Updates July/06

Ok, now that Dirty is gone, its back to the real world. So, what's going on?
I'm still taking bids for painting the house, and I also sent out a request to my realtor to start giving me listings for new homes that I may want to relocate to and some rental properties that I may want to invest in.
It's back to the health kick again after 2 weeks off of slacking. I put back on about 4 pounds through partying hard. Went back to the gym yesterday and learned a good lesson that its not nice to stop going for 2 weeks and then go back. I'm not sore, but it still sucked. I really wish that it was somewhat bearable outside so I could get active outdoors. I suppose fall is coming soon enough.
Need to concentrate on my finances again. Booking trips and catering to travel and guest's needs have drained me a bit. Summertime has my AC running maxed out. To cool this damn house is about the cost of rent for a studio apartment. Car registration is due, credit cards are to be paid off, monthly savings and investments are to be deposited. Its gonna be tight. I could tap into savings, but that would do me nothing for discipline.
I'm off this weekend to visit my mom on Sunday for her birthday (I think she is turning 70). I work Sat night, leave for the airport to catch a 6am flight on Sunday, and then return on Monday night to work at 10pm. I get the feeling that it may be an exhausting trip, but it will be nice to be back home in the summer for at least one day. I haven't done that in a while. Hopefully there will not be too much drama. There is some inner-family stress going on right now as well as my last remaining grandparent being sick. I get the feeling that shit will come to a head within the family in the next 8 months or so, and hopefully things won't get too ugly. Nothing directly related to my person, but I may chose to get involved if my morals deem fit.
Got a camping trip planned in less than 3 weeks. We are scheduled to head up north for a weekend trip, get out of the heat, relax and chill with friends. The fire danger up north has passed, so we can have campfires, and plus, this trip is in monsoon season, so we may have a storm while up there. We shall see. Still, no storm has matched the great storm of '04. That was a doozy, and any storm that has come thru after that one makes me laugh...
Busy trying to keep my MYSPACE and blog pages updated, which is a pain in the butt but I think I finally got them all up to speed.
I think that's about all I can think of right now. Keep checking back frequently.
Oh, BTW...What's up with nobody posting comments or posts to anywhere recently? Just read this shit and fly eh? Whatever floats your guys' boats I guess.
Sheriff Out!

Dirty Ryan's Trashed Thursday

After a day's recovery from tittie bar Tuesday, we decided to throw a shindig at Casa Demelo before Dirty flew away on Friday.
The plan?
Grab a side of beef, 4 slabs of ribs, enough chicken breast tenders to have given 24 chicken masectomys, about 4 cases of beer, other foodstuffs and of course the full bar.
Invite an army over. Only a platoon showed up. We made a valiant attempt.
Striker got the meat sweats after 2 steaks, 4 ribs, 3 chicken breasts & seafood stew...passed out on the living room floor.
We had a good amount of close friends show up, some with dates, some solo. Ryan and Doug left early unfortunately. Doug had to work in the morning, but Ryan really had no excuse, but no biggie. We got him buzzed up and full on food.
We got convinced by an un-named party to start a very, very long trivia game wherein a few players dropped out due to drunkenness or fatigue.
We had one party crasher who ended up spewing all over himself at the end of the night..he,hee!
Woke up the next morning to drive Dirty to the airport after grabbing a last lunch with the boy.
It was sad to see him go. I don't think I got my full fill of that Dirty boy, and most of the peeps out here didn't see the actual "Dirty" himself. I suppose that in time there will be more festivities with Ryan, of which I look forward to.
In the meantime, normalcy has found its place back at Casa Demelo. Time to pay off bills and save up cash again after the last few weeks activities.
Godspeed off to Japan with you Ryan. Wish you could have stayed longer. Til then, its time to scaffio la briko my Dirty brother.

