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KillahBee
New member
A few quick thoughts about my vacation to San Diego. But first, to Lestat and Sorearms, sorry dudes, plans changed so I was unable to get together with either of you. The friend I was visiting ended up being underway (out at sea, he's in the Navy) for almost the entire time we were there, so plans shifted. Also, I only hang out with Italians, you cracker ass cracker and Goya beans eating landscaper, respectively. Second, San Diego may be paradise on earth. Maybe it's cause I am an East Coaster (although I've been to Cali before), but this place is just unreal. The weather (that's right, I'm talkin about the weather now assnuts) is beyond perfect - I actually laid in the blistering sun for hours without sweating. The beaches are perfect, the Bay is perfect (Mission Bay), the surf is great, the people are pretty nice, and the girls - MY GOD THE GIRLS! Every two feet is a fit, tan, blonde. It's insane.
A few highlights:
- I almost (ALMOST) slept with a 16 year old, who may have been the hottest girl I have ever seen (granted, she was probably a dime a dozen out there). I didn't know she was 16 until consumation almost occurred. Seriously, I didn't sleep with her. I deserve something for that. (PM me if you want to know what really happened)
- I got thrown out of a bar for urinating in the middle of the dance floor, then forcing some random girl to "punch me in the face as hard as you can". Yeah, classin it up.
- Some things happened with me, my friend, and his skanky girlfriend that I cannot talk about in public. (I am talking about intercourse - penis and vagina)
- In some surreal mix of real life and fiction, I ended up in Mexico. I was Pacific Beach in San Diego basking in the sun reading a book called "In Search of Captain Zero". Brief synopsis: it is a true story about a surfer from Long Island that sold all his possessions and traveled in a winnebago (klu, can you help me out with the spelling on this one?) south, in search of his best friend for most of his life that had taken off without telling anyone years ago. It was sort of a soul-searching adventure in pursuit of the perfect break (wave) and the perfect little no-name town in South America to escape the plastic world that we live in now, bla bla bla. Anyway, it was a great read. As I am reading it on the beach, some random surfer dude (older guy, mid thirties maybe) starts talking to me about the book and telling me that he knows a few of the people mentioned in the book. We get to shootin the shit about surfing and Cali and Mexico and the book, and before you know it, I am in a truck with this guy, another dood, and some chick on our way to some no-name little town in Mexico on our own little adventure (I still don't know the name of the town!). Very, very weird shit.
That last bullet point was the main reason I couldn't hook up with Lestat or Chico (I'll be out there again in Dec for work - holla). GREAT vacation, crazy times, did some good for the ol' dome piece. I don't know why the entire country doesn't move to San Diego though - it's that perfect.
A few highlights:
- I almost (ALMOST) slept with a 16 year old, who may have been the hottest girl I have ever seen (granted, she was probably a dime a dozen out there). I didn't know she was 16 until consumation almost occurred. Seriously, I didn't sleep with her. I deserve something for that. (PM me if you want to know what really happened)
- I got thrown out of a bar for urinating in the middle of the dance floor, then forcing some random girl to "punch me in the face as hard as you can". Yeah, classin it up.
- Some things happened with me, my friend, and his skanky girlfriend that I cannot talk about in public. (I am talking about intercourse - penis and vagina)
- In some surreal mix of real life and fiction, I ended up in Mexico. I was Pacific Beach in San Diego basking in the sun reading a book called "In Search of Captain Zero". Brief synopsis: it is a true story about a surfer from Long Island that sold all his possessions and traveled in a winnebago (klu, can you help me out with the spelling on this one?) south, in search of his best friend for most of his life that had taken off without telling anyone years ago. It was sort of a soul-searching adventure in pursuit of the perfect break (wave) and the perfect little no-name town in South America to escape the plastic world that we live in now, bla bla bla. Anyway, it was a great read. As I am reading it on the beach, some random surfer dude (older guy, mid thirties maybe) starts talking to me about the book and telling me that he knows a few of the people mentioned in the book. We get to shootin the shit about surfing and Cali and Mexico and the book, and before you know it, I am in a truck with this guy, another dood, and some chick on our way to some no-name little town in Mexico on our own little adventure (I still don't know the name of the town!). Very, very weird shit.
That last bullet point was the main reason I couldn't hook up with Lestat or Chico (I'll be out there again in Dec for work - holla). GREAT vacation, crazy times, did some good for the ol' dome piece. I don't know why the entire country doesn't move to San Diego though - it's that perfect.
