Yellow Monday, EMail Monday, Non-Euphemisms

Film enthusiasts might recall a scene from Jonathan Demme's The Silence of the Lambs where intrepid, birdlike FBI cadet Clarice Starling pokes around in Hannibal Lector's storage unit (not a euphemism).
The powerful beam of her flashlight exposes all manner of objets d'freaky until it lands on the severed, pickled head of some dude from a side plot.
As you know, Email Monday, a time-honored tradition here at HeadHighGlassy, is the day we arm you with a government-issue flashlight and turn you loose, like Clarice Starling, into the unlit storage unit that is the HHG inbox.
First up!
Dear HHG,
Most of the time I love my full, diverse stable of surfboards. I can ride a different board each day of the month if I so choose.
Sometimes, however, late at night I feel soulless in my board hedonism. I think that somewhere there walks a single surfboard--The One design--that will satisfy all my needs.
Does this mean I'm ready to commit to just one board?
Board Bachelor
Dear BB, Don't do it!
Order more boards, experiment with more designs, swap out fins, exchange boards with friends, fill out order cards like they're free raffle tickets for even more surfboards. You see, guys and gals who have committed to The One board design rely on you to remind them of their own quiver-abundant days, when they, too, could leave the garage with a board under each arm and two already in the car. It's not hedonism, BB, it's living the dream.

Dear HHG,
I got kind of drunk the other night and had a fantasy about ordering a thruster (not a euphemism). Is this normal?
Tri-Curious
TC, You are perfectly normal. Please consult Board Bachelor for support.

Dear HHG, this week marks the Jewish holiday of Shavuot. Traditionally, Jews eat dairy to commemorate God's delivery of the Torah to the Israelites, but I'm lactose intolerant. What to do with this meshugganah?
CircumSurfer
CS, the tradition stems from the fact that the Torah introduced the law of kosher and, since Jews had just received the Torah, they didn't have time to prepare meat in kosher cookware that night (not a euphemism). May 28th, The first night of Shavuos, would be a great night for a salad and some home-rolled sushi. l'chayim!

Yellow Monday is another time-honored tradition. This week's yellow board is for Northcoast fish-enthusiast Robert.
Black tapered foam-stain panels and full-board deep yellow tint by Leslie Anderson at Fatty Fiberglass.
Hotcoating, sanding, finning, leash-plug install, glossing, and polishing also done by Leslie.

Bamboo fins by Marlin Bacon.
Hope the Memorial Day weekend found you engaged with something important.

Cult of the Curve

Last Wednesday, scientists unveiled a 35,000 year old carving believed to be the world’s oldest known sculpture of the human form. The ivory figure, found in fragments in a German cave, depicts a woman whose exaggerated features (the Associated Press deemed the sculpture ‘busty’) are curvier than a roomful of shoestring fries.
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: straight lines offer little sensual satisfaction to the human mind. Curves are a whole different story. As evidence, I give you Larry Bird’s legs.
There are very few websites dedicated to Larry Bird’s legs. Larry Bird will never have to insure his legs in case something dreadful should happen to them.
On the other hand, I present to you the stunning gams of Post-Neanderthal German Cave Lady--check out these stems!
Anthropologists now believe that early humans experienced a genetic mutation or neurological leap that caused an explosion of language and culture.
The first sign of this explosion?
Curved figures.
What is it about curves that excite us so? I have ideas, but who cares. If it weren’t for curves, I wouldn’t go into my cave every day, carving away at more modern ivory sculptures. And you, gentle curve enthusiast, wouldn’t be here either, reading about the freaky gene that draws you to a curved form over a straight one, waiting patiently for some non-straight lines so that you can go about your day a bit more reasonably.
This curvy 6' beachbreak speed egg (mini Cigare Volant model, for those keeping score) is for NorCal stoker, bike and skateboard enthusiast, and talented writer/photographer Eric. It will be equipped with five bamboo fins, then unleashed on our not-so-gentle waters. He's just the man for the job, genetic mutation and all.

Bad Metaphor Monday (now with more board p0rn!)

Recent claims in HeadHighGlassy that now seem foolish in retrospect:
1. The heat. I recently called out the red-wine-only drinking elite by singing the praises of Chardonnay, an overpurchased and overciticised varietal if there ever was one. Sort of like the Jessica Simpson of beverages. Now that it's raining and 48 degrees inside my house, that seems kind of dumb.
2. Establishing a link between swine flu outbreaks and democratic presidents. This one wasn't me, but it's dumb enough to have made its debut on these very (electronic) pages.
Recent claims in HeadHighGlassy I solemnly stand by:
1. A little board porn always takes the edge off a Monday, even if it's posted after midnight EST.
2. Spring brings out the resin tints like colored boards are ants and spring is a honey-covered dipstick.
Exhibit A: a 7'10 egg for Dexter enthusiast, father, and stoked surfer Danny who sent this picture to enchanting glasser Leslie Anderson. A likeness was requested.
An interpretation, in full resin, gloss, and polish was delivered.
Lokbox rail fin boxes+long center box= more possibilities than a lazor hair-removal technician in a room full of my relatives.
Pointbreak foil.
Pointbreak-friendly orange deck.
Pointbreak-destroying 101 FinCo bamboo quads.
Everything in the above picture was made by hand in California. Even the gravel driveway originated less than a stone's throw (sorry) from my house. I shit you not.