Thursday, August 10, 2006

For the life of me I can't figure what the
attraction is with Sal Geez, his family of
many, and his stupid picnic table where
everyone wants to be seen. Color me
green with envy, but Sal sure knows how
to attract 'em week after week. People
flock to San Onofre to be seen with him,
his children, and grandchildren. Sal is
sorta' like a magnet. Beach buzz is if
Wes Williams kicks the bucket Sal takes
over the reins to the Club. Actually, it has
a nice ring to it, "Sal Geez, President San
Onofre Riding Club". I sure hope Sal adds
some 65 plus Senior Longboard heats. That
should jack up "Old Guys Rule" shirt sales.
Wow, I can see Grandpaw and Chip walking
into Ralph's with their matching 'Nofre 50th
Anniveresary Bulky Tees flipping "Shakka
Howzeet" sign. Hang Loose Brah!

Written by Blah Kimo Irwin
BRUCE SAVAGE SAND ASSOCIATES

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posted by Huevos Rancheros @ 8:52 AM   12 Comments

12 Comments:

At 11:03 AM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

How'z teeng'z Pal Sal. We loves ya. Don't die on us. Please chew your food real good, bro.

 
At 2:39 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

Shakka!
Howzeet!

 
At 3:03 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

SHAKS WADDA!

 
At 12:32 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

Say what you will about Sal and his scene, he was sorely missed yesterday. Got down to the sacred sands early and a lucky thing it was, for soon the beach was maxed-out and groaning under the weight of three groups, each more disturbing than the last. First, a massive showing by the fat, faux Hawaiians [hang loose brudda, shakka, aloha, eddie would go, etc. etc.] Then, even worse, the Dewey Weber longboard club. He has got to be bummed if he can see what is going on down here in his name. I thought Charlie didn't surf? Finally, and by far the worst, the God-awful human wave of Talega yuppies. Each massive tinted-window SUV packed with yapping dogs, snotty bamboo-breaking children, beach balls, paddle balls, tents, noisemakers, and God knows what else. Driven by an inadequate yet aggressive male [middle aged, fat, balding, pasty-white, shorts, flipflops, shades, giant straw coolie hat, freshly laundred, pressed, double-starched SOSC tank top, Hey, man, mind if I park my rig on your foot?] It is enough to make you puke. Our only hope- we need a messiah to guide us out of this mess, an honest-to-God living surf legend. The only one who fits the bill has shined us on, checked out, and won't even come down to the beach, even though he doesn't have to wait in the line.

 
At 4:04 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

What are you talking about? BK most certainly does have to wait in line!

 
At 5:27 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

Team Big Kook don't know Joe Crapp. The real Messiah is TUBESTEAK/MALIBU,
however, hid plate is full with new Mag stuff, but he will return when the
"coast is clear".

 
At 10:10 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

Thank God for that! Hope springs eternal. Team Big Kook is not the Messiah, but his importance as the first line of defense is clear. Long live the Kook! I was about to shine the whole deal, sell my stick, buy a jet ski, innertube, head for the river with Tut. Now I'm going to hang on, wait for the Messiah. Hallalujah! One God, one country, one Rib Trader, one suspender, ...

 
At 9:38 AM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

Whiskey, love your style. You're right, THEKOOK is over.

 
At 10:57 AM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

Yes, finally. Big Kook is done, somebody stick a fork in him--PLEASE!

 
At 10:07 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

big kook is far from over. the latest sighting was at the aussie pub with a coupla babes drinking vodka collins. he might not be able to walk but he sure can crawl.

 
At 8:43 AM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

CRAWLIN'

 
At 9:56 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

You better start swimming or you'll sink like a stone 'cause the times they are a changing.

 

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