DjKK Wins Wipeout Of The Year 2020

WSL Goes Hollywood With Jonah Hill

by Da Bob

“Honey, honey, call me on the telephone I know you’re movin’ out to Hollywood

With your can of tasty foam…“

Not only a Rolling Stones song from ‘72, but the best way to describe what is coming out of 2020’s World Surf League offices.

#starf*cker Yup, and the star the WSL has chosen to lose it’s virginity to is … Oscar-nominated writer, actor, director, and surfer (???) Jonah Hill!

Read More - Da Bob - YEW

Grandkids Are A Pain In My Bare Ass!

by Rusty Folks, it’s no secret that I am old enough to be a Grandparent… Yes! Rusty is the coolest Grandpa ever, to two of the most sticky sweet sand munchkins ever born into this salty world.

I love them so much, my heart literally aches - but I have doctor prescribed meds for that. To say I am a proud grandparent is an understatement. I am swollen with pride - but I have joint medication for that too.

I love these two Groms so much, that I overlook almost every mistake their clueless parents continue to make! Mistakes that continue to happen at the encouragement of my two ex-wives and current domineering spouse… aka, Da Tres Nanas… who endlessly and needlessly spoil these Little Tikes with my hard earned dinero - that is, alimony and cash (stolen, directly from my wallet).

 Yes, my love for these two Rug Rats is endless, but practical and sound. I would do anything for them, but I am also under no illusions as to how they fit into my life, my world… my rusted reality:

 They are cute… Bed wetters
 Cuddly… Playground monsters Gummy Bear eating… Nose pickers
 SpongeBob watching… TV hogs
 Go-GURT slurping… Droolers

Complete and total… Money sucking cry babes!

That I love.

But here is the biggest problem I have with this pair of Monkey Butts. Whenever they are dropped off at my casa, which is often, Da Tres Nanas have forbidden me to partake in any herbal activities… Which, I kind of understand. But, here’s the kicker folks, they have mandated that I must remain fully clothed around my precious Keiki.
 This is not what Grandpa Rusty signed up for! This was never part of the deal when I allowed my offspring to birth their own Water Bugs!

 As to the weed part of this deal. Again, I am in ‘almost’ 100% agreement that while watching two drunk toddlers, it is probably a good idea to have a clear, smoke free, mind. But having to do so fully clothed is just cruel. I spend everyday, outside of my house, conforming to society’s cotton blend rules. But I’ll be dammed if society is going to make me fashion conscious in front of my TV.

The truth is, outside of my house I mostly wear board shorts, sandals and t-shirts; an occasional aloha shirt. Yet, the moment I come home, the sandals are tossed aside, shirt ripped off… and board shorts become completely optional.

Now, as an audience member reading this, I suppose most of you are thinking, “Rusty, this is too much information. Old dudes like you, should keep their chonies on.” Wrong… I have spent of my life taking care of and pleasing other people - my parents, friends, employers, business partners, offspring, three freaking wives! - I deserve to be the king of my castle; and if I so choose, walk the halls of my suburban fortress in the buff! Even if the Grandpups are hanging around!

But Nooooo! Da “Evil” Nanas, have conspired against me; even organizing a military duty roster that ensures full 24 hour coverage of myself, at home, by at least one of these Fashionista Grannies. The three of them have sworn to my “ultra conservative” offspring to jump me with a full-length rob if any Little Boogers attempts to sneak attack my bare ass.

The truth be told, I can’t beat the Tres Nanas.

There is simply no beating the them… clothed and herb-less I shall remain around these tiny people… but rich in heart and bless in spirit they will make me.

 Now, where’s my stash, I need to burn-one-down before these little dudes show up. And, oh, I guess the Full Monty needs some camouflage!

Old Guys Rule... Through All The Pain & Medication

by Rusty

The crusty crew of surfers I normally paddle out with have had a lot to deal with lately. Many of us salt & peppered degenerates have really taken a physical beating this year. Our collective seasons of surfing have led up to... one slider replacing both knees, another to swap his calcified hip for space-age titanium and just the other day, a newly minted grandfather, to “Cheater-Five” his way to the emergency room with a dislocated hip. All of these high doses of medication and pain has caused me to seriously question one of surfing’s most marketable slogans, “Old Guys Rule!”

Do we really rule? This old guy has witnessed a significant amount of pain and must fully admit that his own personal threshold for such things is, no bueno.

After surveying a few older guys than myself these past weeks, I have discovered one common thread amongst the healthier old guys; that is, no serious, oxidized, slider has ever squeezed into one of those doomed, cotton-blend, t-shirts.

