Same Shit, Different Beach

Don went to Mexico, so I went to La Conchita. He left a box of wine and almost a 12 pak, some eggs, the garden's lettuce, instructions for cable, and the keys to the van. Can I drive a stick! I hadn't planned on using Don's van, but now I feel compelled to at least try and drive it up and down the streets of LC. (At night, with rap music blaring.)

I'm pretty much doing everything Don does.

This morning, I took the dogs down the track and through the north tunnel to the beach trying to beat the 7:10. There were three guys out (more'n usual), fishermen. Riley had to say hi to each one. You know, sit on their feet hi. Then, I went to town for supplies. I got a coffee at the Starbucks. The line was out the door, but the people were friendly. At the fancy, new Carp Albertson's I got some corn tortillas and Hatch green chile. Albertson's is the only store I know that sells this New Mexican condiment and staple. It is the avocado of Albuquerque. I forgot my bag and paid.34 cents for a blue reusable. Carp is bagless. Ask Don about that.

Rincon was pretty flat, but the water was warm and clear. There was one chick on a stand up (she looked like the love interest from Total Recall) and she was going to town on the little cove waves. I paddled up to Indicator. Tide was low and incoming fast. I decided to make it a paddle and a one to three wave minimum. I got a perfect wave. Only knee high, but perfectly shaped and a long, easy ride--style all the way. I parked Ventura County side. Don parks SB.

It's Sunday and also summer, so big groups of bikers go down the PCH. The sound and sight is awesome. I love driving among them, too. You have to know how to drive around bikes. A lot of people don't know how. And then you have those guys who don't know how to ride bikes around cars. Lame. And it's lame times a hundred if you think I'm talking about guys in spandex with Tron hats. Geez, Santa Barbara, smack forehead here.

So, Don got me UNCHAINED, NAKED CHARDONNAY. The box is shaped like it came from a Parisian textile gift shop. Chardonnay is the Meth for women over 40. I don't know why, but especially for those middle class broads. I said "broads".

Wilson slept on my head last night. And just before bedtime Riley went nuts and assaulted my flip flop.

See teethmarks here.

Then, because I was cuddling on the couch with my "blankey" (yes, my "blankey", fuck you) I came out of the bathroom and Riley was raping my blankey in the front yard; ripping my blankey and dragging it, and rolling my blankey in the dog poo yard. I had to fight him head to head for possession. I had no intention of losing. I brought the now torn and smelly blankey, gasping for air, into the living room and placed blankey onto the couch. Wilson trotted up, created a blankey fort and quickly curled up inside, underbite aready.

Riley came bedside and Wilson growled that 'I will go psycho all over you, bitch' growl and Riley relented. Finally, I got sick of their dog drama, told Wilson 'thanks but no thanks' and took possession of my blanket. No one gets to cuddle with my blankey but me.

First day in LC.