Hurricane Bill looking down from Peter Beards property

Here is what you missed. Sunday morning looked big and beautiful. I need to get a better zoom lens.

Return to the Sand Bar

We did it again. Emily was out from Brooklyn with friends and since Hurricane Bill was keeping us ashore we got our liquid fill at The Sand Bar. I love this place. Stuck in time, only thing is when a group of outsiders walks in the record stops and than slowly fades back into a noisy bar scene. I look at it as our introduction.

Last weekend at Smith Point and around Mastic Beach

Yes there was an absence of waves but the water was beautiful anyways. Here are some images collected at the most summer feeling weekend yet. The no-wave-weekend will not hold for long, Hurricane Bill is in the house now.

NY Times story of Kess

Read Times story about Andy Kessler.

Andy Kessler, you will be missed.

Its a sad day today. Phones been ringing, texting fingers frantic, emails of forwarded articles and blogs have been reporting. I will add.

I just saw Andy in Montauk while I was out there at Ditch Plains on Saturday. I was walking off the beach saw Andy than continued on. There was a group of mid-aged men sitting over by the Ditch Witch food truck and I overheard one dude say,

"Did you just see him, he is a legend"

Dude hit the nail on the head.

Mike DeTemple in Hamptons Magazine

From the Picaresque world.

Hampton Magazine jumping on the bandwagon.

Montauk Aug. 8

Headed to the end of the Island for Saturday since it was flat there at Smith Point.

Ditch Plains pretty much always breaks even if its an ankle bender.

Its funny watching the in-and-out going on at the shore. A peoples feet so used to sand takes some time to overcome rocks.

Bronx Zoo

So I went by the Bronx Zoo.

Bali last year

photo by Steven Landau

Lately I have been yearning to get back to Indo. Even beyond the havoc it wreaked on me last year, I want more.

There's a couple reef cuts there mixed with some reptilian styles.

My longtime friend Stephen Landau from Mastic Beach met up with me in Bali being that he now resides in Singapore. The flight over is only 2 hours. How jealous I am.

The dawn patrol

There is something about being in the water as the sun rises, before the sand becomes pocked in foot steps, earlier than any other soul, bobbing among clean humps of water that I just keep daydreaming about all day as I sit in front of this glowing monitor listening to the rotations of the fan, wishing those clock hands were moving as quickly towards the weekend.

Yeah right....we can be hopeful.

I went to planning meetings about this years ago when Ed Gerbino was helping push a skatepark into Smith Point. 250,000$ was set aside, but where did it go? Now there is a new uprising, new place and new park in the works. I won't believe it till I see it.

Read this 'bout it.

Construction of the skate park is not expected to take very long and it could be open by the fall, Mr. Romaine said. The park could also include a component for bikers, a request from a student advisory committee that officials are looking into, he said.

My hopes are that this isn't done in a shortsighted fashion. Most likely it will be a crappy park thrown together with no one who actually skateboards driving the direction.

My good friend in Philly has been working with the city of Philidelphia to construct a skatepark right next to the Art Museum in Philly. The idea is to make a park that mimics the street architecture that skateboarders yearn for.

Check Franklins Paine.

Also this park is along the same vision.

Keep me happy among the reeds and sand.

Image: Spooner Central

We're a peninsula. We are three towns mashed between two rivers and a bay to the south and further beyond we are a barrier beach with ocean slamming against that. The word Mastic scares some, disgusts others and puts question marks in place of lips among the rest. People of Shirley claim its nicer there, people of Mastic Beach are becoming a village, and well Mastic has just a great name. The letters work well together. Graphically, it works. Shirley, as a name I don't dig it, it reminds me of a nasty women wearing a 50's 1 piece bathing suit, some red sunglasses and fatty deposits where they don't belong. She has a huge rack but it's torpedo shaped. But I say Mastic/Shirley as it encompasses the tri-hamlet. Hamlet sounds quaint. The train station is named thee. People are using Smith Point now but yet rocking the same zip code 11967. Mastic has it's section Mastic Park, others claim Manor Park and when you go to the reaches north they rid themselves Mastic/Shirley all together and try to claim East Yaphank. We all come together and share the same shoreline. Smith Point is so uniquely Mastic/Mastic Beach/Shirley/Mastic Park/Manor Park, but East Yaphank you can have the middle of the island if you want it.

Times weighs in on Hamptons spilling into Montauk

Photo: NY Times

Another story about the grotesque Hamptonizing of Montauk.

