Yesterday I went to the Manhattan Beach six man tournament. Basically, if you are not from the area or you’ve never been it’s wall to wall people in less than nothing getting fucking wrecked on the beach while other wrecked people play volleyball. It’s about as much fun as anyone can plan to have on a Saturday afternoon at the beach.
I rode my bike 12 miles to get there so that once I was stupendously drunk I wouldn’t have to drive or do anything labor intensive. Then I got to the beach and chugged vodka and beers with friends and strangers alike while watching a couple of awesome games of volleyball. Most of them played by my good friends who were on the Texas team. The team probably had a much better name, but I was busy being wasted and didn’t ask or didn’t pay attention, which is actually the same thing I think.
The end of the day was characterized by me trying to figure out a way to stay longer. The sun was setting and I’d had enough sun, booze and volleyball to fill me up for the rest of the year. So I peddled my ass home. 12 miles returning is not nearly as easy as when you’re heading down, but what can do you do? You ride, that’s what.
If you like booze or boobs or the beach, and hopefully a mix of all three then I’d recommend attending the Manhattan Beach Six-Man Tournament next year. It’s worth the price of admission, which is likely your soul and your patience, cause sitting in a pool of people packed like a stuffed suitcase, can drive you to madness.
Sabrina, I fucking love your site. Damn good pics throughout.
wired