Comment of the Week

Posted by lewis on April 12, 2009 at 6:50 am.

Dear Readers:

I just want to formally apologize for not living up to my non-existent promise to provide you with a thought-provoking, meaningful, zany, hilarious post every single fucking day.

Some of you may be experiencing a paranoid suspicion that I'm putting less than 100% into PostSurf lately.  But why???? Some speculate that it's because I'm on a surf trip, and care more about surf than Postsurf. Others suspect it's because I have another job which I'm actually paid to do  - in contrast to this volunteer fuckery.   Who knows what my motives actually are.

Luckily for me, PostSurf is home to the most creative and mentally ill team of commenters in the whole wide surfing blogoshphere.

Don't believe me?  Take a look at Blasphemy Rottmouth's response to the Hieronymus Bosch Reader Challenge. If I actually had advertisers, sponsors or a budget, I'd certainly provide Mr. Rottmouth with the prize he most certainly deserves.  And by prize, I mean years of therapy.


Blasphemy Rottmouth says: April 9, 2009 at 8:22 pm

Here’s my take on this thought provoking post:

1. Christian Fletcher: Easy. He is God. Located in the first frame, He is the father of modern aerial surfing, backdoor soul, and fellow lowrider who loves old Fords, like myself.

2. Quiksilver: The mountains on Hell’s horizon. They vomit forth the glow of Kelly Slater’s throbbing gristle, minutes after he took Giselle Buttchin from behind.

3. SUPers: Those who frolic amongst the serene lake in panel two. Ironically, their gasoline fumes caused the fish to mutate, sprout wings, and fly.

4. Billabong: Duh, the primordial puddle of ooze in the first frame. Birthing a limitless supply of knuckle dragging creatures yet to evolve into creatures possessing enough self awareness to use their opposable thumbs to jack-off the flaccid maggots that dangle betwixt their webbed-foot clad legs.

5. Buzzy Trent: He sits ‘ponst his throne of big wave surfing in the last frame. There, he surveys the carnage of professional surfing about him, and dines on the meaty thigh of Carlos Burle. “Where were you fifty years ago, putz?” Buzzy ponders as femur shrapnel rattles about his cavernous mouth.

6. Sean Collins: Somewhat hard to locate this pile of rotting flesh amongst so much filth and debauchery. Then… SMACK!! There he is. Right before our astonished eyes. Smack dab in the middle of the last frame. His smug expression is subtly obscured by a sombrero sporting various corporate lute players who proudly espouse their keen knowledge of all surf spots heretofore unbeknownst to the peasant masses. His smile reflects the shudders his colon is experiencing as the next wave of “young guns” foolishly make their way up the ladder of success to the gaping asshole of reality. So it goes.

7. Shane Herring: Who? Where? Here? Oh, yeah, he’s the washed up coulda-been who’s passed out on the table in the lower portion of the last frame. It’s probably best he’s not lucid enough to witness any more Slater victories at this point.

8. Richie Collins: Richie resides in the last frame. His exposed buttocks lies just below the gallows, his head buried in the decadent sands of Newport Beach’s obscurity, and his prolapsed rectum dispensing hand-shaped surfboards resembling the fingers of an arthritic geriatric patient.

9. Flea Virostko: Darryl emerges, though it’s hard to see, from the bathhouse in the lower right portion of the middle frame. What he was doing in that bathhouse with other sweaty, nude men… I cannot judge. I only calls it like I sees it. No offense Darryl, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with alternative lifestyles.

10. Chris Cote: Amazingly, he shows up in all three panels. In panel one, he climbs from the primordial ooze with the sad look of realization on his face that, his mind will never evolve beyond that of a tadpole. In the second panel, he has morphed into a tower of Menos Tiny Phallus; in the lake on the upper left corner… and there he spouts forth his devout love of seeing corporate men. Finally, in the last frame, Chris manages an extremely heavy petting session with a swine in nun’s garb – a Mother Teresa, if you will.

All in all, a brilliant masterpiece by Bosch. The painting itself is sexy… like a sexy nightmare. Now, I pray my nightly dose of whisky and Ambien drowns my sorrows for having pained my retinas with this post.


  • The disciple says:

    (Scripture below as writ on the last post)

    “…And on the third day, Postsurf viewers found the blog empty. For Lewis had ascended into his happy place, from which he would again submit an inspired post.” Samuels 3:29

    The believers are still waiting…

    Some are losing faith. Splinter sects are arising.

    Apostates are making their way back to Gomorrah, Surfline, to read the Gudauskas’ Slog Blog.

