This guy manages to reinforce everything I hate about surfers without even being one. What is it about dirty hippies that they can keep their center of gravity for crap like this, but remembering how to get to the actual party, or who's party it is, if there is a party, and where my 6 bags of Cool Ranch Doritos went requires a GD miracle? So you're a chain surfer? Tubular. Aloha, asshole.