What's the point? Hooks and lines...

I spent Wednesday night in a Motel 6 in Oceanside and it felt like heaven. A real bed and a hot shower, good times! I was going to surf but it was pretty flat and all I had was my 6'4" which doesn't really come alive until it gets to at least chest high. Oh well, I had a good time driving up the coast, checking out spots and listening to the radio. When I got into LA I had to get to the doctor as my arm was killing me. Turns out I have a pinched/fucked up C8 nerve which has rendered my left arm semi useless. Not completely done, just in pain all day all the time. So fun. my doctor gave me a clean bill of health and says I still don't need to come in until I'm 40. Hmm, that's right around the corner, isn't it? Am I to believe that one day I'll wake up and just be in bad shape? Sounds fun. 

I took Melah and Bog out to dinner at Harold and Belle's last night and all I have to say is, "Damn, it feels good to be a creole." Perfectly good meal and then a table full of loud, drunk imbeciles sat next to us and proceeded to be as loud and annoying as humanely possible. Um, just because the President is black doesn't mean we get to act like stereotypical loud-ass niggers when we go out, does it? I dunno, I didn't get a memo regarding this type of crap. Melah thinks my family is just as loud when we're all together. I pointed out that at least our loud conversations are at least a lot more interesting, witty, and generally more fun. Jeez, I hope we don't sound as ignorant as the table next to us!

Surf time and then clean house for Sister 3's 18th b-day party. Out in the woods for a few days and everything falls to pieces...

Peace out, bitches!