    To those seeking sarcasm, cynicism, wit, and entertainment on Surfline via the Gudauskas demons, I impart this passage for encouragement:

    “Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary Sean Collins walks about like a roaring lion seeking whom he may devour. Resist him, steadfast in the faith.” (1 Peter 5:8-9)

  • goleftSC says:

    Had i any idea that such a den of swill and corrupted thoughts existed i may have logged onto Postsurf a long time ago. No such diarreha of creativity should be allowed to exist, and I’m curious if you are proud to have such a following, Lewis? Like many spinoffs, you have taken the ‘best’ and the ‘brightest’ fans with you from your indentured servitude at Surfline and have begat a new creation that somehow is the bastardized offspring of, Horror Porn, and The Daily Show. Good Gosh man, what have you done!?

  • Mike says:

    Blasph Rotto kicks the door to convention open wide and steals the metaphorical prize, basks in the spotlight of his pure genius and returns to a keyboard stained in fast food and cheap whiskey…. only to find himself on his stage holding a gold plated award….

    A word from our champion, please…..

  • Blasphemy Rottmouth says:

    Wow! I am honored. And by honored, I mean retarded.

    My apologies for delayed response. I wish I could say that it was because I was too busy surfing perfect waves, or by some stretch lacking in words to express my euphoria, but the sad truth is so much more basic. I am fundamentally a shiftless person that is easily distracted by anything shiny or bouncy. Every time I sit down at my computer to type, I find myself the helpless victim of Ebay and porn, as surely as Ulysses found himself caught between Scylla and Charybdis. Had Charybdis been armed with hot Asian teen on teen action, I’m sure it would have ended badly for the Greeks.

    To make a long story short, as my gift, I’ll gladly accept pesos; which is Spanish for handjobs.

  • Mike says:

    Bravo, Bravo

    and talk about mixing metaphors….. asian teens and Sirens, wow.

    Literary savant and humble “flat spell” author, BR walks off the stage to a paparazzi of bored, California surf photographers who finally have something to shoot.

    “Hey Mr Blasphemy….. is it true that you’re going to recreate the Power Rankings for Surfline?”

    Imagine that Mark….. power rankings with an eclectic “pull” from international/historic metaphors wrapped up in a full “Dennis Miller on MNF” vigor and served up courtesy of the front page of the NY Times!

    “Surfline?, what dribble” BR coughes as he tosses the heavy gold statue from one arm to another, obviously self content.

  • Mark says:

    Great job B. Rot! Reading my comments compared to yours is like watching Nathaniel Curran surfing in a heat against Andy Irons on a biblical ( it IS Easter ) 10 foot day in Tahiti. You are a MAN! I am scared and weak. Have a couple of extra shots on me tonight bro and know that without a doubt you are the undisputed king of Post Surf!
    P.S. Jordy will win Bells. You read it here first.

  • Mark says:

    P.S. I would rather read the New York Times while watching Rachel Maddow make out with Keith Obberman than read the G bros. slog blog.

  • Blasphemy Rottmouth says:

    Mark & Mike,

    You guys are far too kind. In honor of this day, I’m retiring my alter-egos. It was getting kind of weird anyway. And under Dr. Lewis Samuel’s orders, I’m back on my meds. I’ll just go by my rightful birth name of ‘Blasphemy Rottmouth’ from this day forth.

    Don’t blame me for the name, blame my parents… they’re Amish.

  • Mike says:

    Shame on us, Mark….. Lewis is Blasph, jiggy, stu, artie, todd martins penis and Occy’s U. He congratulates himself by proxy (BR) and wallows in the glory of self inflated promotion under the guise of angry alias’.

    Like Eugene Fanning taking all the blame for a rather vapid ex world champ who has seen his window close shut prematurely.

    The Gadauska’s kids are homogenous, perfect for softball Surfline articles.

  • Blasphemy Rottmouth says:

    I only take credit for Occy’s Underbite, A.I’s Dealer, and Magnum Q. Meatwhistle. The others have their own therapists to deal with.

    Now… if Mike and Mark were the same person…

  • Blasphemy Rottmouth says:

    … that leaves us with (4) people that actually comment here!

  • trauzersnake says:

    First, much congratulations to Blasphemy Rottmouth for his well-desrved recogniton. I would have congratulated him sooner, but following today’s high tide, onshore slop, enjoyment of the masters, and the ensuing afternoon tug- I had an amazing jizz bungi cord that took an hour to bring to its cresiendo……it made it down past my knees, all the while trying to spin it off by rotating my cock to and fro……it was like a centifugal gyroscope-but it just wouldn’t give..amazing.

    P.S-We love you Lewis, please keep the economical fuckery going.

  • Mike says:

    Get off your knees, Mark…Trauzer is just making funny, no real.

