Plug it in and Turn me on!

You guessed it, this is going to be about the new Keith Malloy surf movie "Come Hell or High Water." Not only is it the 1st movie solely about bodysurfing, but it has some of the best in the sport doing what they do best, MAKING BABIES CRY from SHITTING THEIR PANTS because they've just seen MOZART take a piano, shape it into a wave, then FUCKING SLIDE DOWN THAT BITCH LIKE NEVER BEFORE SEEN, now DIKE OUT! Woo....thank god I got that out early in the blog post.

I have to get sentimental for a moment. The first memories I have of surfing period are from bodysurfing. My pops took me to the beach (Newport Pier to be specific) and showed me how to go straight in on a wave for as long as I could. You put your arms behind your back and you went until your belly, or Jewish nose for me, hit the sand. When I became a teenager I surfed all the time with Christian "The Ice-berg" Berg-hansen, but we ditched the boards often -- at the point -- to just bodysurf. No chicks, no glory, no future, just gay fun. In retrospect, I should have kept surfing, because clearly there are a lot more opportunities in that industry...bummer.

Anyway, here we are today. I love bodysurfing. My lifestyle, personality, and overall general attitude are much more aligned with those who bodysurf. These guys love to play grab ass more than an overly excited football player, and make gay jokes more than an overly excited bible thumper (and might I add under informed). Tonight, the movie will be amazing not just because it's about something I love (because I didn't get this excited when chipotle opened up on the peninsula and I LOVE CHIPOTLE!), but because I will get to see it with a group of people who love it just as much as me, if not more. It will be like seeing the Beebs  for the first time, and we are all horny young hormonal teenage girls. Rowdy? Yup. Respectful? Yup. Speedos? Well, you'll have to come to find out.

-VanMelum

PS If I may provide an addendum to Keith's tagline: "It's about taking a breath and kicking your feet in the big blue see [while using your dick as a rudder]."

Breakdancing in the Barrel

What a weekend it was! And heeeeeeeere we gooooooo...

A long time ago I bought a bee-bee gun to shoot the pesky squirrels (wabbits) that make my dogs bark. Well, yesterday I got one square in the face! BOOYAH GRANDMA! Here's the dialogue:

Wife: Did you hit it?
Thomas: I don't think so. It ran to the other side of the tree.
Wife: Oh there it is. You missed it.
(Squirrel then falls out of the tree, 10 or so feet, and hits the ground).
Thomas: I GOT IT!

After about a split second of happiness, the flailing of the squirrel makes me uneasy, and the sickness starts to set it. Long story short, I stunned the shit out of it, but it later got up and run away. And that was just the beginning of the weekend.
Rock 'n Roll Petesvky and Roxanne were kind enough to invite us to the Newport Beach Jazz concert series. I told Petesvky point blank my feelings about Jazz, but we opted to go anyway. NGUYENING! Not only was the show amazing (in part mainly to the guy who played the talk box through an electronic clarinet), but Wife and Roxanne took a picture with Danielle, aka Topanga. Apparently Roxanne is Topanga's long lost sister, so from now on I am calling her Roxanga. Your thoughts?

Disco Balls and Man Calls

It's been awhile since I've posted...it's 'cause I'm married bitch! If you weren't there here is what you missed:

In-N-Out Burgers
Eye Candy
Nose Candy
Strong Drinks
Some muted pinks
Lots of white
Loud music
and just an overall GAY time. BLAM! I hope Lauren Birchfield is ok...haven't seen her for awhile. Maybe it's because I can't see her through the amount of dust I just left her in. Just call me Gandhi because I peaced out (yup just made that up). I was having a conversation with my dog yesterday, Oswald (he's such a great listener), and we discovered a lot in our little discussion. Namely, fragmented sentences are the key to the truncated attention spans we all have these days.

What's up with "these days?" What about "those days?"

I almost buried myself and my own bachelor party with the amount of activities we were accomplishing. Turns out, if you have a steady stream of alcohol and a dash of food, you can run for days. I can confirm this test based off of my 3 day bachelor trip in Santa Catalina. Aside from Jake passing out on the pier 1 hour into the trip, and AY ducking out early every night, everybody champed out, hardcore (not this hardcore but this hardcore). UHH! It's like that sick drum fill....boot a bap boom boom! Sound it out, you'll hear it.

So many crazy adventures, so many crazy faces...I'm coming back at it because I want to make time for you internet! I owe you everything internet...let me purge my life story all over your spongy surface. Soak it up.

Thomas VanMelum