Tittie Bar Tuesday II, Dirty Ryan style

After returning to the 113 degree hell that is Phoenix, I worked that Monday night and then opened on Tuesday morning. I get off, head home, get Dirty and we go grab a quick burger for dinner. Doug comes over to pick us up to head out.
Where? Well we felt that Dirty was out of touch with his caveman roots, so to start we took his ass to the bowling alley. Frontier Lanes in Scottsdale was our venue.
We cruise in and to kill time before the nightly bowling special, we hit the bar area to drink and shoot pool. We ran the bartender around bad for the first round, but tipped her well and made good with her. Shots of crown and Jameson later, Dirty schools us in pool surprisingly.
We meet up with Crystal and hit the lanes. After a bit, Dirty returns to his caveman self and was soon chucking balls down the alley. Amusing yes, effective no.
We get our buzzed asses out of there and head up to Zipps for grub.
I warned them, but the tough guys didn't listen. I guess the title was just too tempting.
Zipps wings are hot. Damn hot. Like pour diesel on your tongue, lite it with a blowtorch and put it out with acid and boiling water hot.
Last time I tried and failed, I made it through 3 wings.
I sat amused as they made it through half a wing each before they started sweating and tearing up. It was a pride issue now. Ryan and Doug get three in. I get egged into having one.
As I sit burning, they still go at it. Doug tried to call a truce at 5 each, but Dirty wouldn't have it.
Teary-eyed, sweating, nose running and mouth covered in ranch, Dirty takes the last wing and gets bragging rights.
After dishing out pain, I decide that pleasure is in order. We head out to Babes for Tittie Bar Tuesday.
Pay the cover and drop $30 to the doorman for a table practically on stage and the girls dancing above your head. Doug is in awe, enjoying the girls rubbing on him. Dirty doesn't know where to look as titties are everywhere. Last call, no time for lapdances.
We head home and pass out. After all, I needed to wake up early to prep things for Thursday's party.

Dirty Ryan part deux

After our first nights drinking binge, we crashed out in a coma for 10 hrs and got up at 1pm.
We packed up for the beach and drove out to Coronado.
Along the way we introduced Ryan to Gay Robot, which led to us using the phrase "Taste it!" about 1 million times. Arrive in Coronado, hit up a Rite Aid for water, chips and energy drinks, then to Mc P's pub for anti-hangover grub.
Chow down a pile of 10-30 wt auto grease and then cruised over to Imperial Beach. I have never seen a beach that packed with people. Unfortunately we did not see a old fat hairy Italian man in a banana hammock.
Grab the bodyboards and hit the surf for 3 hours.
Water temps were hovering around 65, so it was pleasant, with breaks about 2-4 ft. Perfect for bodyboarding. I find out the joys of a rash guard. Dirty and Doug did not. Board rash on the front, and sunburn on the back...sorry boys...
It was great to be back in the water. I haven't boarded in almost 8 years. Zero wipeouts and a few really good rides. Doug bit it really, really bad once and I had to laugh and give him the "Oh damn!" face. Halfway thru our session, the tides changed and brought in a kelp forrest. After swimming through a fucking Caesar salad for an hour, we got tired and chilled on the beach.
Head back to the hotel, chill, change and head to Old Town for Mexican food at the Coyote Cafe.
IT was alright, a little dry, but good portioned.
Head out to where? The strip club of course. Platinum Club, by the airport.
Sorry, but the best girl there at supposably the best club in SD didn't come close to the ugliest girl here in AZ. We sit and get harassed by the Sunday night "B" team, and then leave at midnight. Doug is tired, so we head back to the room.
We stay up a few more hours shooting the shit then crash to get up early to drive home.
Next morning we awaken, leave and hit up Valentine's Mexican food in Mission Valley. Best damn carnitas burro I've ever had. Fill up the tank in El Cajon, start a fart war in the car which I end with a Hiroshima gut bomb, and get back to 112 degree Phoenix.

