.”

A tabletop drum roll and trumpet sounded from the executives. “Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the Kaseberga© surfboard coffee table (bamboo, wire underframe, $99.99)!”

For the next four hours, the team poured over the new Surf-Core Line designs. They sketched, they grappled, they wondered, pushing the limits of design, taste and ethics. In the end, each piece of the collection was determined to have floral print. They also had the idea for a charcoal grill, also with floral print.

Rob, exhausted, fell back in his chair.

“This is all great, guys. But is it sustainable?”

Befuddled, the executives tossed their palms upward.

“We’ve gone over this. Everything comes from trees we rip down and what can be, will be, wrapped in plastic.”

“That’s not enough. I’m sorry.”

“Mr. Machado, just what do you mean?”

“You know, sustainable. Royalties in perpetuity.”

The trio burst into wild laughter.

“Now, how ‘bout we grab some plant-mince balls and drive up to Costa Mesa in that conversion van (Dodge, 1978, 7 mi/gal.).”

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Watch as Kai Lenny, Robin to Mark Zuckerberg’s Batman, gets monster barrel of his young life at the “world’s fastest right!”

Screaming!

Again, the weekend swell that bashed southern facing shores along the Hawaiian Island chain has not disappointed, no not at all. There have been weddings destroyed, two-story condominiums ravaged and mythical waves coming to life.

But had you heard of Maalaea? Freight Trains? The “world’s fastest breaking right?”

I had.

My bank robbing Cousin Dan (buy here), in fact, told me about it during a family reunion on Maui some 30-odd years ago. He pointed out to a harbor near Kihei and said, “That, right there, is the world’s fastest breaking right.”

It wasn’t breaking at the time, though he and my Cousin Mikey tried to surf it. I was back on Maui, a decade or such, later and paddled it myself just to say that I had surfed the world’s fastest breaking right though it was very small.

Not big like the monster barrel of Kai Lenny’s young life.

Whoa.

Robin to Mark Zuckerberg’s Batman is moving as fast as I have ever seen someone move on a surfboard.

Speedy.

But don’t you think that Zuck and Kai should join up to fight crime outside of the metaverse? Zuck with his riches, albeit diminishing, and Lenny with his pluck?

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Watch as bridesmaids and matrons, ignoring official warnings to steer clear of menacing Hawaii south shore, get ravaged by pillaging wave!

Sick.

From my vantage, here in more or less gray Southern California, it appears as if the “historic” swell promised to hit south facing shores of the Hawaiian Island chain over the weekend materialized. Last Thursday, officials began sounding the alarm bells, warning tourists, the infirm, those weak of will and/or stomach to avert their eyes from the raging sea and go inland instead to maybe practice yoga or finger-painting.

Predictably, many ignored.

And let us to fair Kailua-Kona where we lay our scene, from ancient marital tradition break to absolute carnage, where salty ocean water mixed with mud and debris makes bridesmaids and matrons hands unclean.

Would you have paddled?

Sick.

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