<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983227652254084029</id><updated>2011-07-07T14:26:28.370-07:00</updated><category term='I am here'/><title type='text'>BOI+LA</title><subtitle type='html'>my move and adjustment into LA</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2983227652254084029/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>surftheconcrete</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='13' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/THtoxQ0XNpI/AAAAAAAAApY/Vjq_plW2wDs/S220/Free+Mustache.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>16</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983227652254084029.post-3033388407253276908</id><published>2009-09-29T20:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T20:42:11.470-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mijn eerste vriend</title><content type='html'>He didn't know her and nor did she. The were aged something and worldly blind. He had grown his first muscle and she prayed for the same. Day by day they could see each other change, but that didn't necessarily mean they did. His window was an easy two feat above her's and her breasts were beginning to blush. Since he could remember, they were the closest of friends and then middle school started. The start of occurred, the start of impatience, the start of who cares besides everyone. Had his parents told him everyone was in the same predicament as he, things might have ended out different, instead they didn't and things turned out how they did. He would watch with his friends and she would model with hers. Every day after Math was the same. Her skirt would hike their eyes would turn. He would quietly heckle and her skirt would ride. As her skin became more pale he would go blind and the bell would ring. As the drowning sound of that bell faded He and Her would be left to dare. She always broke first. He would patently await down the hall of her locked cubby. This was her area, a spot he longed to be. To have a picture, to have purpose, to be welcomed. What might everything he longed for become if he opened to her on how he felt.. She was more than he could imagine, and she, all he could. The day that would disrupt their sinless dance was coming and it would be sudden. She longed for him to approach, he longed to worthy. His figure, his demeanor, his ability. He was a dream and the possibility to be true was something that could be found. Dreams die with the bat of an eye, and this dream would now leave. She was to move and what could come from here?  Besides a new address for her a new dream would never come. This was her parents fault and they did this to her. They did this to Him. It was before the AM when all 16 wheels arrived, he waited down the block she in her window, Box by box two hearts sank. With every piece of furniture they grew more discomfort. Life was working opposite and continually. She as did he wanted a common ground, a no mans land to meet, a spot where two could possibly recognize their bond. The last she saw from him was trough a moving window pane. Pain was what would be until she forgot. He would be different, until he gave up. She never did.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2983227652254084029-3033388407253276908?l=surftheconcrete.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/feeds/3033388407253276908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2983227652254084029&amp;postID=3033388407253276908' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2983227652254084029/posts/default/3033388407253276908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2983227652254084029/posts/default/3033388407253276908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/2009/09/mijn-eerste-vriend.html' title='Mijn eerste vriend'/><author><name>surftheconcrete</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='13' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/THtoxQ0XNpI/AAAAAAAAApY/Vjq_plW2wDs/S220/Free+Mustache.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983227652254084029.post-4699440852367437466</id><published>2009-09-26T09:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T01:53:43.534-07:00</updated><title type='text'>rundt om i verden, før vi faldt i kærlighed</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/Sr8n7fpbvAI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/qsAZm-jr4QI/s1600-h/192.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/Sr8n7fpbvAI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/qsAZm-jr4QI/s320/192.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386067582419450882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well this is it my friend. The road we have come to know has finally run out. The dust is settled and horizon clear. Never in my wildest dreams did I think we would come to this. After all that has come up and finally out we can fall back on the single notion that life has brought us here. The dinner parties, late night talks, freezing cold showers, and lets not forget the wind storms.  The caravans, the self guided tours, over  priced museums, terrible coffee, cheep hash, bad prunes, month long hotel stays, nudest resorts, burnt toast, screaming children, winding train rides, sun sets on the beach, toes in the sand. Wind in our hair, dust in our eyes, fire in our hearts, absinthe in our blood, joy in our soul. Rugby matches, camel races, snake charmers, fish eyes, bruised and battered, and too much salt. A blur it has all become and how fun it all was. Lets not forget the Lions, Giraffes, Hippos, Ostriches, Roaches, Whales, Penguins, Bears, Deer, Oxen,  Birds, Birds, and more Birds. And some where in there I think we rode upon a couple of Elephants. From ocean to ocean and basin to summit. Our feet carried us the entire way except that month in the East where exhaustion led to bed rest. The meditation, the hours of prayer, the fasts, the feasts, the continental breakfasts. Motor scooters, bicycles, trains, planes, boats, canoes, rickshaws, and automobiles. Bartering prices, running form the law, missing all forms of tea time, being detained, soccer riots, political protests, airport security, customs, drunk tanks, opera tickets, balcony seats, valet parking, missing items, dirty hostels, language barriers, late nights, early mornings, cotton mouth, chapped lips, loose stool, goose bumps, head aches, nausea, bottles of aspirin, and lets not forget the, smiles, frowns, tears, sweat, blood, laughs, cries, stutters, gasps, and most of all silence. Its been a fun one but I must admit, along this winding and ever-wandering road I would have never thought "our" arrest would be for late fee's on rented videos. The west was tough, but not as much as the east. How fun it was to dodge the law based on the silly billy notion of having a Lawyer. Shame on life, that a monthly premium can buy you a friend. Whoever they are I hope they fight for us; and well, after what they can filter through, I hope they remember the idea of a soul-unity making way through what is deemed life. The sun will set after we forget. Just kidding I love you more than "so much". See  you for a drink on Tuesday. If not; the following Tuesday would be great.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2983227652254084029-4699440852367437466?l=surftheconcrete.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/feeds/4699440852367437466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2983227652254084029&amp;postID=4699440852367437466' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2983227652254084029/posts/default/4699440852367437466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2983227652254084029/posts/default/4699440852367437466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/2009/09/rundt-om-i-verden-fr-vi-faldt-i.html' title='rundt om i verden, før vi faldt i kærlighed'/><author><name>surftheconcrete</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='13' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/THtoxQ0XNpI/AAAAAAAAApY/Vjq_plW2wDs/S220/Free+Mustache.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/Sr8n7fpbvAI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/qsAZm-jr4QI/s72-c/192.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983227652254084029.post-2391767390216994543</id><published>2009-07-22T20:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T21:18:34.465-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Zwitserse horloge maker</title><content type='html'>It was 8:45 am when I heard the knock. I thought to myself who in the hell could that be. That thought immediately left my head when that front door opened. Almost like I should have known, there he was. All six feet of him with hands clasped. His eyes were worn as if in defeat. I wasted no time at all to invite him in. This was the last of the many mistakes I made with him. I took his coat and he began to talk. It would be several hours until he stopped, for some reason I wish he would have never. He started with a heartfelt apology, which had probably been rehearsed on several cocktail napkins. His words smelled of bourbon and I could taste the salt in his tears. But once again I took him in. "Woman I have wronged you too many times" he sullenly squealed. His cowboy chatter would begin to pour even more. Working in my practice I have seen countless people at the end of their rope however the man before me was long dead. Time had been all but kind to him. His demons had all caught up and the noose he adorned as a neck tie looked unbearably tight. Besides the freezing cold stare he had I will never forget those hands and they clasped mine. They used to fit so perfect only now it was obvious who's hands had worn through. As I tried to pull my hands from his he only grasped tighter and fell to his knees. He crumpled before me and wept like a child. His snot and tears were uncomfortably warm on my thighs. He coughed and cried and like a summer storm it was suddenly over. He sharply stood up before me and removed from his waist the pocket watch I gave him and the hand gun I left him over. His eyes shimmered a hint of rage and then back to that cold stare. His hands knotted around my hair as he yanked my head back. The feel of that barrel on my temple was all too familiar. I wanted to cry, I wanted to scream, I wanted to get away. He effortlessly tossed me aside and stormed out the front door. I laid on the coarse carpet and will never forget that lonely POP. I don't know what pushed me to look out that front door. Maybe it was the idea that he was at peace now and I could be as well. My father was dead at 59. How he loved that watch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2983227652254084029-2391767390216994543?l=surftheconcrete.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/feeds/2391767390216994543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2983227652254084029&amp;postID=2391767390216994543' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2983227652254084029/posts/default/2391767390216994543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2983227652254084029/posts/default/2391767390216994543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/2009/07/zwitserse-horloge-maker.html' title='Zwitserse horloge maker'/><author><name>surftheconcrete</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='13' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/THtoxQ0XNpI/AAAAAAAAApY/Vjq_plW2wDs/S220/Free+Mustache.