Dirty Ryan Part 1

Hookay...Needless to say, Dirty Ryan did not disappoint by truly keeping with his namesake.
He was a sexually perverted conundrum wrapped in a ass picking, underwear tossin, booger flickin, beer drinkin body. Which is why we love that fucker. He'd just be a plain old run of the mill Ryan otherwise.
To catch you guys up to speed, read the previous couple of posts to see what was up before we trekked it to San Diego and then the ensuing parties here in Phoenix.
But now, Part One...
After driving to LA EARLY Thursday morning of last week, Ryan decided that he'd just meet Doug and I in Diego and then drive back with us to Phoenix. I work Friday night after recovering from Thursday's debauchery, get home at 4am, get ZERO sleep, pack and then have Doug cruise over to Casa Demelo to pick me up and leave at 630 am. Doug arrives and we depart. No biggie. Hit downtown Phoenix and right into...a interstate closure??? Apparently there was an accident that forced the highway to close. Everyone gets shuttled to side streets which delays us an hour. I'm already into my 2nd energy drink and am still dead tired.
Finally we get back on the interstate and book it west. Hit a shortcut south to Interstate 8 and then west to Diego. trucking along at 90 mph and we are making solid time. Pull into Gila Bend and stop off at McDonalds to drain the tank and grab a McMuffin. Let me just say that if Quartzite AZ is the last shithole dustbowl town in Arizona, then Gila Bend may just be the armpit of the state. Just driving through it and your IQ decreases temporarily. If you moved there and could afford a double-wide trailer, you'ld be the town mayor as well as big pimpin all the ho's there with only 2 teeth missing.
We dee-dee mao out of that exception to Darwin's evolution theory and now zip 100mph to Diego. Doug and I make conversations, theories, fart wars along the way, as well as remember old times, anything to kill time. Cross into Cali and we are on po-po watch now. Granted I like CHiPS, but generally only with salsa.
Around 70 miles out of Diego, traffic stops. And I don't mean, slows down to 45 bumper to bumper...I mean stopped and parked. I think I saw a slug go faster. Apparently, in addition to a highwayside forrest fire, there was road construction too. Make our way past the hotshot crews only to find that there are no construction crews out, just a lane merge to one lane. Apparently CALTRANS workers don't work on Saturdays, but leave up the detours just to mess with us. Delay another 1 1/2 hrs.
Finally, we enter the Diego area and get a hold of Mr. Dirty who tells us to meet up at SDSU. We make it there and meet the boy. He needs to return the rental car, so we head off to Budget a little further down the road, only getting lost twice. We return the car, pile into Dougs car and head downtown to the hotel. Dirty Ryan starts being his welcome, yet disturbing Dirty self, yapping about bodily functions, girl's titties and ass, and consistently itching his nuts.
Hit the hotel and check in. We were supposed to get a suite with 2 beds and a sofabed, but Mr. Sheraton screwed up and shorted us one bed. Someone's getting cozy tonight.
Nice enough room for the discounted price, spacious enough, a little dirty, but with good views.
Crack open our first beers to toast to, and settle in for a little before grabbing an early dinner.
God Bless cheap dates.
Dirty doesn't drink much at all anyways, but in Japan, it's even rarer. After all, their cans of native brand beer are like 1/5 the size of ours. But at least over there, you can buy them in public out of vending machines.
