For my first post, I will start of with the most recent incident, but far from the worst, I was involved in. It all started about 3-4 weeks ago, in Santa Cruz, California. We will start off the day before the incident, the events that took place in the next 24 hours are more than likely what caused my brain to fail to function properly the following afternoon. The morning started out sunny, and windless, great, perfect for a early morning surf. Okay, okay so it was around 11:30 already, but I'm sticking to my story, perfect surf conditions. I drove to a secret beach on the other end of town... to find there were "only" 8 guys out in the water, JOY! Well, I only told three people about the spot, so at least I know who to exclude from my next party invite list. Anyways, back on track, after an epic surf session with my 8 new friends, which actually turned into 14, (but who's counting) I found 3 seperate cars pulled over by cops on the side of the road. The thing is, I normally go 10-15 over the speed limit because the road is usually empty, so good thing those other 3 car's (thanks guys and gals) took the bait for me. The rest of daylight was pretty basic, so I wont go into detail. The night started at about 8'ish if I remember correctly, where Eddie, Amber, Gabe and I boozed up at our house, and then cruised to meet up with Jennifer to have a few more drinks as well as dinner at a restaurant. A few rum and cokes later, Eddie Gabe and I decide to go to the liquor store to buy a bottle of rum and a 2 liter of Diet Coke, yes, I said diet, fuck sugar. Anyways, we start to down that bottle of rum and drive to the Boardwalk for a concert. We rock the shit out of that, then end up at a party at a random house where we ended up knowing lots of people, but we have to leave because a certain "little princess" was puking out in the parking lot. Just as were about to leave of course, 4 cop cars pull up out front to bust up the party. After a bit of trying to evade police, by hiding behind houses and in parking lots, extremely drunk thinking were spy's or some shit hiding in the shadows, we confront the officers. Good thing Eddie put on his thinking cap, or should I say beer dispenser helmet, and saves the night by telling two lady officers that "this", hunched over his car, giving it a great big hug, is "his car", and he "will not be driving it". Good thing you pointed that out, Eddie. Luckily the two officer's were nice enough, and gullible enough to believe we ordered a cab that will be there any minute. Fortunately, someone does call a cab and it arrives after sitting on a bus bench for a half an hour. We then take the cab back to Amber's house (mansion), and make grilled cheese sandwiches while talking about... I blanked out from there, I can't remember much, except falling onto a bed that was straight out of a fairytale. It looked like a bed for a princess...oh wait, that's right, it had a princess in it. I quickly fell out of it and then went to sleep in the next room. The next morning we all woke up....yes, extremely hung over. Again, it's a blur until about 2 that afternoon, when I got a call from Eddie to cruise down to the beach, because him, Amber and Little Princess were down there. After getting a syco text message from a syco ex girlfriend(if you ever read this...FUCK OFF, no one likes you), I decided to cruise down to the beach. Now remember, I am EXTREMELY hung over. So I grab my backpack, and my skate and start to cruise down to the beach. I am skating extremely fast, and am approaching a hill. Now if you are familiar with the trussel hill leading to the Capitola Village, you know it's steep. So, being extremely hung over, my brain was not functioning properly. I am approaching the hill going pretty fast, I would say 20Mph because the cars were barley passing me. I see a car approaching behind me, and the hill has no room for me to be on the side of it, so I decide to go in front of the car. I continue to pick up speed, and then start declining the hill, picking up more speed. About half way down the hill, I would guess I was going 35mph - 40mph at least, because the car behind me that was going minimum 25mph, was far behind and still fading. My hung over brain finally clicks into reality, I'm going too fast, so naturally I put my right foot down to slow down, bad idea. Going that fast, I never had a chance. I have never skated this fast, and didn't realise that once I took one foot off the board, it was already all over, after about 2 extreme speed wobbles, I lost control. From there, I fell onto my left arm, which gave out, breaking something in my wrist, elbow as well as possibly something in my shoulder. -Snap- Scrapping on the pavement, also known as Road Rash. Quick instinct sprung in, and within 1/100 of a second, and 6 or so feet of sliding on the pavement, I realized the best thing to do is roll over onto my back, because I was wearing a backpack. Plus my arm didn't have any skin on it anymore -Crackle-, so whats the point of sliding on that anymore. At this point, my left arm from my wrist to my elbow is being very harshly burned, fun's over for you little buddy. So I slide onto my back and realize my backpack doesn't cover my whole back, because I could feel the skin burning off on my lower back-Pop-, luckily that only lasted for about 10 more feet, and I came to a stop. I quickly jumped up, grabbed my skate and thanked the lady driving behind me for not running me over. She insisted she help me because it was "the most horrific thing she had ever seen", but I insisted I was okay, hiding my extensively bleeding arm from her sight. So I went off, and skated.....yes, skated the rest of the way down the hill to the beach. Smile on face, I showed Eddie and he insisted I go get a "Band-Aid", hahaha, because it might get dirty or infected in the water. Finally I agreed and started home, about 15 min later the pain amplified 100 times, but I wrapped it up nice and good and skated back to the beach.
I have included a picture for your enjoyment.
1 comment:
i only wish i had a picture to document my road rash for you to see...
okay, so i'm gonna leave out most of the details...but basically, I was in bonny doon at my friends parents house for their wedding. sick wedding by the way. so yeah, im in my new dress, heels, hair, the whole nine yards being all girly and what not, and then the music starts. yes, i'm drunk already...well, let's say, tipsy... the dance floor is on the lower level of the yard, and you have to take these sketchy ass steps made out of rail road ties and filled in with sand to get down there... anyhoo, i'm carrying beers and champagne, as many as i can handle all by myself for the bridal party who is already boogeying down on the dance floor, so i get about 2 steps down, and then my super cute favorite heels sink into the sand, and boom... there i go. i completely stack... and i mean staaaaack. i think i must have slid down the next 2 or 3 steps... aka rail road ties... which was probably about 6 feet, and which translates to inbetween my bare legs and a rail road tie with gnarly amounts of sand in between, which also translates to gnarly criss crossing skin lascerations across my entire left leg from ankle to knee (okay, let's be real, i'm only 5'0'' so that's what... 8 inches or something? but still! it's my whole friggin leg) where the sand was the wonderful sandpaper that thankfully helped my soft sweet skin come to a screeching halt. awesome. So yeah, i jump up, (saved all the beer and champage don't ya know) assure everyone around me that i am absolutely fine, and walk (run) down the rest of the stairs to the dance floor. so i deliver the drinks to my friends who are seriously shaking it by this point, and go to sit down with my other friend to see how my leg is. and of course when we finally look down, my leg is so cut up and it's so bloody i might as well have been wearing red tights... awesome again. so i end up back in the main house, a little drunker at this point cuz i think i was handed like 3 glasses of champagne which i quickly downed. and i sat in the bathroom sink while my girlfriend washed off my leg (yep, i sat in the sink, cuz again, my legs are how long?) w the most horriifically painful soap in the world, but hey, i kept drinking champagne, so it was cool. and theeeeeen, i decided, fuck this, i'm not gonna sit this one out... and i went and swigged off a champagne bottle with my dearest bride girlfriend and dropped it like it's hott all night long on the dance floor... and to top off the super gnarly road rash night... i believe i started flowing on the dj's microphone about their wedding to them... money! yeah, road rash, alcohol, and a dance floor,... it's always a good time...
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