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983227652254084029.post-6119588618244579350</id><published>2009-07-22T19:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T19:33:05.538-07:00</updated><title type='text'>totdat we elkaar weer ontmoeten</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/SmfLr77K0PI/AAAAAAAAAEI/jr8YnE2DUSM/s1600-h/Sky+1+copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 112px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/SmfLr77K0PI/AAAAAAAAAEI/jr8YnE2DUSM/s320/Sky+1+copy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361477837088542962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When asked if I would come and speak I originally said to my self no. It was for the most selfish reasons I could possibly think of. I couldn't face the fact of time. That time had run out and the last we spoke was exactly that, the last. We met when we were children and that first afternoon we spent together I knew we would some day be very much in love. As they say the rest is history, and in a very shameful remorse I have no choice but to agree. The years were too kind for us, however we were not kind in return. How do you celebrate a life that no one could possibly understand. The layered complexity of issues disguised by one of the brightest smiles the world has ever seen. What happened between us that afternoon I will never exactly understand, but one thing is true and that is, the love I have for that afternoon will forever carry me to sleep. When we have to face the passing of a loved one we grieve and search for any form of solace, and it is with in this we must find the true love that brought us together. To be completely honest I wrote this on the flight here, and as I began to miss her more and more all I wanted was to hold her once again. The feeling of compassion and bliss, are all but forgotten, however are now too distant. With in this I ask Why? Why must we push away from what we owe every bit of happiness to? I can honestly say, this will be me no more. Every inch of me wishes I could have truly been there that afternoon. I ask you all to join me in the remembrance of a Mother, Daughter, Sister, and most of all a great friend. As I lay you into the ground I will forever find you in the clouds. You can only have one first love and I am forever thankful it was you. I will correct myself on what was just said, I cannot use the word "was". You are my only love, you are already missed. Until the next time we align. Let us all celebrate this wonderful woman. Thank you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2983227652254084029-6119588618244579350?l=surftheconcrete.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/feeds/6119588618244579350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2983227652254084029&amp;postID=6119588618244579350' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2983227652254084029/posts/default/6119588618244579350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2983227652254084029/posts/default/6119588618244579350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/2009/07/totdat-we-elkaar-weer-ontmoeten.html' title='totdat we elkaar weer ontmoeten'/><author><name>surftheconcrete</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='13' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/THtoxQ0XNpI/AAAAAAAAApY/Vjq_plW2wDs/S220/Free+Mustache.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/SmfLr77K0PI/AAAAAAAAAEI/jr8YnE2DUSM/s72-c/Sky+1+copy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983227652254084029.post-257585654720671880</id><published>2009-07-06T10:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T11:36:43.576-07:00</updated><title type='text'>pijn in plezier</title><content type='html'>It was 4:30 am when Ruth awoke. Rain consumed her ear drums, the roof was leaking like ants marching one-by-one. Solitude and loneliness were the first friends to greet her. Each morning seemed harder than the first. He had been dead for 6 years, 3 months, 24 days, 18 hours, and 41 minutes. He was not coming back. She slipped out of bed and into his robe. Yesterday was the last time she wore the robe. Today she promised would be the last. The creeks of the floor boards acknowledged her sad shuffle. Like the day before, the kitchen was 15 steps, 15 steps to the first feelings of being alive. This was the hardest part of her solemn mornings. The daily battle between when her eyes open and the next time they would close. As she grasped he coffee cup it was understood she would never come to. Tears began to well, the darkness of the kitchen blurred. As her back collapsed into the wall the tears fell. Her body convulsed and once again like the days, weeks, and years before, she would find her naked body concealed by his robe alone on the dusty kitchen floor. This morning was different, the pain was like nothing she had ever felt. Was this what her life was to be? Ravened and destroyed were her innards. The ulcers hugged her daily. He was never coming back. Who would find her. Would it be eventually or would it be sudden. No children no family. The only thing that stood between her and the gates was that Jade plant. The one thing that stopped her every day. Starring from the floor to the dark rainy windowsill she could make out the silhouette of her Jade. His Jade, their Jade. Pulling her self to the window she starred into her asylum. The soft green attitude calmed her racing heart. The tears still fell, but she wasn't as manic. This Jade took her edge off. But it would never truly save her. She could see him in the windowpane, his face was so soft, how she ached to feel that skin. Hold his warmth. To have passion. Her widowed hands squeezed that bright orange pot. She was found, he was lost. It would be several hours until this, but she knew it was coming. The dusty floorboards creaked in encouragement. Pushing her and that Jade further and further. She sat on the edge of their bed with the plant in lap. Fumbling through the drawer in the rainy darkness she found what she was looking for. Out of the six gadgets it possessed she had chosen her sanctuary long ago. A light flick of her calloused fingers her decision glistened in the dreary moon light. As she began to selfishly prune the tears stopped. The cool trickle of life was found with in. She had lunch with Rita today, Rita had a key. She was found. As the last bit of pruning was coming to a close so did her eyes. She laid back into their bed and awaited the gates. Rita would later call to cancel their lunch plans. Ruth would not be found for days. The rain never stopped.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2983227652254084029-257585654720671880?l=surftheconcrete.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/feeds/257585654720671880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2983227652254084029&amp;postID=257585654720671880' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2983227652254084029/posts/default/257585654720671880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2983227652254084029/posts/default/257585654720671880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/2009/07/pijn-in-plezier.html' title='pijn in plezier'/><author><name>surftheconcrete</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='13' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/THtoxQ0XNpI/AAAAAAAAApY/Vjq_plW2wDs/S220/Free+Mustache.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983227652254084029.post-8355139312365563695</id><published>2009-07-05T12:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T12:56:34.840-07:00</updated><title type='text'>grootvader</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/SlEFX1y0MKI/AAAAAAAAAEA/81fd5QoM7AU/s1600-h/DSCN0176.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 186px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/SlEFX1y0MKI/AAAAAAAAAEA/81fd5QoM7AU/s320/DSCN0176.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355067339055575202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brown eyes, Blue eyes, Green one's too. The too is for also, and you are certainly   included. All in one shuffle, the walking path is corroded. No longer is the summit in view. Clouds shift, rain falls, plans change. This open air tastes stale. The sheep have wandered further than the reaches of any Sheppard or rapist. To come back is to reach the summit. Were to turn around? Where to park? Where to stop searching? Answers fallow in suit with questions, sentences combine to make paragraphs. Paragraphs flow to the drain. Examination is used to discover, upon this we are clogged. Consume, Digest, Clog. The flush is for the flow of continuance. Our sensory/social perspective and influence is under constant attack, this is our body wars. Bombardment like the bombing of London. The children have left and the parents are dead. This promotion is for the both of us. But mostly for your father. Boy is he proud of his force fed graduate. Raised on the grass of society. Clock in Punch out. Another crowded food court falls victim. The Uzi has a Bachelors Degree, and loves the music of the Eagles. Now no more and neither is Stacy. It took one stray bullet and now, two orphans. One can sing the other is a mute. Raised on grief and habitual hugs. Foster and leave. Adopted for the absence of children, a dream never to be lived, now a facade of children waiting to run. But to where? The summit is clouded. What wind must we create to actualize and clear our summits? The answer is not clearly defined nor should it be. This interstate is forever ours, the most important is not to get lost. Stray as you must but arm your self. Knowledge, patience, and music. The up most essentials for any straying tour. Duty if we must but only through obligation. The obligation to obscurity soon to be mainstream. Awake to occupy; the mind, heart,and lies. Shuffling to play bridge with tarot cards. Dearest Kate, I am writing you because Stacy is dead, and it is time we reconnect. We used to pray that we would never meet. Remembrance of us will for ever be happy, brushing your hair as you sat beneath me, only once did every strand align, and that night grandfather died. We should have never met, nor loved. You make me ashamed and for this I love you more. Do not call, do not write, the key is under the front mat. Please, let yourself out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2983227652254084029-8355139312365563695?l=surftheconcrete.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/feeds/8355139312365563695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2983227652254084029&amp;postID=8355139312365563695' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2983227652254084029/posts/default/8355139312365563695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2983227652254084029/posts/default/8355139312365563695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/2009/07/grootvader.html' title='grootvader'/><author><name>surftheconcrete</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='13' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/THtoxQ0XNpI/AAAAAAAAApY/Vjq_plW2wDs/S220/Free+Mustache.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/SlEFX1y0MKI/AAAAAAAAAEA/81fd5QoM7AU/s72-c/DSCN0176.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983227652254084029.post-7488709751178029268</id><published>2009-03-11T22:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T00:17:44.548-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Take Home Entertainment</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/Sbi0Vnq3O_I/AAAAAAAAAD4/DPxBpRsxM8Y/s1600-h/n510776199_1602827_4599706.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 308px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/Sbi0Vnq3O_I/AAAAAAAAAD4/DPxBpRsxM8Y/s400/n510776199_1602827_4599706.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312194044002515954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sit here in the great debate. The debate of what is what, who is who, and why exists as why.  