Ryan has 2 beers and is already getting tipsy. We make him maintain, and go grab a bite to eat down the block in the Gaslamp district at a small Italian place. We dine Al Fresco on the patio watching all the people go by. Ordered up some fresh calimari and we all ordered the same seafood pasta dinner. Damn tasty treats too I tell you, mussels, clams, shrimp, salmon, rockfish and scallops in a red sauce over linguini. Ryan and Doug couldn't finish and I barely did too, but I forced myself for
1) I needs to be able to soak up some booze later...and
2) When am I going to get this kind of fresh seafood again?
We chew the fat about politics, and portions of food in Japan. BTW, the whole trip Ryan made us take pics of our meals to brag to everyone back in Japan about how much larger the meals are, and for half the cost.
After diner, we truk back to the room for a disco nap and to change to go out.
We wake up, and head back out to the bars to party down the block. I was told to go check out a place called The Local by one of my bartenders at work. Cool place, surf themed, stiff drinks and a laid back ambiance. Then the gauntlet was thrown down. Doug and Ryan devise a drinking ration scheme to try and get me wasted. Every shot that Ryan does, I have to do two. Okay...
No problem I guess. Dirty and I get mixed drinks, Doug a beer. They do a shot, I do two. Suck down my drink, order another. Doug gets more shots. I finish my next drink, order another. I'm already 6 in the hole to their 3 and I'm still the sober one there. Guess I've become an alki.
We leave The Local, or should I say, they stumble (lightweights) and I walk down to the other end of the Gaslamp past all the upscale clubs and their snooty guests to end up at my fav place, Dick's Last Resort. I get another round of drinks for Doug and I, and we do a round of shots with or Uber-cool server Kevin. Get some famous wings and then get advice from Kevin on local strip clubs and bars in the area. He says to check out the Platinum Club by the airport, or any club in Pacific Beach.
We stumble back to the room at last call. Bust out the grape vodka and sprites. I down a glass and Doug nurses his. He starts talking shit about him outdrinking me.
Current totals-
Ryan-4 drinks
Doug-6 drinks
Me-12 drinks*
*- but I have a tolerance because I drink all the time and forgetting that Doug weighs more than me now....*ahem*
riiight....
So, to prove his worth, Doug slams his vodka sprite and asks me what's up??!
Touche...I slam mine, and then reload it. But whatever, it's not a competition, just have a goodtime dammit! Besides, I wasn't the one yakking in the morning.
We sit around til the weeeee hours of the morning just jawin about old times and topics that never get old- ex girlfriends, family, politics, nut and ass scratching, working for the man, money, titties and ass, busting ass...etc...
We get the munchies and Ryan and I decide that we need to walk to Rite Aid to get grub at 330am. Guess I thought it was a 24hr shop for some reason. It wasn't. Neither was anywhere else.
Get back to the room empty handed and just nosh on crap we had in the car. Ryan then busts out 2 small cans of meat for us to try. It looks like SPAM cans with Japanese writing. We ask what it is and Dirty tells us that it's turtle meat. Turtle meat?? Yes, and its supposably expensive, an aphrodisiac and a rare treat. We pop one open and it smells like tuna and looks like pate'. Doug and I grab a cracker and take a bite. Dirty starts laughing. Asswipe!
Apparently he got us. We just took big bites of $2 cans of horsemeat. I guess horse is common to eat there. Wasn't that bad really, tastes like ham. I just couldn't get past the thought of somewhere in that ground up can of meat that I may have had horse cock in my mouth.
Finally, we pass out shortly after that.
End of night one and part one.

