The Writing on the Wall

Amen.

Blue Monday: of eggs and llamas

Much has happened in the last week, amigos. Team HHG has flown across the country and back with two kids under five and survived, Harry Potter has engaged in the usual epicness with You-Know-Who, and some stuff has gone down with Rupert Murdoch and his news agencies across The Pond that would be exciting if it weren't so damn boring.
And it's Blue Monday!
For those of you who are just joining, Blue Monday is when I fling wide the doors to my private email account, and also share the blue board of the week.
Like this 5'10 wetsanded egg.
On to the questions!
Dear HHG, yesterday a lady paddled out into the lineup, and a weird thing happened: everyone started to be nice to each other, when minutes before we were kinda being dicks. What's the deal?
E. Masculated in Marin

Mr. Masculated, yesterday you experienced 'civilization.' Although rare on the Northcoast, civilization can lead to increased sharing of waves, more smiles in the lineup, and a decrease in references to manparts. In much of the world we refer to this as 'value added.' You do have a few responsibilities, though. First, no staring. Second, you're going to have to start using a towel to change out of the wetsuit. That's the deal.
Back to the boardporn!
2+1, cedar stringer, and a pulled-in tail to keep things real in the pocket. Good for all-around beachbreak shredding.
Dear HHG,
In the last month I've noticed an increase in hobos in my local lineup--beards, flannel shirts, a general unwashed vibe. What's the deal?
NoHobo

NoHobo, unless there was a recent bum conference nearby, I think you're experiencing either of the following. 1. Hipsters or 2. Teachers on summer break. Both are harmless, and both can be placated with cheap canned beer.
Poplar rail fins--I love foiling these because they smell like vanilla. Seriously. Michel and crew glassed them on.
This week's final question comes from my two-year-old daughter, who wants to know what that llama is doing in the photo. I told her I have no idea, but that board is waaaaay too small for it. She agreed and then went outside to play with the hose.

Handfull

Ahhh, summer. Pinot grigio consumption is measured in gallons, nobody can remember the last time my four and two year old daughters wore an actual article of clothing, and Team HHG jets across country for our annual pilgrimage to coastal New England.
This year necessity, that old mother of invention, dictated our baggage-fee-friendly East Coast quiver (quivah):
Fish, pintail, winged pin.
Know what feels good? Stroking into your first wave in the Atlantic for a year, stretching the body out full, and washing away fourteen hours of travel and midair diaper anxieties.
Also, littleneck clams.
Know what feels bad? When you get back from the beach, and you struggle to close your door, but it won't go all the way because it's swollen in the New England humidity, then your sister yells, 'close the damn door, I can see your manparts!" even though the door is only cracked the tiniest of slivers.
Also, bugs.
Back to Califonia on Tuesday!

Found Footage

Reports that this board exists cannot be confirmed or denied, or that it is a 5'8 MiniSimmons twin fin for new homeowner (and roof repairer), married man, dog rescuer, solar enthusiast, and all-around stoked bro Chad.

If such a board were, in fact, to exist, it may or may have not been glassed by Junod and crew at Almar in Santa Cruz.