What is the constant search of understanding that flows through our bones day by day. In life we occupy ourselves with means of expression and release, a sum up as an outlet. If this is our means of release why in the common sense must it be a source of power. Is it for the input of energy, focus, and dedication as a combining concoction of feel good, our release creates our drive? Is this drive the motion for which we breath and our heart beats. We all dream and desire on a daily basis and for too many, they are never set into this rhythmic motion of desire and dedication. The effort is lost, the love is broken and replaced with the new medium of mental flirtation. It is within the act&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt;on and decision to realize and actualize the momentum and power that resides in each and every one of us. There is never a wrong decision as long as ONE is made. There are wrong motives and outcomes, but there is never anything more severe that to sever from your drive and sett&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;L&lt;/span&gt;e for anything less that what you are capable. Does physical exertion feel good for the stress it releases, the mental ramifications it carries, or the energy it creates? If you have the power within to create energy than this must be in some form the power behind your dreams and desires. I revel in the understanding that nothing shall be truly handed to anyone. in some way, shape, and form, an exchange of energy must occur. An exchange if you will, a hand to hand, brain to brain, computer to computer intersection. For it is with in this realm that our consciousness is opened and closed, and the path &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;O&lt;/span&gt;n which our drive takes us comes into sight. This path, this decision, this enlightenment is ours and ours alone and the results, good and bad are all obstacles for the steering. The action taken to do something out of the norm comes with a consequence and a new direction. Is this break of norm a true severance from the path that has been exchanged and chosen through your thoughts and actions; or is it a detour among the chosen path of fate and temptation.  The Banket of comfort we wea&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;V&lt;/span&gt;e is a shield for the distractions and jabs of life, the common understanding of SHIT. Is our blanket a disguise or a cloak. We all have walls and barri&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;E&lt;/span&gt;rs for the world, its what these walls protect that is our stock pile of fuel for the fire that drives our desires. To fulfill your desires the love for your own self must be of relevance and priority.  If we all push for our greatest out come in life, what could possibl&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Y&lt;/span&gt; measure the importance and significance of our achievements. Simply put, the measurement for every comparison in life is the excitement for the chance to out do the last experience. All in all, What is What, Who is Who, and Why is Why, is all piled into &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;O&lt;/span&gt;ur addictive natures. We are all addicts of our observer, our conscious/unconscious view and interpreted understanding of the life we live, dream, and create. May the best day of yo&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;U&lt;/span&gt;r past be the worst day of your future. All in &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;ALL&lt;/span&gt; this is Take Home Entertainment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2983227652254084029-7488709751178029268?l=surftheconcrete.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/feeds/7488709751178029268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2983227652254084029&amp;postID=7488709751178029268' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2983227652254084029/posts/default/7488709751178029268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2983227652254084029/posts/default/7488709751178029268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-sit-here-in-great-debate.html' title='Take Home Entertainment'/><author><name>surftheconcrete</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='13' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/THtoxQ0XNpI/AAAAAAAAApY/Vjq_plW2wDs/S220/Free+Mustache.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/Sbi0Vnq3O_I/AAAAAAAAAD4/DPxBpRsxM8Y/s72-c/n510776199_1602827_4599706.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983227652254084029.post-3900902560842051482</id><published>2009-01-04T17:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T18:10:52.421-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Thousand Fine</title><content type='html'>Days turn into weeks, weeks into months, months to years, and what do the final accumulation of days, weeks, months, and years mean. Life? Your story, your existence, your voice. And what is all of this for? So much, so little. The curiosity of the life we live. The fear that holds some back and pushes others forward. And for what, is it personal acclamation and praise? Or is it the satisfaction of others we seek? What ever may be the answer and destination, what is this all for? How does one pick up, adjust, and start new. And within that idea at what point does the comfort come about to bring this being back and forth from reality to current experience of reality. The separation and distance is one factor. The other and uncontrollable factor is time. We cannot fight this we can only embrace and learn. Patience is a virtue I enjoy, however the best glory one can pull from the driving force of our lives that is time, is to understand and recognize what it brings and takes away, We all must hold ourselves accountable. This is required. For those that fail and beat down others for their shortcomings will never understand their failure. The dirt of gossip cakes the face. Thicker and thicker. The best removal is the removal of self from this area. For those that search for praise from others the removal of gossip from one’s life is the first step. The first of many in this path of time that creates our story. Those that search for praise form within, the area of gossip would be assumed easy to leave. This can’t be. To let go, leave, withdraw from the party on inclusion, start anew. This life style and desire that we call friendship, love, companionship, is a mere illusion for the friendship, love, and companionship we have with our own self. This understanding is the current idea that I have found the most recent dose of happiness in. For to be happy and blessed with you as this worldly observer is the ability to manifest your reality and the positive and powerful observers you will find along the way. A slump of depression is a low we all know. Some know it more than others, for it’s this recognition that is critical. Physics teaches us that a positive attracts a negative, this is proven to be true however is unrelated to the power of positivity within one’s self. What you emulate from your reality to be interpreted in the realities of others is what you attract and desire. Higher Value is one key to admiration. But is admiration the driving force behind friendship? The people you surround yourself with you search for similarities that builds attraction between the two observers.  Is this what we search for? Does your view and opinion of your closest counter point (BFF) match their interpretation of you? Is this why we aim to please. Sacrifice and celebrate the knowing of another. All for the desire to be desired. Within the illusion of others and our self, what creates a severance and rift between two. Is it the sudden halt or destruction of admiration? We as people are built as pleasers. We strive and push for acceptance and recognition. So what causes us to go against our nature in a counter point situation? No longer searching from recognition, searching for anything but the norm. A destruction of emotional investments.  A clean slate, a removal of understanding, a new trajectory towards illumination and enlightenment. All of which rides on the surface of time. And once again where do we go and what do we do with this. If time is all we have and all it allows is our interpretation. Than that is what we must do, interpret. Understand what time brings and takes. For years I desired and eventually was answered. Then my desire was removed from the fashion I wanted, however remained in my story of life as a different being. Another lesson to learn, patience and understanding must be the Doctorate of life. In Our journey as observers these virtues are taught over and over again, and for what. When and how do we cash in on our life account? Or is this a continual withdrawal. Whatever it maybe, All of the lesions taught and learned comes with a tag along. And this tag along as an observer must be recognized as a decision. Witch returns into the notion that we must be accountable. Everything we do is based upon a decision. To buy those shoes, to have another drink, to talk to that man or woman. As rational thinkers and beings we must understand the decisions we make and the possible outcomes they bring. Within all of this remains the continuance of accountability. Is this the key to your happiness? Understanding that you are accountable to the life you live. And the feelings you create. I find this true. Let’s practice this. Understand what and why you are doing such and follow what it brings. I will lead by example. I am about to fully embark on this adventure. It was my decision and most importantly, my action within it and on it that has brought me to this point. Weather I am ready or not, one foot must lead and the other can only follow. Like a child hugging the leg of their father and riding his feet, I welcome all to grab on and pick a foot. However the decision and accountability is yours. Will you ride the first foot or the one that follows? I love you all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2983227652254084029-3900902560842051482?l=surftheconcrete.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/feeds/3900902560842051482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2983227652254084029&amp;postID=3900902560842051482' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2983227652254084029/posts/default/3900902560842051482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2983227652254084029/posts/default/3900902560842051482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/2009/01/two-thousand-fine.html' title='Two Thousand Fine'/><author><name>surftheconcrete</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='13' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/THtoxQ0XNpI/AAAAAAAAApY/Vjq_plW2wDs/S220/Free+Mustache.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983227652254084029.post-6050952757552398266</id><published>2008-11-08T19:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T20:45:28.172-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Barf.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/SRZqzeXV5hI/AAAAAAAAACw/a4qQqHe9bwQ/s1600-h/20081103_IMG_0088.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 272px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/SRZqzeXV5hI/AAAAAAAAACw/a4qQqHe9bwQ/s400/20081103_IMG_0088.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266514246813214226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel sick. I just feel rotten inside. My hands are clammy, my forehead is the same, and my stomach is a million miles an hour. Apprehensive and scared. Its all about to happen, its like August all over again. I awake and soon it comes. Nervous, bored, and all around confused. Another day of dulling the pain, of ignoring the dreams. Its not that I pity my self, I think its the lonesome crowded west for lack there of a better term,that is taking over. My visit to Boise was a good experience however a lot surfaced for me. Friends, family, mistakes, short comings, achievements soon to be lost, and most of all addiction. A whirlwind of feelings, entering me in the most dizzying fashion. And in an instant I am back in LA. The week flew by and here we go again. I tell my self over and over to get aggressive and meet people and at the least to make an effort to live. But right after I awake it sets in. The sickness the debilitating pain that tweaks my nerves and rattles my bones. It cant all be bad? Can it? Who cares move on, chin and chest up, face the fucking day. Its not that easy. I know one thing is for sure that I took from Boise. My life with women. My entire life the closest person to me has been my sister. I feel like we hit a riff at some point however the admiration and appreciation is still there. The communication is different. I think of the other women in my life I have always tried to be a foundation and figure of support. I go for a while and at some point I back out. Only to reveal that my figurative foundation rotted away long ago. In many cases with women of my life/past I have ran as hard as I could away from them. For some I felt guilt and for others I felt no remorse. I had made an effort with a woman to keep some sort of friendship intact. We both agreed that we didn't want to walk away from what we had as only physical and that we should hold on to the attraction that brought us together in the first place and build with it. This is all falling through. It became one sided. Very little effort on her part to combat my honest effort to keep in touch. I think a lot has to do with her honesty in the situation. She may have a busy life, but you can feel it when someone drops you from their thoughts. I guess the most frustrating part is I have tried to keep this woman from becoming the figurative notch in my belt. I guess what frustrates me most, is I really tried to be myself with her. I let her in. I really let her in past my walls. I guess I am scared that what she saw was ugly and that's why she runs. So fun how life works its lessons. I can think of several moments of lying to my self to support a mental image that looks better than how I feel. It always catches up. I want to be great in life the first step is feeling that way. Its the old practice what you preach. Every morning I stand on my balcony 25 stories above LA and look out. Day by day I stand closer and closer to the edge. Its been a process to even step out there. My fear of heights shines through my eyeballs. Its a nauseating feeling looking over the edge and thinking about your stomach meeting your throat as you fall. No one has ever been killed by jumping off a building. Its the sudden impact that kills you. That is when  I head inside. Too much gloom and doom.  