Such sights to show you

Sorry about the delay guys. This is a quickie to let y'all know that I have a shit-ton of blogs I need to write about the past week's events with Dirty Ryan when I have time to sit and write it all down. I'll keep you posted soon. As an appetizer, the past week's stories involve strippers, insane hot wings, san diego beaches, drunken monkeys, fart wars, mohawks, pans of meat, cans of horsemeat, ass picking and other assorted debauchery. Seriously...
off to work to raise more bail money.

Trashed Thursdays

We like Tittie Bar Tuesdays, but for pure debauchery, say hello to it's inbred cousin, Trashed Thursdays. This past episode involved almost getting arrested, mohawks and Hawaiian shirts, passing out, trying to find a kiddy pool at 10pm, and numerous episodes of wanton stupidity with a side of nutpunches.
Before I elaborate on the day's events, I must first set the scene by going back to the night before.
As most of you know, Dirty Ryan is in town from Japan with his girlfriend, who can barely speak a lick of English. They drive into Phoenix Weds afternoon and we hang for a bit before I head into work that night. I convince them to come on up to my bar to see the fear factor show we host. They show up about 1015pm, and Ryan's girlfriend is in a full kimono with her hair in a topknot. Wow...she looked nice, but I was afraid I'd have to whoop some ass if someone teased my bro's girl about it. I guess they don't drink much there in the land of the rising sun because after 1/2 a drink and a weak shot, she had to be pretty much carried out of the bar. Dirty Ryan isn't exactly up to par on drinking 101 also, 2 drinks and a shot and he was faced also. That's what he gets for talking smack about my drinks being too weak. It's amazing how one can disguise the taste of 151 rum.
I get home at 4am anticipating them to be sleeping and resting for a full day of events planned on Thursday. They are missing! I get a note on the counter saying that they went back to San Diego before his girl flew back to Japan on Friday. Cool, whatever, I'll meet him in SD when Doug and I head there on Saturday. I was just upset that they chose to drive there after drinking that hard. That's Ryan for you.
So, we were supposed to go to the river that morning to go tubing with them. They are out of the equation, so that leaves Chris, Striker,myself and anyone else who we can recruit to go in the morning. I get a call from Striker at 915am saying that after doing after hours at work and then hitting up the 6am bar after that, that Rebecca is passed the hell out and can't go with us. That means that Striker didn't have a ride either. I tell him that I'll get ready and get him picked up.
10 minutes later, out of the shower, he calls back and says and I quote..."dude! I'm getting arrested! *get off me* They are trying to arrest me right no...get the fuck off me!" Click...
WTF????
I head out and head up Striker's way. He calls back and tells me to come get him at home, which as he was calling me, the ceiling in his kitchen had just collapsed from a water leak.
WTF!!!!??
I get there, go inside and Striker pushes me out the door holding 2 bottles of tequila and a bag of steaks. "We gotta get the fuck out of here..."
We leave, and he tells me as we drive back to my safehouse away from this insanity that after Rebecca passed out that he went to the grocery store to get supplies for the river trip...food, beer, whatever. The clerk didn't believe that his ID was his, nor his signature was his so she summoned the wannabe Fry's rent-a-cops to "detain" him until the authorities get there. He wrestles away from the poorly trained "officers" gets in Becca's jeep and peels out of the parking lot only to get home to find himself under a collapsing kitchen ceiling after the place's A/C unit busts and leaks into the roof. All this before 10am.
That brings things up to speed. I'm thinking, "this fool is currently a walking disaster area, do I want to be around this boy?"
We make it to the safety of my house and start day drinking at 1030am. Chillin, boozing, Chris joins us for a day party at my house since the river trip got cancelled.
We booze all freggin day. Striker gets a good nut punch to Chris' left nut, tries twice with me, but misses both times. After a half game of drunken horseshoes, we find Striker crawling on the floor with my dog Jenny and then passed out in the living room chair. We take full advantage of the situation with good photo and video evidence, saving the really incriminating pictures for blackmail and private viewing.
Crystal and Mike show up around 7 to join in. Andrea and my neighbor Arron come later, floowed by 'Drea's friend Lauren. At some point in the early evening, I make the suggestion that we really need a pool to party in, so some of us head across the way to Walmart to shop for a kiddy pool to sit in. Don't ask, we were presently wasted.
We came back empty handed.
We wake Striker up from his drunken coma, and restart the party up at night.
Chris makes his infamous cheese log and we wolf most of it down.
Striker makes an announcement that he wants a mohawk...NOW!
Bust out the clippers and the camera, and we now have an authentic Mad Max beyond thunderdome Erik Striker. Poor boy is gonna wake up with a helluva hangover and a haircut.
12 hours of drinking catches up with me, and I form a mid-party migrane. This thing was so viscous that I could barely keep my eyes open. Sucks too because I got my second wind and was sobering up and more functional now. I couldn't kill it. I popped 2 advil, 2 steins of water and it still didn't go away. I retreated to the bedroom to relax and ended up passing out.
The girls left, and the boys passed out in various places in the house in various poses.
I try to get up today, clean up the warzone, recover and get ready for a roadtrip and a new party in San Diego in the morning. Here I was thinking the worst was over. I get the feeling its just starting.
Say aloha to trashed Thursdays.
Seacrest out, see you in a few days fresh from Cali.

Iz pardy-tyme mang!

In honor of Dirty Ryan's return to the Trizan here in Phoenix, I think its time to resurrect a tradition we used to have that we have seemed to have long lost forgotten. It's time to throw another party. I'll look on next week's schedule to see what day I will have off, but if my usual schedule remains, it will more than likely be on Thursday the 20th. I am purchasing a shit-ton of booze for the bar this week in lieu of upcoming shenanigans, as well as trying to get things ready around the house for Dirty Ryan himself.
BTW, Ryan is going to be in town this Weds night and we are tentatively scheduled to head out to the river on this Thursday to go tubing again, and to party our asses off afterwards. The more the merrier, so get your suits on and your liver ready if you wanna party with us on Thurs.
I was trying to see if there was a baseball game to go to this Thursday, but the Dbacks are off that day and there are absolutely NO social events or concerts going on at night, so that night is completely open for ideas. As it stands now, if we go tubing in the day, it'll be early, around 10 or 11 am, get back in the late afternoon, take a disco nap, and then head out to party around town. We might head up to Sandbar and Dirty Dogg in North Scottsdale, head south to downtown Scottsdale, and maybe finish off in Tempe before doing afterhours at Casa Demelo. That is, if people can hang partying that long and hard. Oh, yeah, there may be a strip club involved, yay POLE TRIX!!!!

