Invest 99L may become TS Gaston. Something also brewing near Bermuda

Lows attract lows. If a nice trough sets up west of the Bermuda high, which is kinda east of normal for this time of year, it could draw the next few blobs up that way into our wave window. Make sure your leash strings are new and properly fastened to your shred stick. I've done the properre sand reconne - there is lots of sand everywhere. The outside bars are waiting to feel some swell.

 

It's getting interesting. This high level reconne is important b/c SI modeling does not pick it up until the last minute (tropical energy). It does much better picking up local wind swells and mid period stuff. Not sure why they can't project longer period stuff...even if they have to choose between one of the models (i.e. euro).

Anyway, this could be the best opportunity for the SI tropical season EC party bus. We need a Volunteer. I'm thinking Yankee only b/c he is self employed (I think), he has money (of coarse we would pay to play), he understands liability coverage (I'm assuming), and if anyone gets outta hand he will put the asshat in place.

So, a tour bus is too blatant and a Winnebago is too wrong. I'm thinking school bus. Have y'all seen that commercial with the house crushing on wheels with a full on house party going?

Set the dates, check(in) points...LBI (New England guys have to drive) eastern shore, VB, outer banks , SE Carolina , an Florida (SC Boyz check point N or S), and central/south Fl.

There would need to be a decision making crew b/c you hitches can't agree on anything.

SI 2016 tropical ob(seshion)! Don't be scared.

P.S. Barry is donating one stock position to fund the gas

 

Incests are an ugly thing...but, you know, one can't help but watch.

 

its always north or south if you live in SC.

 

not inn da south...viva la south.

 

Way, WAY inadvance...but gets me excited.

 

I want on the bus. The wave-less summer has been unbearable in NE.

 

I'm ready to roll out! Consider it done

https://www.google.com/search?q=mag...UICSgC&biw=1536&bih=770#imgrc=9_zOzyk6X4xOhM:

Or maybe we do the double-decker version?

Gaff's gotta be in charge of vehicle wrap graphics on this thing.

 

Hell yes. Not just a bus but a magic bus. Before you get on, you have to paint your sign or whatever on the side as a liability waiver (Bring your own paint). No flowers though (except Betty and Caroline).

Need a designated driver....I think Cdog would probably be the best choice.

 

The truth only hurts if your an uninvited family member late to the party!

Bon Voyagee, homies!

 

surfline said its going to be a super busy cane season according to noaaa.said they compare it to 2012,i don't remember any canes in 20012 other than sandy.is that good or bad lol,will we get another sandy,i highly doubt it.

its just hard to predict surf with hurricanes,sure we can track them,but theres a lot of other variables involved,wind,tides,full moon,high pressure systems.in an ideal world,what we want,well atleast what I want is a cat 3 with a high pressure right over nj to keep that storm offshore the entire time.when they move inland they lose power.a ts moving across the middle of the atlantic,5k miles away isn't going to create a ripple lol

I'm more excited to see what winter brings.we had a hot summer,so theyr saying this winter we will have a lot of storms.a lot of storms equal to a lot of waves

 

Gaston. What a ghey name. I'd name it Gangrene or Ganorea or Ganja.

 

http://www.tropicaltidbits.com/analysis/models/gfs/2016081918/gfs_mslp_pcpn_seus_41.png

It's only a model...'Tis a silly place.

 

Speakin' of incest.....

How do the locals celebrate Halloween in West Virginny?




Pump kin.

 

^^^^^HA!!!

In Vermont about 5 years ago(?) I acquired the oldest house in this ancient little village Ina mountain valley. If there were no power lines or cars you would think it was 1840. All original houses and a dairy farm. The ppl who owned the dairy farm was the oldest family in the village-- the dynasty. Their family had owned all of the land and probably all of the houses at one time or another. They still had 1000+ acres and at least 6 homes throughout the village and town as a whole. And as a matter of public record, the reigning elders were cousins. Cousins procreated in the room I called my bedroom. They produced four pale ginger offspring. Public record no secret. I mean ****-- they didn't have running water when they grew up. Pavement was two towns over. Can't blame them. Anyway--- one of the incest sons ran the dairy farm. I was looking to sell and he said he needed a place to house his farm workers, especially his "night milkers" (a term one would think referred to creeps at highway rest stops and adult theaters, but actually a fundamental part of dairy production). I offered to sell the house back to his family (bought it off his sister who bailed and moved to Brooklyn) for exactly what I paid for it. Take a hit on the improvements and walk away clean. He declined, but it was a fair offer. Instead he put a bright yellow used trailer right in front of my mountain/brook view for his night milkers. He took an axe to the serenity of the village and value of my house. I chased him through the neighborhood screaming "you get that ****ty trailer off my village you ungrateful c--"!! I called my lawyer and had a meeting: can I transform my big old farm house into the Vermont Incrst Bed n Breakfast? It's public record. I could create a website renting rooms on a price scale of grotesquerie, showing pictures of the ginger incrstuous kids who grew up in each room, and the master suite--- where it all went down-- would fetch the most. Like Lizzy Borden house or other haunted inns in the west. I was the most animated client he had. He told me the family was loaded and they could sue me until I ran out of money fighting it despite having some questionably legal right to sell the experience based on facts. I gave up. Sold the house to a Lithuanian woman and her Mexican boyfriend. Small payback? Nah.

 

Haha, U2B.

Let's hope our incests pack that kinda punch!

 

INCEST, a game for the family, by Milton Bradley.