Another side of my life has been a story. This has surfaced a lot over the month of October. Through acting exercises I was repeatedly force to become comfortable and show myself. It was a very weird feeling. As long as I can remember I have always been on the move. Searching for people to befriend and families to live through. I can vividly remember accepting my plans for my self. To be anyone and anything. There was nothing I could not do or be. I feel that this is still true, only if you live this way you start to surround yourself with people who see through it. You must actually be this inside. You can fool the foolish but will never be praised by the inspiration that you strive to be. Life is about to take off or so I am told. I am ready to run, really I want to be productive. I am scared. I have cancer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2983227652254084029-6050952757552398266?l=surftheconcrete.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/feeds/6050952757552398266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2983227652254084029&amp;postID=6050952757552398266' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2983227652254084029/posts/default/6050952757552398266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2983227652254084029/posts/default/6050952757552398266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/2008/11/barf.html' title='Barf.'/><author><name>surftheconcrete</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='13' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/THtoxQ0XNpI/AAAAAAAAApY/Vjq_plW2wDs/S220/Free+Mustache.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/SRZqzeXV5hI/AAAAAAAAACw/a4qQqHe9bwQ/s72-c/20081103_IMG_0088.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983227652254084029.post-2683293910511188533</id><published>2008-10-04T03:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T23:28:00.132-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One foot than the Other</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/SOsBYg_-N4I/AAAAAAAAAB8/IlE34ypgslI/s1600-h/qUESTION.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254294910944556930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/SOsBYg_-N4I/AAAAAAAAAB8/IlE34ypgslI/s400/qUESTION.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;OK, confession It is the third draft. So much but so little has happened I am not sure where to start. I did make it back to Boise for a weekend. The arrival, to the departure felt surreal with a dabble of butterflies. I returned back to LA viewing it in two chunks. Thank you dear friends for the hospitality and energy. I departed early Tuesday morning with a few hours rest and an empty stomach. Really. I recounted the day prior searching for for the registered meals in the day and found nothing but a Turkey sandwich purchased from Hugo's Deli. I was fucking empty. A quick Taxi, 12oz of Ginger ale, and 6 episodes of Entourage later I was in LA.For a seemingly brief afternoon. Which did promptly follow. Gym, dinner, and sleep. I next awoke to the freshest Wednesday I have ever felt. It was 4:18 pm exactly when I came to. I use that phrase only because its how I felt. I woke up from a deep sleep. With a clean slate to be stained. The pains, the worry, the self indulgence felt at ease, more so fed. In the 24+ hours of hibernation and the re-wire of hard wired mind frames I somehow emerged ready and rejuvenated to take whats next. It worked. Boise fucking worked. A weekend I planed for the much needed refocus into my present, worked. I guess the smile strikes my face for the personal benefit. I got what I wanted from my visit. LA seems to be coming around. The weeks have a swift pace to them its all a matter of time. I feel as if I repeat that notion over and over to my self. In due time all will come, all will happen. Its fun to face aspirations greater than yourself, to see how you can actualize your reality. I am one individual with vibrational frequencies to mach my desires. That wait, the uncontrolled frame of time is an aspect dreaded at times and famished at others. All in all I want success not so much monetarily or fame, more so for the accomplishment. To know your worthy to know your OK. Every morning is the same for us. We all place our feet on some sort of surface when we wake. To remember that, is to ground yourself in your capabilities. As time wiggles through your grip all to do is sift what you can from it and look to the ever developing future for more. Like a hungry stomach awaiting dinner. Its about filling your plate and taking some to-go. I have created something new in myself in the past weeks. I don't feel fear towards failure, I guess it can be summed up as respect. I am grounded in my life by the ability to make good and do good in the chaos that surrounds. The thought of starting a life for myself that I could have the chance to do good for others close to me is a driving factor. This is not a dream but a soon reality. Letting go is by no means easy but with a little fuel to the fire even the tightest grip will release. My experience in my return to Boise was the perfect source. I am calmed by the fact that my energy and focus is steadily shifting to my location and into my reality. The days will soon be filled. My shoulders feel strong and ready for demand and abuse. I have always been one to view my surroundings no matter what my be as an audience. This is so coming into play as I have started an acting course. The class is very refreshing. Its great to be around people let alone talking with them. I am such a vibrant individual that feeds off of interaction I am not surprised by the release this class has been for me. A big reminder to the life I have led and the need to perform and the need to be something other than Gregory. My whole life I have been so many different people and it all seems to have been culminating for a reason and a release. In the brief time thus far I have had the opportunity to participate rather than observe in class I have felt alive. Not necessarily the feeling you get from a rollercoaster or feeling your own freshly pressed drivers license for the first time. The retreat of pressure in your forehead and the pains in your body from a hangover. That was what I felt. That sudden recognition that your alright and you will live. I sat in a chair repeating line after line in an exercise and trying very hard to hide the smile building on my face and not to explode from the joy in my gut. Most of my life I have hidden my interest in acting and cinema from those closest to me. I guess the tickle I get is from my patience and steadfast ability to never put out a situation. Trust me this has bit me in the ass a few times. We can all be what we wish. Doctors do not become Doctors in a week. I know one thing is for sure and that is We all become something new each day. I am not sure how to describe the motivation to find inspiration, but it resides in all of us. Each day is another awaiting the next. If there is one thing I miss the most from Boise, it would be the countless heart to hearts. For all the times I have opened up with people willing to be open with me. Its a love for understanding I long for each day. I raise my half empty PBR to the wonderful stories, smiles, and laughs I have shared with so many people. I apologize to the people I randomly bull shitted with a tall tail and they either believed it to be true or still to this day believe it. All I know is the Love of Life is more powerful than you and I. Like a rose with no thorns life is nothing without a struggle. Lets stick together instead of making it competition. Be what you wish you make me nothing but the definition of proud. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nick Drake - One Of These Things -&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I could have been a sailor, could have been a cook&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A real live lover, could have been a book.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I could have been a signpost, could have been a clock&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As simple as a kettle, steady as a rock.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I could be&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here and now&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I would be, I should be &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But how?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I could have been &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of these things first&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I could have been&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of these things first.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I could have been your pillar, could have been your door&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I could have stayed beside you, could have stayed for more.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Could have been your statue, could have been your friend,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A whole long lifetime could have been the end.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I could be yours so true&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I would be, I should be through and through&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I could have been&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of these things first&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I could have been One of these things first.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I could have been a whistle, could have been a flute&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A real live giver, could have been a boot.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I could have been a signpost, could have been a clock&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As simple as a kettle, steady as a rock.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I could be even here&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I would be, I should be so near&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I could have been&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of these things first&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I could have been&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of these things first. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2983227652254084029-2683293910511188533?l=surftheconcrete.