That g'damn Surf Lodge is being blamed.


Read this caca.

A male friend who shares her rental house in Southampton had warned her on a recent Saturday night to wear flats to Surf Lodge, the trendy new nightspot for the Hamptons crowd. But she was not the type of woman to have packed party shoes without heels.

Another shlock of shit.

This is retarded.

NY Times is schlocking another horseshit story about the popularity and ruining of Montauk.

Read this barf here.

Celebrities are being invited to store their boards at the club, where the staff members will keep them in slots marked by name placards. Already there are dedicated pegs for “Jimmy Buffet,’’ “Karen Lauder’’ and Jon Bon Jovi’s son “Jesse Bongiovi” (though, as of this week, those slots remained empty).

Dear and Yonder

Made it out to the Mollusk premiere of Dear and Yonder. I expected to trip upon a crowd of 50 at most, as in every premiere past, instead the street was packed to the bone with mucho peeps. All the usual faces were peppered throughout the crowd filled in with many new heads that came for the Paper Magazine and Roxy sponsorship of the event. I didn't get to sit and delve to far into the flick with my main concern of scoring a pink bracelet to get a free-flow of liquid gold. Acquired, the rest of the night ended up with multiple visits to the beer line.

Go to Endless Bummer, Toddy posted a lil movie bout the night.

All in all, it was a fun night there.

Dans Paper Cover

Cover by Michael Paraskevas

I was only 9 I think, my first footstep into the nude beach. When you walked west along the crashing shore, following the footsteps of all those with boards clenched under their arms, the crowds bathing suits starts lessening. My mother would bring us to the break that was than known as "Bagels" to watch over my brother and I as we bodyboarded 5 to 6 hours straight every chance we got. She sat there engulfed in a ring of nudity, eyes peeled on her two sons, afloat among 2 footers to hurricane swell. The sandbar showed up year after year among the nudies. The nudist community is forced to mix wih these sandbar chasers. Its startling when you are out among the outer-break line-up, and a fully bronzed muscle man floats by on a bodyboard wearing nothing. Two cheeks surfacing like sperm whales. One-upping us clothed ones with use of rudder.

I remember Dave Mims of Autumn Skateshop flying a kite, we must've been 16, and one such Bronzeman, as we coined the fully tanned nudies, yell over to us while stroking his hardened piece, "Don't just stare...Join the show"

And that asshole up there on the cover, I hope he never joins my show.

Effing Bluefish bite?

Surfers were attacked.

"At least two surfers near Sagg Main Beach in Sagaponack were taken to Southampton Hospital on Friday afternoon with severe bites to their feet, and several other people in the water suffered less serious bites to their feet and hands from bluefish that were feeding on a large school of baitfish pushed toward shore by storms."

Read the rest of the article.

Sunday fog on the beach

By the house it was clear but as you passed over the Smith Point Bridge the air became heavier and shrouded in fine liquid pellets carried among the intense heat.

Open letter to a friend...

Dear Pee Pee Ticket Maker,
I am over-joyed with the relieving of yourself that you did Monday morning into the LIRR ticket machine. I was on step 3 to my Monday morning routine of returning to the city so I can partake in the workforce. I just got dropped off by my mother so I can board the 7:37 to Penn Station. I was a few minutes on the late side so I was rushing just a bit. In this forward moving fury I ran over to the ticket machine to make the purchase. I slid my debit card into the slot, typed a few numbers, looked down to notice a dollar coin on the floor, waited through the "printing tickets" message on the foggy screen than stuck my hand down in the ticket trough. But instead of pulling dry tickets and a dry hand out my hand was coated. Coated in a liquid, warm to the touch, filling the four inches of depth. The tickets were floating, all $34.50 worth in your beautiful urine. I want to take this time to thank you for letting me and many others who were already so happy that it was Monday morning get this hand bath. I want to thank you for making me smile till I got to a bathroom to soap off your waste. You are a prize to this earth and the world needs to stop and look to the skies and thank the lord that you are equipped with that fleshy instrument between your legs just so you can inject it into a LIRR ticket machine ticket trough. I sit here at work a day later after recollection and think about you, pants half-massed, waist pushed against the machine, filling 'er up for my enjoyment. Its fantastic.
Sincerely,
Herman

The skin of Mr. Mastastico

Mr. Mastastico has some beautiful work covering his back and amazingly buff chest. Here's his back I grabbed while he was naked in Smitty's parking lot.