Sometimes when you’re sitting in the doldrums of the Atlantic you get to thinking about if the moon is truly made of ribs, or if you were in the mouth of a whale would it be peaceful or utterly terrifying, and damn, a cold beer would be nice right now.
A few of those thoughts got us to where we are today… perched on the edge of the ocean, canning cold beer and praying for swell to brew us out of these horse latitudes into the bliss of eternal peace and love and a slight beachy buzz.
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