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/feeds/2683293910511188533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2983227652254084029&amp;postID=2683293910511188533' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2983227652254084029/posts/default/2683293910511188533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2983227652254084029/posts/default/2683293910511188533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/2008/10/one-foot-than-other.html' title='One foot than the Other'/><author><name>surftheconcrete</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='13' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/THtoxQ0XNpI/AAAAAAAAApY/Vjq_plW2wDs/S220/Free+Mustache.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/SOsBYg_-N4I/AAAAAAAAAB8/IlE34ypgslI/s72-c/qUESTION.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983227652254084029.post-7948746012145730121</id><published>2008-09-15T22:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T00:30:29.831-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Land of Sand, Hills, Earth Quakes, and smells of Pee Pee</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/SM9ghazz9lI/AAAAAAAAAB0/WL2sShl7T2o/s1600-h/brain.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246518218158503506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/SM9ghazz9lI/AAAAAAAAAB0/WL2sShl7T2o/s400/brain.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/SM9gFcdKB5I/AAAAAAAAABs/WKsNoQ1MAZE/s1600-h/brain.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lets catch up. An uneventful week turned eventful at the end. I left off on a note of Mark and his birthday and left off on a sour personal note within. By no means towards Mark. It lied within my perspective of my personal and physical situation. I wasn't ready to let go. I was just not willing or able to release Boise and all who sail with it. I still have not, but I have made a good start. The beginning of the week was as mentioned a slow start. A platter of SLOW with a side of frustration dippin sauce. Most of it was from my school and a bit came from some food or stress bug that had me barfing and pooping all morning like a member of Shady Acres retirement home. I was in the dark with my school. No classes yet and the ever growing loss of confidence in the program had me shaken. Mentally I was a wreck. No matter how much I talked with my family and some friends no comfort. Just an seeming unending loop of sour lolly pops and stubbed toes. I wanted answers and I wasn't listening to my self. I cater to the fact of my patience and at times I let it get the best of me. I often play it safe to observe and make my move when I have calculated the risks. It was time to make a move. I scheduled a sit down meeting with the head of the school/guy to mentor me in film, my father, and yours truly. Which would end up taking place on Saturday morning. Feeling stuck I had to escape. I donned a semi nice attire ad hit the streets to search for jobs and occupy my brain. Looking back I think I had reached my breaking point. The breaking point of living in a HUGE city and talking to no one day after day. I needed to go engage and if all else failed bullshit some people and catch a buzz. I first headed down to the Jewelry District to relieve my mind. Its fun to walk block after block and see nothing but bums and jewelry shops. Its so bazaar that 4 or so square blocks is nothing but gems, crack, and random things on fire. Its a great stress reliever. Some times you must remind your self that you are better than other people. I have no shame in that last thought. I first went to a Whiskey bar by the name of The Seven Grand. I had been there before with my sister and enjoyed the place in a way that made me think of Bittercreek. Just that weaving thought of, "this place resembles my personality, aside from the Douche". I stopped and talked with the large doorman before I entered and he seemed pleased to talk. Must a say nice guy. I'll get back to him. I went up to a five o'clock bar filled with about seven early off business men. What good timing to mooch for a job. I talked with a bartender by the name of Pedro who resembled MJK in the days of CADD(just look it up). He was a nice guy who continued to repeat over and over that the place was not hiring. I understood this but I heard it a few more times. He did how ever let me in on a good list of bars in the downtown that might be hiring and if not are definitely worth checking out for some fun. I took notes, gave thanks, crop dusted, and left. On the way out I stopped and chatted again with the door guy. Once again friendly fellow. Its nice to meet good or at least seemingly good people. I headed towards the first bar on my list that happened to be on 6th and Grand, so a block away and in route to my house. The place is called Casey's. Its another Irish Pub attempt. I don't mean to degrade at all but I think as long as I live Irish Pub knock offs will be hokey. I kinda understand how themed bars get started and I understand Tiki bars and their effects after WWII but I just don't see then grand idea in setting up Irish themed Pubs. I understand the notion its Irish so I can get Fucked Up here. However the rest that follows is a little over the head. Anywho, I stopped in a chatted with a cute pink haired and tattooed hostess for a bit, got the scoop, and decided enough. Place seemed interesting I would return another date. It was Tuesday. My father was in Vegas, and I had a hankering to get a drink. I walked towards my house and stopped in Nick and Steffs (for the last time I might add I promis) to get a drink. Once again tool bag bartender, skimpy pours on overpriced drinks, and lame environment. I don't know why I went there. Any way totally lame. A waste of money for 3oz of booze. I lost my push for a buzz. I went home. However I kept drinking. I killed 6 beers or so talked on the phone for ever with C and went to bed early. This concluded Tuesday. Knock Knock Knock, Knock Knock Knock. That's all I heard as I awoke at 4:30 AM. However it was all in my head, which was pounding! An actual drumming and knocking sound rang through my head. I felt sick all over. I wont go into the messy details buts lets get it out there. It was messy. I hurt for hours. I laid stirring and churning on the couch until 11:30 AM. I watched a couple hours of I want to work for Diddy and all of Missing In Action, starring Obamma's best choice for a running mate Chuck Norris. Only I watched it muted. For I have seen this film so many times I needed no dialog just the moving images. God how I love that film. Using that as a lame form of medication it was time to up the dose and relieve the pain with some TLC from MOM. It helped, we talked for a while both sharing the listening and conversing. Some of my frustration with school and life started to seep through in the talk. I was so glad when she said it was a beautiful day and she needed to get to her gardening. It was just what I needed. To get outside and not feel sick. I gave one last big puke of fruit punch Gatoraid, Showered, and headed to the YMCA. I went and lifted, forced myself to go through with the big effort lifting day. I felt a lot better after that. I really put out a lot of frustration and negative energy. Feeling refreshed and refreshing my self with a rinse in the pool I started my plan of attack for the day. I went to get a hair cut. All because someone I did not know was forced to talk to me. I must say I think I went off in that chair. It was so nice to talk to someone. I even shared with the woman why I decided to get my hair cut. Leaving with my ears lowered and stomach empty it was time for lunch. I headed to Casey's to give it a go for some lunch. A good choice. I entered and took a seat towards the end of the bar two seats down from a heavy set tattooed woman. I sat quietly pretending to be interested in the soccer game on TV and listened in on her conversation with the bartender. I discovered she worked there. I concluded this would be an easy person to talk with. Boy was I right. I made a side comment about the show Dexter which happened to be their conversation at hand and I was in. They continued to talk with me after the TV show conversation dried up. I was so happy. I was talking to people let alone people with similar interests. Well to save a long winded story I'll sum it up with I sat there for five drinks, about 3 1/2 hours of convo, three new friend typeish people, and the first solid conversation I had in a month. By the close of the afternoon they were all asking if I had interest in working there. I have a way with people. :) I was leaving and I ran into the hostess from the night before and talked with her for about ten minutes. She gave me her number and told me she would be my friend. I felt so cheesy by that point. I wasn't sure what was going on now. Was I wearing an I'm lonely sign around my neck? No worries I can spot awkward fake sides pretty quick. I left with a renewed energy and frankly for the first time in a while couldn't wait for what the next day would bring. Thursday wasn't much let me say that. Friday was a day of sitting around and waiting. That evening my pops, sister and I went to the Angels game. That game was awesome! We ate dinner in the Angles dugout club type restaurant. Food was really good. Once again 9 rows back from homeplate and a great game with a comeback win in the bottom of the 9th concluded by a walk off home run! You don't see those too much and I got to see one live. The game was followed up by a great firework show. That was really rad too. All in all it was a great evening. Saturday would bring my meeting with school, college football, and a unexpected evening of night life. My dad and I walked to the school and sat down for two hours to discuss what is really going on. I got tons answered; took an aggressive approach and came out feeling really good again. I had grown very tired and once again, frustrated over the past four weeks. So little had happened and I could feel myself loosing focus. I shared with both of them how I have done a lot in terms of preparing my self for what is at stake here in the past four years. I had finally made a move in the direction I feel I want to take in life. It was killing me to sit in idle when I feel ready to run with it. I displayed that it was a mental move for me and I had geared myself to be in school and use my mind (hence the photo). I got a really good picture of what going to take place. After the meeting I went down to Casey's once again to watch the first half of the USC vs. Ohio State game. It was lame down there. Tons of &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;U&lt;/span&gt;gly &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;S&lt;/span&gt;poiled &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;C&lt;/span&gt;hildren. I had a great seat on the end of the Bar with a great view of a TV and the Douchary. On arrival I noticed one thing that was going to make my afternoon difficult. I was wearing a Cleveland Indians baseball cap. In bar none the less 1/2 way filled with fans of Ohio sports. Immediately I was greeted by an obese Hispanic and his buddy. They asked my what my hat meant as far as who I was cheering for. I am no dummy and said USC. However I hate both teams so I went with the home town team only to make peace at hand. Those guys soon turned into three and were some rad drunk dudes. They bought the two drinks I had while I was talking with them and went on there way right at the beginning of the game. Then the bar turned into mediocre chicks and not sure which adj. best describes so I'll use both "Tool/Douche Bags"!! I watched a shit show in regards to the game and the bar. It was slammed and everyone was getting tanked! I left at half time with a promise to some of the employees that I might be back down later. I watched the second half of the USC game and most of the Fresno game at home with my dad and wasn't planning on returning to the bar that evening until one of the bar tenders I had met called to tell me I payed however I left my card and they had it behind the bar. I took it as a reason and excuse to go back down there. When I arrived at the place I was let right in with out an ID check by none other than the bouncer I had met from the other bar. I stopped and talked with him for a few and ended up talking to another employee who invited me to sit with her and drink at the bar. I obliged and the night took off from there. I met a lot of people, had a lot to drink, and didn't pay a dime. I took shots with the manager, made fun of drunk Ohio fans, and had a ton of fun. I ended up going to an after party with the employee's and crashed out there for the evening. The next morning was dedicated to the night before as far as body pain went. Must say, it was nice to have a hang over, made me feel a part of Boise. What ensued that afternoon in my thoughts was interesting. I feel I turned a corner. I actively went out and pursued meeting people. I was an outsider tagging along with people I didn't know and I just went with the flow. It was something I was afraid of doing. I physically let go of Boise and by no means have let go mentally but it was interesting to let go for an evening. I awoke in a neighborhood I did not know, sat on a front porch recalling the night before with people I didn't really know, and through all my pours took in the beginning of my new chapter. I'm not saying that I found a new social group. Far from. I had hit a mental switch. No one and Nothing is waiting for me. You must make the moves in life. The couch wont bring you anything except a closed mind set. A feeling of rejuvenation is creeping in. I feel ready to really tackle this town. Well after a visit to Boise this weekend of course...