Shopping

Taking advantages in opening up your own business can come in various forms. I have my buddy Chris that has signed on to the project if I should chose to have a partner in crime, help from my current bosses (for which I am greatly thankful for) and assistance and materials from various city agencies.
But it still will be a long way til my place opens up, a very long time. Hopefully within the next few years. Why? Location, location,location.
There is nothing worthwhile for sale anywhere in the valley. So, in the meantime, one can always work on their business plan and ideas, and shop for random shit so that once I get keys to a place, I can get in and set up quicker.
That said, the old Club Rio (back in the day), a.k.a Tempe Beach Club has been closed since the end of last semester and is slated for demo in the next month or so to make way for Tempe's riverfront project and a ton of luxury condos. That means that the owners are trying to liquidate as much crap as possible for cash before the wrecking ball comes through.
I scored a shit ton of plates (good commercial grade china), flatware, pans, kitchenware, some furniture, cups and paper products and what nots for under about $220. Not bad considering all that stuff would sell in retail for almost $1000 or more. So now the shit is in storage in my garage. Some of it will double as my own personal stuff when I host parties at Casa Demelo.
Capt. Mike and my other boss Greg scored bigtime with big items like dishwashers and preptables and stools, but they helped out in me getting a decent deal on things, so I owe them some thanks too.

Idiots!

I think I would have rather had a slow night at work making zero cash than have to had dealt with the plethora of idiots last night. Calling them idiots would be a vast understatement. We did get busy eventually last night and got our asses ran around dealing with people using their credit card to pay for one or two drinks at a time instead of running a bar tab, 3 fights that cleared out the front of the bar, 2 separate groups of people that ordered like $30 in drinks and then tipped me a quarter (seriously...fifty cents one time, and then a quarter the next group) and then a paper spindle FULL of wheel spin drinks for which us bartenders thanked the wheel bitch and doormen for putting that burden on our shoulders with no tips for us.
We cut a bartender early when it was slow, so when we got nailed, we really got worked. I figured that at least with all the people in the bar, that we'd at least see one set of titties to make our night not seem so long, but no, all prudes, including the drunk bachelorettes.
Left work in a pissy mood last night, but at least we didn't get out too late. Passed out in bed at 430 am.
Seacrest out!

Dirty

6 more days. Are you prepared? You have 6 more days to muster up the courage to withstand the oddity that is Dirty Ryan. Think of all the different facets of the term "dirty". Physical dirty, mental dirty, sexually dirty, emotionally dirty, hygenically dirty, financially dirty, a 10 dollar mango stealing skanky ass Van Buren prostitute dirty....and then there's Dirty Ryan dirty...which is a combo of all of the previous dirtynesses and himself, which is an indescribable kind of dirty.
He's on the radar screen now as I speak. Back in the USA, in California somewhere visiting old haunts, family, and warming up to return to Phoenix in how many days? That's right, 6 days. You've been officially warned.

What is my liguistics profile

Your Linguistic Profile:

65% General American English

15% Upper Midwestern

10% Dixie

5% Yankee

0% Midwestern

What Kind of American English Do You Speak?

