Sean charmed a cougarish 40-year-old real estate agent into sharing some info on any empty backyard bowls she might find in her work. This was a HUD home, with a nasty bee nest buried in the deck just psst the coping in the deep end. While we were cleaning out the pool, a real estate agent shows up to show the home. "You guys cleaning? How's it look?" "Pretty bad" Sean answers. Then he sees our boards. "You guys gonna surf it too?" "Yep!" Didn't give a shit, though it was cool. Another real estate agent comes as we're finshing cleaning it up (we hid our boards this time). Didn't give a shit. HUD homes are go. Sean takes it to the shallow, boardslide.
Barney scrapes f-side.
Hoss is so cool he rides with shades on his dome. B-side love seat. We're gonna start calling all love seats and death boxes simply "love boxes."
We'll find beauty in the punishment.
Evidence continues to mount.
Sean went for the light-death several times, then gave up. This wasn't a make, so I pack up and we're about to leave, then he makes it. I suck.
Next pool of the day "Rocket Pocket." Cancerous, a little worn out, tile coping, funny shallow pocket. Evidence of party times.
Sean rolls in as the sun goes down.
Evidence. No, the bottle of Jack wasn't ours.
Another fine Master Pool.
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