I Cried During ET and My Grandpa Called Me A Pussy

So I somehow done and tweaked my back real bad doing…? I don’t even know. Possibly a no comply gone awry in the street in front of my house, but it seriously just was jacked out of nowhere for no reason. On pretty much the nicest day of the summer so far. Dictionary definition of the word stoops. (Italicized for proper effect.)

Need to see more pictures of dudes drinking CLs? Here’s San Diego trip day 2:

This was the official spot list of the trip. Many were hit, some from the list, some unauthorized, and some were left unpollinated. A unarguable great selection to say the least. Like a perfect mixtape given to your summer crush. This was John’s mixtape to the Beez.

I sadly continued my backyard training sessions so I could be a contender in the ill fated and never held Ezee compound Olympics.

The following three pictures all remind me of Troy:

This is the section of the update which should feature photos of us skating all over the place during the day, but I seem to have failed in taking any such photos. I can’t even really remember where we skated. I’m sure it was radical, yet I obviously hurt myself and ruined my shirt somehow. That was the sequence of events pretty much each and every time we went skateboarding.

After skating, we again went to the beach.

This picture is of note only because I believe it to be the only picture to exist on this planet of Russ with a beer in his hand.


I enjoyed this only because it reminds me of the movie North Shore. “On a small stretch of coastline as powerful as a man’s will, Rick Kane came to surf the big waves. He found a woman who would show him how to survive, and a challenge unlike any other.” It’s basically the same movie as Thrashin’. But with surfing. A great entry into the lexicon of 80’s underdog movies.


I saw this almost everyday.

John keeps the goodtimes in a little basket he carries around and sprinkles them on you at will.

Time to go rest my sad little back.