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2983227652254084029-7948746012145730121?l=surftheconcrete.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/feeds/7948746012145730121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2983227652254084029&amp;postID=7948746012145730121' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2983227652254084029/posts/default/7948746012145730121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2983227652254084029/posts/default/7948746012145730121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/2008/09/land-of-sand-hills-earth-quakes-and.html' title='The Land of Sand, Hills, Earth Quakes, and smells of Pee Pee'/><author><name>surftheconcrete</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='13' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/THtoxQ0XNpI/AAAAAAAAApY/Vjq_plW2wDs/S220/Free+Mustache.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/SM9ghazz9lI/AAAAAAAAAB0/WL2sShl7T2o/s72-c/brain.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983227652254084029.post-7993839763051478674</id><published>2008-09-06T20:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T21:26:27.810-07:00</updated><title type='text'>September, 6 1985. A Star is Born.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/SMNX29C8AvI/AAAAAAAAABk/QEF90eRrzuw/s1600-h/PICT0324.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243130992800826098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/SMNX29C8AvI/AAAAAAAAABk/QEF90eRrzuw/s400/PICT0324.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;1906 U.S.A. President McKinley 6th September 1906 : President McKinley is shot and fatally wounded in Buffalo, New York by an anarchist named Leon Czolgosz&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;1941 Germany Jews Ordered To Wear Yellow Star Of David 6th September 1941 : The head of the Berlin Secret Police ordered all Jews over 6 years old to wear a yellow star of David on their coats together with the word Jew, and they are not to leave the area they have been assigned without obtaining police permission. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;1952 UK Farnborough Air Show Disaster 6th September 1952 : A De Havilland 110 fighter aircraft has disintegrated after breaking the sound barrier showering debris over spectators at the Farnborough Air Show in Hampshire, England, the large pieces of debris has caused the death of 30 and injured 63 more. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;1955 U.S.A. Human Space Travel Is Fantasy 6th September 1955 : An American Major General from the Rocket Sciences Division of the forces has told a news conference that any ideas of human space travel is pure fantasy as the expense to put a man into space can not be justified unless gains can be identified , he also stated that it could be achieved in 15 years if enough money was put into the project. ( In 1969 not only was space travel achieved but Man Landed on the Moon ). &lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;1970 Europe Multiple Plane Hijacks 6th September 1970 : The Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine (PFLP) have hijacked four aircraft from airports in Europe TWA Boeing 707 from Frankfurt to New York Swissair DC8 from Zurich to New York El Al Boeing 707 from Amsterdam to New York Pan American Boeing 747 from Amsterdam to New YorkThe aircraft have been flown to airports in Jordan and Egypt where the hijackers are demanding release of three Arab dissidents held in a Swiss jail in return for the 382 passengers they are holding hostage. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;1972 Germany Israeli Athletes Killed6th September 1972 : A gun battle between the Palestinian group Black September who had kidnapped nine Israeli athletes from the Olympic Village in Munich ends when the nine hostages are killed in a gun battle between German Police and the terrorists at a nearby airport, Five of the terrorists were also killed and one German Police Officer. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;1997 UK Princess Diana Funeral 6th September 1997 : Princess Diana's funeral and the four mile procession which took her coffin to Westminster Abbey is watched by over a million people lining the route and an estimated 2.5 billion people around the world, the number reflecting how many around the world have a place in their hearts for "The Peoples Princess". After the services at Westminster Abbey a private ceremony is held out of the public eye when Diana is finally laid to rest on an island in the heart of her family estate at Althorp. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Most Importantly ! 1985 Mark Allen Jr. is Born!!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Happy Birthday Mark!! Big 23 years old! Who would have thought that you would make it 23 times around the sun. Way to go buddy. Now with that said lets get on to the non eventful LA. As said LA is non eventful. School??? Ya not really sure whats going on with school. I haven't been to a single class, work shop, seminar, prayer circle, meet and greet, brunch, buffet, circle jerk, youth group, support group. I am really ready to get going here folks. I am starting to wonder if the school is ready to get this process moving. My ass feels as if some smoke is being blown up or at least at it. I have been told I will not start working on my film until April and the soonest to start filming will be in June. In the mean time I will help out on two other films. I am not complaining about working on the two other films by no mean. Its extra experience. Which will be good to get more questions answered and things discovered before I start filming my movie. The only thing is all summer I was told once I get down here I would start working on my film right away. Hummmm??? I guess right away is Hollywood lingo for April-June. And the soonest I would be working on the first of the two other films is November 5th. That means I am sitting here in LA with nothing to do it looks like? Where I was told all summer that I would get going right away. Oh ya almost forgot I am supposed to buy a 10 DVD set on film making to help get me going. Maybe that is one of the work shops? The buy your own DVD and teach yourself class. What ever. I have lunch with the head of the school on Monday and I am bringing a big list of questions as well my father and we'll see if we can figure out what is going on here. Enough on that back to September, 6th 2008. I went to the Dodgers vs. Diamondbacks game today. Dodgers won placing them 1/2 game ahead! Keep your fingers crossed we just might have some October Baseball in LA if all goes well. Fifth inning Manny hit a 3 run homer. So nasty. Our seats were sick we were in the shade all game with an exception for the leg room. I sat on my right ass cheek all game because my legs would not fit in straight. The seventh inning stretch felt awesome. Also I think I saw the biggest pair of boobies I ever did saw today. The massive jugs sat across the isle from us and WOW arthritis. A rather uneventful couple of days maybe something will happen this week. On a final note I might be shaving my moustache lemme know what you think. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;out. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2983227652254084029-7993839763051478674?l=surftheconcrete.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/feeds/7993839763051478674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2983227652254084029&amp;postID=7993839763051478674' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2983227652254084029/posts/default/7993839763051478674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2983227652254084029/posts/default/7993839763051478674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/2008/09/september-6-1985-star-is-born.html' title='September, 6 1985. A Star is Born.'/><author><name>surftheconcrete</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='13' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/THtoxQ0XNpI/AAAAAAAAApY/Vjq_plW2wDs/S220/Free+Mustache.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/SMNX29C8AvI/AAAAAAAAABk/QEF90eRrzuw/s72-c/PICT0324.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983227652254084029.post-8946087863115530078</id><published>2008-09-01T23:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T01:25:39.721-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Andy Richter is fat in person</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/SLz4Q-r2FNI/AAAAAAAAABc/HqsudsweMvo/s1600-h/DSCN0516.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241337036940907730" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/SLz4Q-r2FNI/AAAAAAAAABc/HqsudsweMvo/s400/DSCN0516.