What were you treated for in the ER and what was the cause? You say you blacked out (drank too much?).
Did you have alcohol poisoning?
Did you crash your car?
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A bank is suing me , need advice please
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Did you have alcohol poisoning?
Did you crash your car?
Sometimes I feel like a looser.
Wondering where I went wrong.
This thread made me feel better.
We're here for you .
(unsure which smilie fits best for this sentiment, so you get nothing)
Well cats out of the bag already. One night, drinking heavily in Makaha at a friend's house in the front yard. Last thing I remembered, dancing to UB 40 red red wine then started stumbling & fell to the ground. Freak accident , my head hit a significant sized rock. Apparently EMTs believed too messed up to go to Waianae ER so they drove me all the way to Queens hospital in town. Woke up in the morning to a doctor explaining how lucky that swelling went down in my face because so close to facial surgery. Walked out of the hospital the same day. Phone & wallet lost in chaos night before. Zero way to contact anybody. Only option involved walking to Ala Moana to wait for a friend to exit water after a surf lesson. Finally made it back to Makaha late afternoon. Completely out of commission plus bed ridden for a week.
This reminds me of a flight home from Cabo 15 years ago or so.
I was one row behind the Emergency Row. Being a tall individual, those seats are Golden to me. I asked for them but was denied so of course I already had a chip on my shoulder against those lucky bastiges that scored them. So the two emergency seats in front of me were still vacant and the stewardess were getting the cabin ready for departure. Hell Ya, I could be in luck.
Denied, Clipped, FNA!...A shorter middle aged couple with shitty sytle and aweful color coordination came bouncing down the aisle. Plastic bags and all. Sunburnt. How the hell did these two get the emergency exit row?
The cabin lights go dim and were on the mesa getting ready for takeoff. My neighbors seemed like brown apple cores so my attention was on this couple in front of me.
"So when we get back, we are going to file for divorce and then declare bankruptcy."
That's when we all felt our mass pressing back into the seat. We were lumbering down the runway and just hit V1.
Then they started arguing...in the exit row. I was ready to go ballistic. I took my seat belt off, everything sussed out to lunge over the seat in front of me with the intention to knock that ugly grey and blue pinstripe outfit into a slumber with any attempt on opening that door over the wing mid flight to put their misery to an end.
It wasn't until a few years later I learned it is impossible to open a door mid-flight anymore.
So Ya, I think your supposed to by a new car or at least go to Las Vegas and buy hookers all weekend before you declare BK.
Just don't ask for the emergency seat row.
I was one row behind the Emergency Row. Being a tall individual, those seats are Golden to me. I asked for them but was denied so of course I already had a chip on my shoulder against those lucky bastiges that scored them. So the two emergency seats in front of me were still vacant and the stewardess were getting the cabin ready for departure. Hell Ya, I could be in luck.
Denied, Clipped, FNA!...A shorter middle aged couple with shitty sytle and aweful color coordination came bouncing down the aisle. Plastic bags and all. Sunburnt. How the hell did these two get the emergency exit row?
The cabin lights go dim and were on the mesa getting ready for takeoff. My neighbors seemed like brown apple cores so my attention was on this couple in front of me.
"So when we get back, we are going to file for divorce and then declare bankruptcy."
That's when we all felt our mass pressing back into the seat. We were lumbering down the runway and just hit V1.
Then they started arguing...in the exit row. I was ready to go ballistic. I took my seat belt off, everything sussed out to lunge over the seat in front of me with the intention to knock that ugly grey and blue pinstripe outfit into a slumber with any attempt on opening that door over the wing mid flight to put their misery to an end.
It wasn't until a few years later I learned it is impossible to open a door mid-flight anymore.
So Ya, I think your supposed to by a new car or at least go to Las Vegas and buy hookers all weekend before you declare BK.
Just don't ask for the emergency seat row.
Bank is after you for only $15k. Deal with that first. Cars paid off? Sell them, give the cash to the bank and get something cheaper. Sell whatever crap you have and don't need.
Then deal with the medical debt. I hear if you continue to make payments they can call and give you a hard time, but can't really come after you. That is a conversation for the attorney you are meeting with. Just send them $200 a month or something and I don't think they can even charge interest.
UCSF hospital wanted 15K from me. I told them to eat sh!t, and I would pay them what I could. I just refused to pay that much and told them I thought $2000 was a fair price. I caused one hell of a stink but in the end I paid em $2000 and that was that. The food in that place was sh!t anyway LMAO.
After 50 years of chasing waves and spending 35 years in OB. All the while trying my best to raise a family, buy a house and set myself up for a comfortable retirement, I've come to the conclusion that Surfing is the only sport that can become an obsessive lifestyle. A non-productive, relationship killing, surfing addiction has ruined the lives of hundreds of thousands of men. Many have even turned to crime to finance their lifestyle. 20, 30, 40 years later the lifestyle has led to another waisted life. You are on that path right now, however, you're still young enough to change course. Figure out a way to get out of this short term mess and don't make the same mistake again.
Sadly, yes. Luckily surfing was my only addiction. Also, I was trapped in OB, a Hotel California of sorts. But this isn't about me.
When you say "a Hotel California of sorts" are you referring to the Ebb Tide Motel?
Apparently you know more about the Ebb Tide than I do. Any apartment on any street or alley in the OB War zone could possibly qualify as "a Hotel California of sorts" it's just that the ET is easy to spot.
LOL Nah. For some reason that place always really gave me the creeps whenever I drove by it. Hadn't thought of it in years, but when I saw "OB" and "Hotel California" together the Ebb Tide just popped back into my mind. Its just like the Hotel California but not such a "lovely place" and I don't recall any "pretty face".
For the young who have no idea what you are talking about:
The first song written for the album was "Hotel California", which became the theme for the album.[2] Henley said of the themes of the songs in the album:
| “ | They're the same themes that run through all of our work: loss of innocence, the cost of naiveté, the perils of fame, of excess; exploration of the dark underbelly of the American dream, idealism realized and idealism thwarted, illusion versus reality, the difficulties of balancing loving relationships and work, trying to square the conflicting relationship between business and art; the corruption in politics, the fading away of the Sixties dream of "peace, love and understanding."[2] | ” |
| “ | This is a concept album, there's no way to hide it, but it's not set in the old West, the cowboy thing, you know. It's more urban this time (…) It's our bicentennial year, you know, the country is 200 years old, so we figured since we are the Eagles and the Eagle is our national symbol, that we were obliged to make some kind of a little bicentennial statement using California as a microcosm of the whole United States, or the whole world, if you will, and to try to wake people up and say 'We've been okay so far, for 200 years, but we're gonna have to change if we're gonna continue to be around.'"[3] |
I've lost count of the people I know that forgone everything in life to ensure they never miss a swell. No home, no career, and barely scraping by each month. But, they never miss good waves.
I loved the rumor going around that the owners put the title in their dog's name to absolve themselves of criminal responsibility (it was a known drug den) but the dog ran away because it couldn't handle the stress.
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