According to one ageless soul surfer - that I, as an aging grasshopper sit at the feet of - there is only one way to deal with this hex... Fire! “My grand kids love to buy me these kookie shirts and I love those little boogers,” he said with joy and pride beaming from his eyes. “I would never purposely break their little hearts, but for my own personal safety and those in the line-up around me, I torch those communist made pieces of cotton on the grill. As a sacrifice to the surf gods!” And for that sage piece of pain avoidance, I say “Amen!”

Lastly, this is for all my surf brothers who are still in traction or slightly induced comas... The hippy, hippy shakes of 1965′s “Beach Girls and the Monster” - video remix by The Copper Tones.

https://twitter.com/RustedAloha

Campaigning for Aloha

by Rusty

Face it folks… the USA is on the brink!

On the brink of what, I don’t know… but we are definitely teetering on some sort of suicidal edge.

Whether Clinton wins or Trump tweets his way into the Oval Office… We’re screw!

You may think this rusty, old dude is exaggerating, but I am not. This is my warning, to the entire surf world, “Wake up and smell the poopie water you’re paddling in!” The flow of brown crap running down stream, out of this storm of politics, is of epic proportions... And this old dude sees little hope of us ever being healthy again.

Whomever wins, neither can unite our line-ups. In fact, both candidates are complete kooks; flawed as bad as Surfline’s forecasting abilities.

The Donald reminds me of crazy lady I use to surf with at the Trestles; a lady who completely owns her nickname… Danger Women. She is an accomplished surfer, but completely reckless! Everytime she took off on an wave, you never knew what she would do or where she would go. There were countless times I found myself facing down the 9 foot plus board of Danger Woman; feeling like there was target painted right between my eyes. Sometimes when I am alone, walking down the trail to Trestles, my mind flashes back to the haunting line-ups I shared with Mrs. Danger. I still hear her grunting take offs, see her flailing arms, whipping blond hair and rippling bikini clad muscles shredding over dozens of dazed & confused paddlers… Our country cannot survive a Trump styled “Danger Woman” presidency.

While Hillary on the other hand tries to showcase a calmer, more presidential demeanor… A facade that none of us are buying. Her tangle web of lies and cons resemble the life of surfing’s most talented shysters… Miki "Da Cat" Dora. Da Cat elegantly partied his way across the globe, writing bad checks, stealing wallets, jewels, purses and passports; never admitting to any wrongdoing before skipping out to the next cinematic surf spot. HRC must of met Miki somewhere along his trail of destruction. Perhaps, she was scorned by him in the 70’s, and because of that lovers quarrel vowed to scorch the remaining earth Miki never attended to. Whomever stole Hillary’s heart needs to return it and save us from a liberal tax-n-spend destruction.

So go forth and vote my fellow Americans and please only vote once in this decentralized, yet rigged election system. Afterwards, when this campaigning marathon ends, remember the importance of Ohana. Come the morning of Wednesday, November 9th, we will all need to begin mending this nation’s wounds by extending the tolerant and loving hand of Aloha to this Ohana of Americans.

The Death of Body Surfing

I just came across a comment about Body Surfing that I had never really taken into account before...

“The surf leash broke up surfing and bodysurfing, which up to that point had been united since the beginning — wipeout, lose board, bodysurf, repeat…” — Matt Warshaw

As I think about it, this is totally, freakin’ true… The leash did squeezed the life out of bodysurfing! Read More - Da Bob - Medium

Shark Week Becomes Squalene Chum

We are only a few days away from one of the most loathsome weeks for surfers. A week of nightly TV that most of us salty, nasal drippers do everything to avoid. It happens every summer, that one week where the fun vibe in the lineup gets a bit frosty and sketchy; where freaky thoughts about oversized fish with multiple rows of sharp teeth swim through our collective domes.

It’s Shark Week on Discovery Channel. Oh, how I love this freakin’ week… Read More - Da Bob - YEW

Self Quarantine / Social Distancing

Everybody talking about... #SelfQuarantine??? #SocialDistancing??? What's the big deal? The wife and I have been quarantined from one another since she discovered @Amazonand I found @Pornhub!

Happy Birthday To... Me!

Tomorrow is my Birthday and my loving, wonderful, grown-up kids ordered me a few things online… #BirthdayPresents…

A New Cali State Park Day Pass Old School @katinusa​ Boardshorts Nat Young’s “Church of the Open Sky” and #Weed Suppositories?!?!? https://twitter.com/RustedAloha/status/1285729682051272704?s=20

https://twitter.com/RustedAloha