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Its Tuesday! What a week, what a weekend. So much has happened lets catch up. My void in updates was due to a backpacking trip in the Sierra's for five days. Also Michigan lost this weekend and UCLA wow way to go. First off backpacking. I anticipated this trip before my move in both positive and negative ways. I was very excited for the chance to hike along side my sister. It has been years since the last time we enjoyed the outdoors in this fashion. I must say though I was very disappointed in the structure of the trip. Where do I begin. OK so I joined in on a backpacking group my sister is a part of called LA Backpackers. It was founded by a woman who moved to LA and decided she wanted to get into backpacking, the goop has been around a little over two years. OK now a brief update on my outdoor experience. I have been involved in nature for about seventeen years of my life, as well I am an Eagle scout, and somewhat a down to earth person who has learned from their many experiences in nature. Now onto the weekend. It was a beautiful hike, full of sounds, sights, weather, and then some. Wednesday we departed LA around 5 and headed off to the trail head located outside of Mammoth Lakes, CA. Geographically located about parallel to Sacramento, so mid state about a 5 1/2 hour drive. Always fun! We found our way through the woods to our camp for the evening around eleven in the evening. From here I met the three of the other six hikers I would be exercising the soul with for the weekend (I love playing the name game in the dark) and set up the tent and hit the sack. The next morning was an early awakening and start to the trail. I also met the rest of the group by this point. The hike was an easy 6.5 miles in with the excepting of about 1300 feet of elevation gain most of which was in the span of three miles. Must say me knees and thighs felt the burn. Most of all this was happening at 9000 feet above sea level. So easy to say my lungs felt it too. We arrived one by one into camp around four in the afternoon. OK so my first critique on hiking strategy. I have always been one when leading a hiking group to set the pace at the pace of the slowest hiker. This was not the case this weekend. Seven of us arrived into camp and one was missing. Granted this was the slowest hiker and did not have a buddy. About 2-3 hours as the sun was preparing to depart for the evening he strolled into camp exhausted and out of breath from elevation. Wow I thought to my self no one waited for him. Oh the contrary was to soon be discovered. Remember our fearless 2 year experienced leader and event organizer. She decided about 2 miles outside of camp to wait for the last hiker (smart choice), however after waiting for a bit with no sign of our caboose she opted to continue to camp (bad choice). Its a good thing he made it, unless you like it when people get hurt all alone in the wilderness (he was already suffering form a swollen knee). Any who enough negative on with the positive. Don't worry I have some more bitching to do.The second day was awesome! I went on a day hike to a duo of high alpine lakes with my sister and another woman from the group. The day was warm but cut by a refreshing breeze, perfect to rejuvenate the body and mind. The first lake was stunning. The blues of the water were remarkable. You could see to a depth of about 15 feet or so. Granted the lake was nestled below some very impressive peeks the towered over head like stone guardians of a nest of glass reflecting the sights of above. The next lake was about three hundred feet above where the only path was a spotty at best traverse through a very steep boulder field. For some reason I felt 100% compelled to continue up to the next lake. The girls opted to wait for me at the lower lake. I set off to climb up the second lake and I must say what a bitch of a climb. The trail often disappeared through wave after wave of Granite, Iron, and other forms of Ingenious rocks. It was fun but at the same time freaky. This was a steep pile of rocks with the random Volkswagen size rock that would wiggle when I stepped on it. My mind raced from calm to doomsday events every minute. What if this rock was the one to roll and I was to be rocked and rolled. Oh how I would enjoy breaking my femur or getting trapped. I continued on and the path just got worse and worse. Faced with the situations mom would scream over it made the boulder scramble worth it. The final 30 feet to the top was technical. Small loose rocks and the steepest grade yet. The summit could not have been any better. An immediate view and pulchritudinous to say the least. Windy, high, and alone. Nothing better to arrive to. I took in my joy for a half an hour or so and waited for two other hikers who appeared from another pass opposite side of the lake. I accompanied the gentlemen back down the traverse (good choice). We scrambled back down to the lower lake and I joined the girls for the hike back to camp. The second day was the beginning of difficulty. Weather decided to join us. Wind, wind, and more wind. One of the tent poles broke and oh what the fuck lets throw in some more wind. My patience was tested through multiple situations. The days at the lake were refreshing but at the same time were very hard. My mind had time to think of very many things. Home, friends, family, and the life I am trying to create for my self. I found myself depressed in the mornings happy during the days and depressed once again in the evening. I miss so much and I am trying to be comfortable with that notion. Every day is a reminder of what love is all about. My ducts are dry and my heart is full I enjoyed my time through the thick and thin but its time to bitch again and boy-o-boy the shit hit the fan the last morning. I awoke to my sister telling me that the hiking group had departed. They left us... Apparently we would be fine to hike out without the group. No map, No breakfast, and No smile on my face we departed. Better yet when we arrived at the trail head no one from the group was there. They packed up their cars and left. WOW! That is dangerous my friends. Leave people behind, who cares if they get lost or hurt, out of sight out of mind. I will oh so enjoy leaving a comment on the LA Backpackers blog page. I put this glorious leadership decision out of my head for I knew I had a 5 1/2 hour drive ahead and to fixate on the negative would certainly not make a shitty situation any better. Well the lets find something else to mentally obsess over. We ate lunch in Mammoth which was were I received some bum bum news. I found out that my first visitor was no longer able to make it down to LA to visit the weekend of September 12th due to schedule conflict. I had been building this visit up in my head, probably a little too much, but life works in odd ways. My mind quickly moved into depression and loneliness. I was looking forward to a visit so much but it is a no go. It pissed me off for a good six hours or 400 miles whichever way you want to put it. I took it out on the interstate to say the least. Arrival at apartment # 2516 was refreshing. A filling non freeze dried meal and a long shower, and I am back at full strength. I was exhausted but I laid awake until 3:30 am thinking and distracting myself with the movie Heat that was playing on TNT. That movie sucks on TV. Not so much the editing of violence and language, its the commercials! good Lord I swear I stayed up all for the heist and shoot out to conclude the movie however I had to wade through 27 commercial breaks (I counted). I passed out to awake to an empty house and stomach. My dad showed up around eleven from a bike ride and we were of to world famous Philippe's. Everything was true. Food was cheep, delicious, and at the same table you could find a business man and a bum eating in harmony. Or in our case today Mr. Andy Richter. What a delightfull and a beautiful family he has. The rest of the day was spent in front of the boob tube watching college football, oh how I have missed you so. Great games and a half rack of PBR is a wonderful close to a Labor day weekend, considering I am unemployed. I am off to school tomorrow to scout filming locations for the first of two films I will be working on other than my own. My fingers hurt and my brain is fried. Its good to be loved and great to smile. The weeks will fly and no memories will fade. A new chapter has begun and I am excited to do and be the best I can in it. The last sentence has a double meaning and you know who you are. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2983227652254084029-8946087863115530078?l=surftheconcrete.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/feeds/8946087863115530078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2983227652254084029&amp;postID=8946087863115530078' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2983227652254084029/posts/default/8946087863115530078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2983227652254084029/posts/default/8946087863115530078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/2008/09/andy-richter-is-fat-in-person.html' title='Andy Richter is fat in person'/><author><name>surftheconcrete</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='13' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/THtoxQ0XNpI/AAAAAAAAApY/Vjq_plW2wDs/S220/Free+Mustache.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/SLz4Q-r2FNI/AAAAAAAAABc/HqsudsweMvo/s72-c/DSCN0516.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983227652254084029.post-4432288624371540952</id><published>2008-08-24T21:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T22:50:07.046-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Take me out to the Ball Game</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/SLJHxuKxkQI/AAAAAAAAABM/bGlzimLhXwc/s1600-h/DSCN0492.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238328236117692674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/SLJHxuKxkQI/AAAAAAAAABM/bGlzimLhXwc/s400/DSCN0492.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;The weekend arrived and departed. Not my typical but change is good. Tropic Thunder, new faces and places, and an Angels win. Not bad. Saturday was slow. Awoke to an empty apartment with an open agenda for the day. My father was on a bike ride and my mind was ready to wan·der. –verb (used without object)&lt;br /&gt;1. to ramble without a definite purpose or objective; roam, rove, or stray: to wander over the earth.&lt;br /&gt;2.to go aimlessly, indirectly, or casually; meander&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am not sure what over took me but for some reason I was interested in tips on grooming my moustache. I jumped on the world wide web and set my explorer to curiosity. I paged through several forums and landed on one that was very helpful. So helpful in fact I purchased a can of new wax several gentlemen were raving about. Yes it was impulse but so was growing this caterpillar in the first place. Some times you must treat your self and I must say some of the images were very impressive. Whats in a stache? After a tickle of self spoiling I showered and departed to the pool level to do the daily reading. After a week now of reading every afternoon for hours on end I must say my pace of scanning the books for information has much increased. This whole reading gig ain't so bad. Time passed and my stomach roared to be fed. As it should I read an entire book some 300 pages and was at it for a good five hours. I don't mean to brag on the 300 pages but god damn that's a lot. Then again I don't want to come across as a worm for 300 pages, but whats a guy who knows no one to do. I headed up stairs to see if my old man was home. Sure enough he was. Sprawled out with that damn Olympic fever again. I don't think any modern medicine will ever cure what has over taken so many innocent lives. Time is the best medicine for this. As discussed a day or so ago between the two of us we were to take my bike up to Pasadena to get a check up at his bike store of choice. A easy drive full of fantastic homes and traffic. I am getting very used to the second. I must say this bike store was impressive and expensive. I guess its owned by a Russian who has a taste for Italian? My bike should fit in just fine. Seeing how its an Italian company manufactured in Taiwan. But what isn't besides you and I. Except, for this guy I met named Choi. He was born and conceived in Taiwan so I guess he's legit. After the Bike store grocery shopping was next on the mental list of things to do. Ralph's shares the second trait as the bike store its expensive! I took a moment to enjoy the isle where Liquor is for sale in the grocery store. I love it! The best thing that came out of the food run was the case of PBR that made its way into the cart. God had it really been a week with out the blue jewel? Lets just say the shakes don't creep up on me. We enjoyed a wonderful salmon dinner and it was time to head out with my sister and her friends for the evening. We caught a showing of Tropic Thunder and went our for some drinks after. See the movie if you haven't its great! For drinks we went to some Pizza Hut disguised as a Bar. I wasn't really a Pizza Hut but it felt like one. There was only one bar and the rest of the place was divided into rows of booths (just like pizza hut) and occasionally accompanied by a pool table or golden tee set up. What hit me as the most bazaar was the booths? What the fuck? no room to dance no room to space out? Was this an attempt of making a family oriented bar? All I know is hot crowded places and plastic booths create ass sweat. By the buckets. And holy shit,!, I am on a budget so I resorted to Coors Lite to drink and that's seven dollars. I had three. Should have got a pitcher. Looks like I am going to get comfortable with my shakes. Sunday was awesome. I awoke to go to a baseball game, let alone it was at Angel Stadium. A stadium I have never been to and we were seated about 12 rows back from home plate. Not bad, not bad at all. Game was great Santana for the Angels pitched 11 K's and the runs kept coming, let alone three triples in the 8th. Final score Angels 5 Twins 3. All the action came in the 8th inning right when our seats were finally over run by the shade! And I thought the Pizza Hut bar made ass sweat. It was way fun I got to sit with my dad and sister and watch a game I have become so very very fond of. When I got back to the house I was due for a nap. Which was even better because I passed out for an hour or so to be awaken for dinner all set and ready. Service with a smile my friends. A delicious meal to round out a wonderful day. My spirits were lifted when I had a lengthy phone conversation with a dear and close friend. It was oh so very refreshing to hear the voice of a friend. It put a large gust of air in my sails to reassure that I am down here doing something positive. I could tell neither one of us wanted to hang up it just felt good to be vulnerable and safe at the same time. I hope she knows how much it helped. I guess that's where I can leave off. I miss so much and physically have so little. But its the emotional investments that I have made in so many wonderful people that are paying off. This is the first I have been in this situation and I must say its fun. I think about so many people so very often and I will never be sick of it. Tomorrow is the first day of the journey to make my movie. Lights camera action lets have some fun....