SW WIND 15 TO 20 KT.
WIND WAVES 3 FT.
W SWELL BUILDING TO 23 FT AT 15 SECONDS.
Surfing Santa and a shot of a few hardy souls surfing one of the few available waves in Oregon on Christmas day...
The ode below is courtesy of Wilbur...Mayor of the OSP.
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through PC
Not a creature was stirring, save for the old lady and me.
The longboards were slung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that a fat Christmas Swell soon would be there.
The Pikeys were nestled far away in their beds,
While visions of pooftas danced in their heads.
And mamma on her knees, with her head in my lap,
We had just screwed our brains out and needed a snack.
When out on the lot there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the floor to see what was the matter.
On my way to the window my big toe I did smash,
Tore open the shutters and broke out my stash.
The moon on the cape and the silence of the cove
Took a toke and stared out at the objects below.
When, what to my reddening eyes should appear,
But a glimpse of Mobile Madness, and eight kegs of beer.
I blinked the horrible vision away real quick,
Closed the shutters and lied “It must’ve been St Nick”.
More rapid than eagles this bud packed a kick ,
closed the drapes and thought “Man, this is some good crap!”
When all of a sudden there came a knock on the door,
Followed by another, and then another three more.
Through the peep hole oh what should my squinty eyes see?
The inebriated face of Brian Bates staring at me.
All at once my heart grew with such flutter,
He must be done with my new fish, er... excuse me, “Liquid Butter”
Opened the door and gave out the bro-hug,
He came in dripping foam dust all over my rug.
As we examined the board and each glassed on fin
SooLoo himself came a wandering in.
Followed by Holddown, Intrepid and crew,
By leaps and by bounds this crowd surely grew.
Sooloo was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And out of his fly hung his mediocre root.
A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
He squinted and grinned, and scratched at his sack.
His eyes-how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
The drool of his mouth and slurring of speech,
Let me know in an instant he was stewed like a peach.
Then in through the door came The Betty and Doc,
Betty calling us all Fags and looking for cock...
Doc had a bearded face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!
He was chubby and plump, and half lit himself,
And I laughed when I saw him, as does everyone else!
The Betty all ready for a winter’s attack,
Heard the word “toys” and dove into SooLoo’s sack...
I blinked and in came Buick and Gaz,
Arguing with each other over who was the greater spaz.
Then Foul Pete, Nasty and Smithers did add,
And in with a clammer it was the one and only John Rad!
They skated and busted ollies off of this and of that,
Pretty soon the place was trashed, just like Cat in the Hat.
Here came Fish in with his allergies and glee,
”I don’t surf anymore, allergic to wax, and got a bad knee”
The gathering arose by leaps and by bounds,
Until the gathering light of a new dawn gathered ‘round.
And out to the beach we all did pour
Save for SooLoo, who was passed out by the door.
A new swell had arrived and was pumping outside
Boards and neoprene and wax they did fly
And out the backside we all did scatter,
Barrels and nose rides as the peaks they grew fatter.
We surfed until dark, oh what a wonderful fit,
‘Cuz we usually just stand around and talk about it.
We each went our way in the draining of light,
Merry Christmas to all, and don't talk about this place.
0 comments:
Post a Comment