September 01, 2006 - 11:07 AM

Rocking the Pink Board

I rocked the pink board. When your brother is in town, and you go rent surfboards, and he gets the big blue board, and you get stuck with the shorter pink board, you don't question it. You just rock that pink board. You rock it All. Night. Long.

Ewww.

Phil flew into town on a Thursday around noon. This was the day that all that hoopla occurred in Britain, what with the threat of liquid explosives and such on airplanes. So he was delayed coming out of Logan, and they confiscated his squishy things.

Ewww.

No shaving cream and no hair goop make Phil a something something...anyways, he still made it into LAX relatively close to on time. Because I have a JOB and can't dilly dally around during the work week in the middle of the day, Tony picked him up from the airport. He introduced Phil to In-N-Out burgers for lunch, then got him hooked on Guitar Hero. He also tried to draw Phil into the universe of World of Warcraft.

Ewww.

After I got out of work, I met up with them and Margaret, and we skipped over to Santa Monica to have dinner at Musha, a Japanese Izakaya style restaurant. It's sort've a cross between tapas and bar food, only Japanese-like. Lots of tasty little dishes like fried chicken drumettes, slow-stewed pork, beef tongue, and octopus-noodle quiche. Wait, huh?

Ewww.

Friday, Phil, Tony, and Eddie got together and played golf in the morning while I worked. I then schlepped over to Tony's so that he, Phil, Matt, and I could go to the Dodgers/Giants game. We had Fatburger before the game which saved us some money that could then be spent on lots of beer. Despite our ebriating, we didn't join the boatloads of heckling fans in the leftfield area where we were seated in making total asses of ourselves, though. Within the first inning, at least 3 people were removed from the stadium by security for being obnoxious, disorderly, and a bit scary. I'm guessing having Barry Bonds be less than 30 yards away from you can make you go crazy by proximity.

Ewww.

The pink board came into play the next morning, as Matt and Sharon picked us up early and took us down to Santa Monica, just below the pier, to give Phil a taste of surfing. We were on the beach for about 5 hours, spending probably 3 of those hours paddling in the ocean. For a first-timer, Phil did pretty well, managing a few spectacular wipeouts in between getting up and riding the waves. By the time we took a scenic and leisurely drive up the Pacific Coast Highway, all four of us were completely tuckered out. But that wasn't the end of our day, not by a long shot. We had some packing of meat to get in.

Ewww.

Tony, Margaret, Matt, and Sharon took us to a Korean restaurant in Koreatown called Tahoe Galbi. We ate more beef and pork than should be consumed in a month by a football team. With korean bbq pretty much coming out of our ears, we waddled over to a karaoke house and sequestered ourselves in a room so that we could belt out songs to our hearts content. I think the highlight was listening to Tony and Phil duet on a Ja Rule song.

Heeee.

That was a late night. But then, every night was a late night. And every morning was an early morning. Phil couldn't help getting up at 5:30 or 6 in the morning, which was actually LATE for him, when you factor in East Coast/West Coast time changes. Yeah, I didn't get much sleep that weekend.

Zzzzz.

Sunday was laid back. I drove him around Hollywood, showing him the sights on Hollywood Boulevard and Sunset Strip, a bit of Mullholland Drive, massive houses and chi-chi boutiques in Beverly Hills. We ended up with time to kill in Century City, so we saw the movie The Descent. Both of us are total wusses when it comes to scary movies, so our pants might have been a little moist, maybe, after the movie.

Ewww.

The final dinner was just me and Phil at a sushi place called Asanebo. It's where Soph and I went when she was out here for Tony's wedding last year. While it was good, it wasn't as good as the last time, which disappointed me because I wanted Phil to have a memorable sushi experience in L.A. That'll have to wait for his next visit, I guess. Oh, and there was a mini celebrity sighting as Clea DuVall was there with a friend. Phil had no idea who she was, but I found it interesting that this was the second time in just over a month that I'd seen her in an innocuous setting (the previous time was at the coffee place where I played with Angela down in San Pedro near Long Beach on July 3rd).

Huh?

And that was pretty much the end of Phil's trip to L.A. I dropped him off at the airport early the next morning, probably a few pounds heavier, a few shades darker, and a few hours tireder.

Now Listening To : Camera Obscura- Let's Get Out of This Country
Random Thought : This is the last day. I am soon to be unemployed. Who wants to help me get gobsmacked this weekend?

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