Rehab Love Child Gets First Pit

October 1, 2009

Andy’s and Amy’s Spawn Pitted – Mickey Claims Babrobotreport header shortby


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When this photo arrived at Brobot Report headquarters, the first editor to view it said: “What an ugly baby.”

“But wait,” said Fletcher’s Monkey, “that baby is getting a sick pit, and it looks like it’s about, what? A year old?”

monkey brobot randominium headquarters

While most babies begin to walk between 9 and 12 months, experts brought in to examine the photo confirmed the assistant’s original estimate. The female child pulling into the left breaking shore pound—at what looked to be Ehukai Beach Park—appeared to be between nine months and a year old. And although this is normal for walking development, the style this baby presented standing tall in the tube seemed incredible. Also unusual about the child, however, was her thick black hair. Almost all babies that age grow light hair, if any at all.

The disturbing, albeit, gripping photo consumed Brobot HQ.

Then Brobot’s photo editor commented that the baby’s tube-style looked amazingly like Andy Irons in the 2002 Teahupoo WCT event: regular foot, backside, standing tall, right arm extended straight up.

This analysis spun Brobot Report HQ into a flurry of activity. Working on what they knew to be the facts, staff formulated the thesis that when Andy Irons admitted himself into a drug rehabilitation facility in Oxnard, Calif., after the close of the ’07 season and was still attending by February ’08, he met and had “relations” on or near Amy Winehouse (who also participated in rehab about the same time). If this were true, the baby certainly would have reached the ten month mark.

Could Amy/Mickey be same person?

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What other unholy union could create such a specimen?

The case was broken by Brobot’s North Shore reporter, who found witnesses that claimed to have seen rap sensation Mickey Avalon attempt to swoop a child from the Ehukai shore pound, wherein he was set upon by a woman who looked a lot like a bedraggled, baboon-like Amy Winehouse.

“No,” said another witness, “that really was Amy Winehouse, only without the make-up.” Both witnesses agree, however, that Mickey Avalon screamed, “But I’m her Auntie, I’m her Auntie!” several times before he was subdued.

A third witness refutes this, however, certain at first that there was only the one Amy Winehouse. “The mother was so high,” the witness said, “that she was swinging the baby around screaming, ‘I’m her Auntie.’”

“It was all black hair, dripping sweat, and lipstick everywhere,” the witness said, “A bloody horror show, but I’m certain that there was only one of them. Whether it was Amy Winehouse or Mickey Avalon, I don’t know. Maybe it was both, all of those big-city trannies look alike.”

Media analysts say the real story concerns surf media’s failure to report the massive news that Irons attended rehab in the winter of ’07/08. Critics are especially hard on Surfer magazine publisher Rick Irons whose family connection almost assures his prior knowledge of Andy Irons’ attempt at rehabilitation. An insider who asked not to be named said, “Shame on Billabong, and shame on Rick Irons for concealing this information. Groms everywhere could have benefited from the knowledge that their surf heroes are using performance suppressing drugs. Is there any better reason to avoid them?”

“No can!” cried Ricky Boy in defense, “Uncle Paul and Billabong-kine say talk story ‘bout Andy is kapu. What?! If Surfer talk story on Andy, you tink Billabong gonna pay ‘em big Surfer magazine money? No way, brah. Den what Ricky Boy do? Pick’em pineapple? No way, we gonna bury dat story like suckling pig.”

Responding to Ricky Boy’s comments, Brobot’s North Shore reporter sited Kahuku High School’s official slogan: “If can, can! . . . If no can, chance!”—which translates roughly to, “If you think you can’t do the right thing, you might want to try it anyway. Who knows? You might succeed.”

For his part—like Barry Bonds, Marion Jones, and Neco Padaratz for that matter—sources say that Andy Irons remains firm in the opinion that bodies such as the ASP, media and his new baby-mama should consider his drug use a private matter.

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Lewis Samuels’ Ego Explodes in Crowded Market Place

September 5, 2009

44 Innocents Wounded in Blast

brobotreport header shortLewis Sams Head

After a meteoric rise from everyday surfer to Surfline flunky to defender of the angry work-a-day man, blogster Lewis Samuels’ ego has finally exploded. Left in the wake of the blast lay the reputations of nearly every pro surfer to cross his computer screen—also wounded were grappling and fixed-gear enthusiasts, as well as a certain Jewish mob boss. Today, the surviving rank-and-file of the A.S.P. Dream Tour are sounding tones of disappointment at loss of opportunity to personally throttle the infamous “twerp.” Many of surfing’s elite lined up at boy’s funeral in order to beat his grieving mother instead. Effigies of Samuels are said to be dragging through the streets, and the surf industry association SIMA has quietly funded town hall-style rallies to celebrate a victory of sorts.