dreamin

I had a very strange, but compelling dream last night. First off, let me set the tone for last night. I didn't go out, I stayed in and watched TV and played some games solo. A nature special on PBS channel 8 was on called Condition Black. I was about the storm system that nailed Hawaii's north shore of Oahu in January of 98 producing waves of upwards of 40 - 80 feet and some of the surfers who were brave (or insane) enough to attempt to surf them.
Anyways, I crash out around 4am. I dreamt that I was back home in California, but it really wasn't home-home in real life, just for my dream's sake it was. I was driving around near a downtown area where there was a mix of storefronts and apartments. Some people were having a impromptu yard sale out front and I stopped to check it out because there was a couple of surfboards for sale out there. There was one that I really wanted, about 8 ft, custom paint job, which looked like a mix between a longboard and a small shredder- think of a longboard with a pointed nose. Dude wanted $750 for it used. Somehow I was able to get it, but don't remember giving him money for it.
I hustled down to the waterfront and got in. I was sitting on this board waiting for a set to roll in and while I waited, I was able to look down into the water and see everything swimming by. The water was so clear. Fishes, sea lions, dolphins, even this big old walrus swam by and brushed up against my feet a few times.
Eventually I paddled out to try and catch a few, got a small wave, like really small...like 2 ft. I was disappointed. Then, out of nowhere this 12 foot wave surprizes me! I paddled hard and got in front of it and struggled to get up. I rode fast and hard down the face of this wave and then the wave broke right on my backside forcing me to fall down on the front of the board. The impact cracked and broke off 2 of the 3 fins in the back and shattered a section out of the front making it unrideable and possibly unfixable.
I dragged this thing back to the storefront where I bought it from and told the guy the story. He was amazed that this happened so fast. I asked for directions to a surf shop for possible repairs and he gave me advice the best that he could, but more than likely I was out of luck and would have to get a new board.
In that dream I felt the full spectrum of my emotions from the onsetting curiosity and discovery, to the wonder, thrill and excitement of the ride and finally to the utter depression and sadness at the end. I almost woke up emotionally drained. Which is why I went back to sleep and woke up at 1 pm!
Seacrest out!

Casa Demelo

Casa Demelo was open last Thursday night for a small gathering of friends.
A grand total of six souls graced my home with their somewhat drunken presence. Everyone else was either working, had other plans, or in one case pussed out...you know who you are girl!
Anyways, the dinner menu consisted a variable smorgasborg of continental wares (the following should be motivation enough for all the rest of the naysayers who never make it to come out at least once to party)..Appetizers alone were a buffet style meal in itself-shrimp cocktail, a healthy veggie, cheese and fruit platter, homemade fruit salsa (the recipe is secret, I've killed for less), fresh guacamole (thanks Laura), and of course your standard fare chippers and nibblers.
All huddled around the kitchen, Chris, Laura and Crystal traded vices, stories, work-related bitch fests and water-cooler topics while I heated up the grill and started cooking the main fares...Jamaican jerk chicken, NY strip steaks and rosemary garlic lamb shanks.
Liquor started flowing more easily, shots were infused with the plethora of foodstuffs floating in our bellies, and games of "I never" were started. Never a dull moment with "I never" in the house for we soon found out who has used assorted vegetables as a prophilactic device, who's watched their siblings have sex, and who hasn't made sweet teen lovin in the backseat of a car.
Turns out while I was cooking I somewhat fooled myself. The herbs and allspice the lamb was marinating and cooking in let off an intoxicating aroma of nothing less than freshly baking glazed doughnuts. It's bad enough that I haven't allowed myself to have a doughnut in months, but that just whet my appetite even more. To my disappointment, the lamb did NOT taste of the same breakfast food it smelled like. It was delicious in its own right though, just somewhat of a let-down in the end.
We all move inside for a trivial pursuit rematch from a month ago. The reigning champion Mike attempted to hold his championship intact, but with the host team dominating the board, his dreams of a repeat were soon dashed. And so was mine with a surprize dark-horse coming from behind and snatching the victory from me with what has to have been the easiest for the win question ever..."name the female pop star who married athlete Lance Armstrong." Sorry, but unless you have lived under a rock at the bottom of the ocean for the past 5 years, you shouldn't miss that one.
We all left or passed out drunk by 3am to have to get up and suffer our own personal hells of hangover land the following day, as well as inform eachother of the things we said or did for which we didn't remember. Thank god for digital cameras...for now I have blackmail photos to at least counter-act the naughty ones people took of yours truly!
Expect another Casa Demelo gathering when Dirty Ryan gets here in 2 weeks!
Seacrest out!