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2983227652254084029-4432288624371540952?l=surftheconcrete.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/feeds/4432288624371540952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2983227652254084029&amp;postID=4432288624371540952' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2983227652254084029/posts/default/4432288624371540952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2983227652254084029/posts/default/4432288624371540952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/2008/08/take-me-out-to-ball-game.html' title='Take me out to the Ball Game'/><author><name>surftheconcrete</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='13' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/THtoxQ0XNpI/AAAAAAAAApY/Vjq_plW2wDs/S220/Free+Mustache.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/SLJHxuKxkQI/AAAAAAAAABM/bGlzimLhXwc/s72-c/DSCN0492.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983227652254084029.post-975946551633421616</id><published>2008-08-21T21:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T23:16:25.017-07:00</updated><title type='text'>From Pine trees to Palm trees</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/SK5ZptC3-LI/AAAAAAAAABA/gHyZ9eA6Hgc/s1600-h/sunbuilding.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237221989679626418" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/SK5ZptC3-LI/AAAAAAAAABA/gHyZ9eA6Hgc/s400/sunbuilding.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A blur. Another groggy eyed awakening. It is now Thursday more minutes past more medals won. Today wasn't anything out of the ordinary or what I perceive to be the ordinary for my first week. Shower, stretch, read. Feel cramped, decide to walk. Where to? Still don't know. I tried to find as much excitement as I could in this some what monotonous process. Before my departure I sprawled out over a large detailed street map of down town LA. Like Sean Connery in Hunt for the Red October I planned my attack (walk) down to the finest detail. As not to be surprised by any misleading street. " We will pass through the American patrols, past their sonar nets, and lay off their largest city, and listen to their rock and roll... while we conduct missile drills." -&lt;em&gt;Captian Ramius&lt;/em&gt;. This was how I felt, a watchful eye for bums, businessmen, and buses. I head out the door and set my barrings for the film studio. With Buckethead exercising in my ears and a pace in my step to match I trudged towards my destination. Surprise came at my fourth corner, sidewalk under construction... Great now I must wing it. Easy as pie. This walk wasn't as difficult as logged it just feels better to think about it in dramatic fashion. I took the next block west to 4th street and crossed the bridge in my path across the 110 freeway. A strong feeling of vertigo raced through my veins as I stopped to watch some 10,000 people pass by at 85 mph. I couldn't think of anything. I tried my mind was empty just guitar riff after guitar riff bouncing form the right head phone to the left. Finally a thought! Why I thought about an event of an earthquake while I was on this bridge I don't know but it was enough to dry my mouth and over whelm my senses, I had to continue. Arrival to my destination. What an accomplishment overtaken by the idea of waste. 12 minutes was all it took and now what? Back to the house? Towards the downtown? Further into this area of town I knew nothing about? As I do in most situations I listened to my senses. A low growl my stomach shall be my guide. Onward to home where food awaits. I used this leg of my walk to explore a few blocks I hadn't seen yet and to take mental notes of places of convenience and other places to eat. To my luck and interest two sandwich shops and a liquor store on the same block. Ignoring the devil in both fields I comforted the hunger of my stomach and liver with the promise of a future visit. Waiting for the light to change I suddenly felt as if I was in to company of several people. Looking around I saw just this but why was I feeling the group presence so intensely? So simple. My batteries were dead some blocks ago. There was no music playing for a while. I was walking with my headphones on listening to the soundtrack of the metropolis. I toughed it up Grand steadily to my house. Consume the food, feed the soul, read to replenish the mind. I want to be amazed but I know it has been there all along, the ability to speed up time in the pages of a book. It was now six, my father should be home from work. Time for the already dull elevator ride form the balcony level to the 25th floor. I found him lying on the couch sick with Olympic fever adorned in his cycling gear this could mean one thing. Time to spin. I joined him at the YMCA for the second evening in a row for the hour power of spinning class. I enjoyed tonight's class much more. Not sure if I had already made physical process or if it was the fact that tonight's instructor was squawking constantly through a microphone. All in all my shirt was soaked and my body was high with the glory of a good ride. Well as good as you can get for never leaving the position you started in. Returned home, showered again, ate, and joined my father in the simple feat of putting my bike back together form the box it was shipped down here in. And once again here I am placing the day together only to stop as I answer the phone for a long but not lost friend who moved down here years ago and has found me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2983227652254084029-975946551633421616?l=surftheconcrete.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/feeds/975946551633421616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2983227652254084029&amp;postID=975946551633421616' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2983227652254084029/posts/default/975946551633421616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2983227652254084029/posts/default/975946551633421616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/2008/08/from-pine-trees-to-palm-trees.html' title='From Pine trees to Palm trees'/><author><name>surftheconcrete</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='13' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/THtoxQ0XNpI/AAAAAAAAApY/Vjq_plW2wDs/S220/Free+Mustache.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/SK5ZptC3-LI/AAAAAAAAABA/gHyZ9eA6Hgc/s72-c/sunbuilding.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983227652254084029.post-2450310326642268713</id><published>2008-08-19T19:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T21:37:23.113-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I am here'/><title type='text'>Humid with a chance of Urine</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/SKuZR4XSpOI/AAAAAAAAAA4/yjSdCqnjbDg/s1600-h/DSCN0486.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236447524215235810" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/SKuZR4XSpOI/AAAAAAAAAA4/yjSdCqnjbDg/s320/DSCN0486.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Arrival, the beginning of a new and the closing of who knows. 7:15 am, my arrival into the concrete jungle that is Los Angles. Surprisingly LAX was empty. A slow morning. An attempt for hustle and bustle lingered but no such thing would happen in my abrupt experience. Transitioned to the baggage carousel to retrieve the five bags that shall make up my material existence here in my new home. 1... 2... 3... 4... where is the 5th? Another creaky metal lap after another. Where is the 5th? Shortly we discovered the Alaska/Horizon Baggage retrieval counter as the first lead to find my 5th. I feel as If I lucked out, upon approachment to the desk of travel frustration, one of the two attendants departed to lead a man I recognized from the cramped seats in front of my own on a mere second journey of bag enlightenment. I quietly fallowed suit to the cerebral celebration of my 5th. Accomplishment of the finest. A quiet thank you and it was time to find the shuttle to 3rd and Grand Avenue, my new residency. The van was spacious but the air felt the same as LAX, warm and draining. I continued to nod off repeatedly. Awakening only to the sound of Armenian radio chatter and the bickering of a mother and her daughters whom shared the 45 minute commute. From there still feels like a blur. I shared the plane ride, van ride, and elevator ride with my father. Three things that represent only the beginning of a sharing relationship. We exchanged few words and he departed to work, I departed to bed. I collapsed on the large king, sleep took over immediately. A lite dose of REM to be rudely awakened to the feeling of sweating the bed. GOD. Has detox already begun. Besides the soaked human print on the bed it was now noon. Half of my first day in my new home spent in a delirious state of apnea. I shredded my clothes to my boxers to attempt to cool/dry off. Knock knock knock... knock knock knock... Who the hell could this be? A city of 9,948,081 million people and some one is attempting to verbally exchange with me? Frantically I throw on my shorts and post up on the Spy hole on the large pine door. Caryl? What a fool I am out of 9,948,081 million people I forget that one of the two people I do know down here might be curious to check in on me. I let her knock one more time still spying through the fish bowl of Sauron. I returned a knock to her and privately enjoyed the smile that overwhelmed me to see the best friend I seldom see share a smile of her own knowing her brother has arrived. The rest of the day shall be processed and posted.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2983227652254084029-2450310326642268713?l=surftheconcrete.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/feeds/2450310326642268713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2983227652254084029&amp;postID=2450310326642268713' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2983227652254084029/posts/default/2450310326642268713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2983227652254084029/posts/default/2450310326642268713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://surftheconcrete.blogspot.com/2008/08/humid-with-chance-of-urin.html' title='Humid with a chance of Urine'/><author><name>surftheconcrete</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='13' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/THtoxQ0XNpI/AAAAAAAAApY/Vjq_plW2wDs/S220/Free+Mustache.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TgAMvc4OzAA/SKuZR4XSpOI/AAAAAAAAAA4/yjSdCqnjbDg/s72-c/DSCN0486.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