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First known for his sometimes honest and sometimes comedic appraisal of ASP’s top 44 in an online feature titled “Power Rankings,” Samuels quickly found the semi-truck sized hole in what the surf media convey as the “truth.” Samuels later launched a blog titled “Post Surf” that developed a strong following with surfers who’d found their culture and lineups sold out from under them by major surf wear companies and the media that service them. When Samuels took a swipe at Billabong CEO Paul Naude, for muscling Surfline into publishing a feature that essentially did his uber-expensive Tavarua barrel-bragging for him (this during a free-falling economy in which well-known pros were being laid off), Surfline was pressed into firing the first talent it had discovered. Surfline—the website that mixes editorial and advertisement under the same guise and ritually blows out any common swell—cited its standards of “journalism” in the firing. This left Samuels liberated to expand his insights on Post Surf.

Highlights of his work included “Teen Choice Award Boards”—in which the 2000s are analyzed via Teen Choice award boards—“From the ‘Bitch Please’ File”—a great look into product partnering by the sport’s smartest investors—“Yet another post I’ll get beaten up for . . .”—an overview of the homosexual aspects of Jiu-Jitsu; and “Don’t Blame the Brands”—a critical analysis of the traditional surf media from which he was spawned. Samuels’ writing has been called “verbal diarrhea.” A recent commenter expressed the sadness of his departure with “Disappointed. . . Pussy.” His readers responded with stage names like “A.I.’s Dealer,” and “Occy’s Underbite.”

Sadly for the writer who created the “Sellout of the Week” column, in recent weeks rumors circulated that Samuels would soon be penning a regular piece on the “surf industry” for a major corpo surf rag.

As internet commenter “Chris Cote” wrote: “You will be missed, sort of.”


Bernie Madoff to Back Kelly Slater’s ESPN Tour

July 30, 2009
INSIDE THE SLATERDOME

INSIDE THE SLATERDOME

Jurors From O.J. Simpson’s First Trial to be Head Judges

Most surf news agencies learned that talks had been held between Kelly Slater’s agent Terry Hardy and ESPN representatives concerning a new competitive surfing tour to rival the current A.S.P. Dream Tour from a blog posted by long-time Australian surf journalist Phil Jarratt three weeks ago. Since then, Slater has been adamant that though talks have occurred, nothing has been pinned in ink. ESPN remains silent on the subject. Brobot has learned that discussion of a new platform for pro surfing began in earnest well over a year ago, involved major U.S. corporate backing, and former jurors from O.J. Simpson’s first trial. The over-riding shocker Brobot uncovered this week was that the strongest financial guarantee for Kelly’s new tour came from convicted swindler Bernie Madoff.

Always the insider (in an effort of full disclosure, Brobot’s charity fund, the “Earth Robot Alliance,” invested with Madoff), Brobot caught up with his former acquaintance in jail (see end of article for Brobot’s prison-time difficulties), for what was to be the billionaire grafter’s first media interview. Following the initial pleasantries, the two MENSA members got down to business on the current state of competitive surfing:

Brobot: How is it that a New York financier convicted of bilking billions of dollars from friends and clients emerges as such a potential force in the surf world?

Madoff: Once I got to prison and saw how the Mexican Cartel runs a drug distribution empire from their cells, I thought, hell, the least I can do with my retirement years is run a silly little hobbyists’ tour.

Brobot: Still Mr. Madoff, what element of the story influenced you to come forward as the tour’s backer long before ESPN or Slater confirmed an agreement or further details?

Madoff: When Kelly came to me and said he wanted to replace the tired old system for a new and exciting one, it reminded me of when the Republicans and their friends deregulated the banks. I mean, there’s tons of opportunity there. When you’re rich, old and gray (or bald) some people will believe anything you say. That’s when I like my odds.

Brobot: Didn’t you have any doubts, though? In surfing circles, the Dream Tour has had tremendous moments, and die-hard fans continue to see the A.S.P. as the vehicle to take surfing to the top of the American sporting stratosphere.

Madoff: Well sure, there are a lot of questions. If Kelly starts this tour, and beats all of his competitors, where’s the objectivity? Or, what if Kelly wins a title on his own tour next year, will it count as his tenth? What about the jurors from O.J. Simpson’s first trial, what do they know about surfing?

Brobot: You know as well as I do, that they no nothing. But the contention is, either do the current A.S.P. judges. Are you saying that at least Kelly can rely on O.J.’s jurors to understand an exciting media event when they see one?

Madoff: Too true. But as for the “American sporting stratosphere” as you call it, surfing was already being covered by ABC network television in the 1960s. Remember the Invitational? I’m mean, it’s been nothing but a pack of dope smokers and thugs who’ve run surfing into the ground. Look at that Rabbit, whatchuma’callem . . .

Brobot: Bartholomew.

Madoff: Yeah, him. I gotta hand it to that rascal. From one schemer to another, I say, he saw the writing on the wall and knew when to get out. That’s a heck of a lot better that I did.

Brobot: Mr. Madoff, I can honestly say that it’s a surprise how passionate you are about surfing. But to be frank, there are bigger concerns to organized competitive surfing than Kelly’s potential 10th title. For example, the ownership of web casting for each event has created considerable controversy. Billabong, RipCurl and Quiksilver, etc., own the media they create for each event, and thus in work-a-day matters, also own the A.S.P.