  • jiggy jig says:

    A blazing bit of rot. Fully enjoyed it. Could almost smell the fumes. B.R. took a tedious assignment and made it worth a good read.

    Agree with Mark that Jordy might have the mo, seize the day, rise from the ashes, raise the bar and all that rot and give us a year worth watching on the cunt tour after all. Not a tough call given that he dominated round one so completely that it looked like he was surfing in the womens event. I expected him to rise up next year but he looks enrgized and suddenly capable of consistancy delivering solid confidence. I hope he can deliver and shock the complacency and dead wood from the tour. It’s a lot to ask of a pup to hold focus……..

    and there is still that nagging problem of big hollow lefts he needs to overcome but until then……

    give us a glimmer, that’s all we need

  • Blasphemy Rottmouth says:

    As far as Bells goes:

    Compadres, let us not write off the name that’s recognized the world over as the face of professional surfing: Dayyan Neve. Let us pray his fated victory at Bells isn’t held back by his uncanny ability to ‘off-the-lip’ his foes to death in the true litmus test of mediocre on-shore closeout conditions that has become the WCT.

    Don’t get me wrong, Dayyan surely can surf…

    …like an epileptic amoeba…

    …Like a beat gunfighter dodging rounds from a Tommy Gun being fired by Ray Charles after smoking twenty-one grams of angel dust…

    …Like a convulsing French Fry krumping in fear as the basket nears the boiling vat of oil..

    …Or, like a trust fund suburbanite doing the Lambada with HIV laced thumb-tacs placed in his shoes after learning his abusive father just got that sobering call from Bernard Madoff’s attorneys.

    …Sounds like the dude that replenishes the toilet seat covers in our restrooms has finally found his replacement.


  • Mark says:

    Why hasn’t Sunny Garcia surfed any of the Wqs events so far this year? I thought he was fired up to rock after coming within a wave or two at BOMBING Sunset of qualifying in 2008? That day was crazy and it was a shame to see a warrior like Sunny grind it out all year and get a nine point something and then get hung out to dry by his mistress Paumalu needing only a small score. I have noticed that none of you Post Surf pussies hiding behind aliases have the balls to call out Mr. Garcia. Afraid of getting your butt kicked B. Rot?

    I guess winning a world title like Sunny did is nothing compared to ” comment of the week ” on Post Surf.
    P.S. I heard a rumor that B. Rot is actually Alex Knost.

  • Blasphemy Rottmouth says:


    It’s physically impossible for me to make fun of Sunny Garcia.

    Sunny once slapped a Japanese dude so hard it killed his ancestors, which technically made him a World War 2 Ace Fighter Pilot. And the reason people fear him in large surf is because he has webbed feet… on each taint hair. Moreover, he surfs on boards crafted of gilded splinters garnered from the discarded toilet handrails from the Vatican.

    Last, but not least, Sunny Garcia once raped his own urethra with his own weenie.

    You figure that shit it out.

    My respect lies firmly with Da Hui. Nalu! Mütherfücker!

  • Blasphemy Rottmouth says:

    Shiiiitt! I almost forgot; Sunny Garcia once made a toaster out of a living houlie human head. ‘Nuff said.

  • Mark says:

    I hope you enjoy longboarding at Blackies tomorrow B. Rot. Just do me a favor and take a break from those hot tub parties with dudes in sailor hats. My mom back in Alabama checked out this site to see what all the fuss was about and the first thing she saw was you…err.. Alez Knost in that now infamous picture.

    It confirmed her belief that surfing and California-Hawaii in general is full of homosexuals. She is now offering my family and I free one way tickets back to God’s Country which is actually kind of enticing since sales are down and summer flatness is rapidly approaching the North Shore of Oahu.

    Free golf at the country club, killer homes for $80,000 and no Brazilians. Plus I can still keep up with the surfing world via the internet and I can get REALLY mean and specific on Post Surf without fear of being outed thus igniting retaliation the likes which has not been seen since Rabbit and Ian were holed up playing solitaire at the Kui back in 76′.

  • Mike says:

    Where to start….

    Blasph, Sunny is slow and heavy and onto his third trophy….. wife. Your trying too hard and attempts that fall short of your award winning performances detract from your “legacy”.

    Jigg, is that contest still running? I love the Jordy worship after one round, but Dane’s exit doesn’t leave the door wide open. And whose going to beat Kelly in fat, sloppy rights? Stay glued to your computer screen for the action, the waiting period ticks away and the weather is looking pretty sus…..

    Kind of funny how Mark’s whole family escaped God’s country and now can be lured back by free golf and Mommies free tickets back to hell.

  • Mark says:

    You better watch your mouth Mike!

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