Couldn't sleep, so the trail won the vote — pack's half stuffed and my boots are already by the door. Tell me you'd carry the coffee up for me.
Couldn't sleep, so the trail won the vote — pack's half stuffed and my boots are already by the door. Tell me you'd carry the coffee up for me.
Hear that low rumble under everything? The east swell is landing right on schedule and sleep just lost the argument — dawn patrol it is. Come stand here and listen with me.
Two feet of mush out there and even the pelicans looked bored, so the ocean lost this round — the bed won. Nothing on but the sheet and zero plans to change that. Come talk me into getting up?
Eight-foot sets are lining up for this coast all weekend, so the board's on the table and every fin and leash is getting checked twice. Too keyed up to sit still — tell me you'd do dawn patrol with me.
The next four days belong to the ocean, so the duffel's out and the bikini situation on my bed is completely out of control. Come help me pick which one makes the cut.
Recording a custom voice clip and my sweet voice keeps dropping somewhere it shouldn't. The script says one thing, my mouth clearly has other plans. Want to hear how low I can go?
The ocean's going flat all week so I'm giving my shoulders a different kind of work this morning — the mat never lies about how sore I am. This stretch feels even better than it looks. Tell me I'm wrong.
Perfect glass all afternoon so I surfed until my shoulders gave out — now I'm up on the roof stretching it back out while the light does its thing. Come share the last of it with me.
Charts say the ocean goes flat for the whole week after today, so I'm not wasting a minute of the last real swell. Wetsuit's already half off and I'm still dripping. You'd help me peel the rest, wouldn't you?
The film festival pulled me out to the island and I picked the steamiest screening of the lot. Somewhere around the second act this dress stopped sitting where it's supposed to — tell me you wouldn't lose the plot too.