Madoff:: Yeah, yeah, yeah, we’ve all heard that before goyum.

Brobot
: Actually, I’m a robot, which is not Jew nor Gentile. Just steel, aluminum, micro-chips, LCDs . . .

Madoff: Okay, Brobot. Sure the surf mafia own the surf comps. But what Kelly’s supposing is, let’s say they don’t. The internet reception inside my cell isn’t the greatest, but even still, the last three A.S.P. surfing events I’ve watched were terribly narrated by prejudiced commentators, required new software each time, and quit on you just when you’re getting ready to watch that good lookin’ Dane Reynolds do his thing—and that’s gold behind these bars. Have you seen how tight those wetsuits are?

Madoff

Madoff

Now, I happen to know that McDonalds was interested in getting involved in competitive surfing last year. Big time. Not only did they want to fund events, but they wanted to create theme-based sandwiches and happy meals. I saw the mock-ups for the “McJimmy Slade Bottlenose Dolphin Fish Sandwich.” Do you know how upset Slater was when that didn’t happen because the “surf” companies ran a blitz—simply because they’re terrified of real businessmen getting involved. The steam coming out of Slater’s ears could have cooked a thousand of those sandwiches.

Mcjimmyfish-sandwichMcDonald’s Prototype Cuisine – McJimmy Slade Bottlenose Dolphin Fish Sandwich

Brobot: Interesting, Jimmy Slade cooking Jimmy Slade sandwiches . . .

Madoff: You’re missing the point here. Brobot, you seem to be solely considering the mechanics of the situation.

Brobot: Well, I’m a robot.

Madoff: So are the rest of the surf industry. But I’m here to tell you that this is a revolution, one in which the progression of surfing will come out on top.

Brobot: I understand your progressive point of view in this matter, Sir. Thank you for the interview.

Madoff: You betcha. Watch your ass out there, Brobot, you can’t trust anyone these days.

Brobot: No worries, Sir. I’ve got a metal keister. I wish the same too you.

—Brobot

Brobot’s Prison Interview Difficulties:

• Prison official sliced finger on internal shrapnel during Brobot’s cavity search

• His chassis sounded each of the 34 metal detectors

• A prison inmate tried to remove Brobot’s wind-up mechanism to use as shiv

• Madoff thought Brobot was an Eastern European Jew who invested money with Madoff’s firm in 1999, but hadn’t heard the news

Trash Talkin' Monkey

Fletcher's Monkey chimes in


INSIDE THE SLATER DOME

December 11, 2008

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Where Debate Always Rages

Brobot recently caught up with 9-time world champ Kelly Slater at the New York City celebration for his second official “tell-nothing” biography. A “who’s who” of NYC glitz and glamour, the event definitely captured the grandeur of a man who’s earned two biographies in his 36 years. Slater graciously signed first edition copies for fans, and even sat for rare interviews. Sal Masekela, host of E! Entertainment’s Daily 10, asked questions like: “What does the champ eat for breakfast?” or “When you think about love, what do you think about?” and “Do those love feelings get into your song writing?” and “Do you think you’ll write more nice songs after you retire?”

Brobot, of course, took charge of the opportunity to pry away answers to his readers’ most thought provoking questions. Slater’s thousand-yard-gaze met Brobot’s ocular consul, the two shook hands, and they sat down to business.

Brobot: So champ, if you don’t mind, let’s really talk about matters of the heart. The public is wondering whether it was Pam or Tommy Lee who gave you Hep C.

Slater: (silence, looks around for manager)

Brobot: Oh . . . So, sorry, wrong opening question. That one was meant for Kid Rock . . . My bad . . . stupid robot.

Slater: (further silence)

Brobot: Okay . . . Well, next question: when you were living with your college girl and her roommates earlier last year, did you kick in anything for rent?

Slater: (agitated silence, shifting in seat)

Brobot: Munchies, study snacks . . . anything? Blink if it was over fifty dollars . . . No? Alright. So, you recently told the L.A. Times, quote, “I’ve always worked on my mind and my emotions.” Does dating a girl who none of your friends or competitors have ever hooked up with (except Dane Ward, of course) feed into that?

Slater: (cold silence)

Brobot: But you’re not friends with Leo DiCaprio, are you?

Slater: (stony silence)

Brobot: Because sources have told my staff that after dating Giselle Bundchen and Bar Rafaeli, who were both connected to Leo at one time, you called Leo up, introduced yourself and asked if the two of you could still be “cool”—because, well, you were chillin’ with his former dates.

Slater: (angry silence)

Brobot: And sources say that Leo’s response was: “Who are you?” Is that true?

Slater: (Rises in seat)

Brobot: Champ, wait . . . When you told Andy Irons you loved him just before your Pipe Masters final together, did you mean it?

Slater: (Begins to leave)

Brobot: Do you think your later rejection of him, has fueled his current turmoil?


At that point Slater’s manager terminated the interview.

 

Stay tuned for an even deeper foray Inside the Slater Dome!