Even shorter, Even Redder
Concluding our two-part series on talented red-haired, dwarfish surfers sponsored by Volcom, Stab interviews Hawaii’s brightest young star, Dusty Payne. Dusty pulled up to the curb at Los Angeles International Airport riding shotgun in his manager Blair Marlin’s 2009 Audi A6 Avant 3.0 TFSI 300 hp with six speed Triptronic automatic transmission and Quattro all-wheel drive. It was Phantom Black. Pink’s latest single, So What, blared crisply from Bose surround sound. So what, I’m still a rock star. I got my rock moves. And I don’t need you. Yeah. Dusty opened his door as the car was moving and spilled out the moment it came to a complete stop. They were half an hour late for Dusty’s American flight to Kahului, Maui. Blair looked distressed, but also looked really handsome. Dusty looked carefree. He was wearing a grey Modern Collective t-shirt that was chosen, specifically, to anger his sponsor, Volcom. The T was a size and a half too large. He was also wearing black Volcom jeans perfectly tight and sagged, Nike shoes and a Nixon backpack. And a Nixon watch. The Ceramic Player in black. Dusty is not as short as he appears in pictures. He’s long and stringy with small hands, freckled skin, bleached hair that may have once been red and a perpetual good-natured grin. Blair hurriedly popped the back of his Audi and spilled three large cardboard boxes onto the street, tearing the tops off each when they hit the ground. They were from Volcom and Nixon. He grabbed handfuls of cellophane wrapped t-shirts and stuffed them into Dusty’s board coffin. Dusty looked at me.
Concluding our two-part series on talented red-haired, dwarfish surfers sponsored by Volcom, Stab interviews Hawaii’s brightest young star, Dusty Payne.
Dusty pulled up to the curb at Los Angeles International Airport riding shotgun in his manager Blair Marlin’s 2009 Audi A6 Avant 3.0 TFSI 300 hp with six speed Triptronic automatic transmission and Quattro all-wheel drive. It was Phantom Black. Pink’s latest single, So What, blared crisply from Bose surround sound.
So what, I’m still a rock star.
I got my rock moves.
And I don’t need you. Yeah.
Dusty opened his door as the car was moving and spilled out the moment it came to a complete stop. They were half an hour late for Dusty’s American flight to Kahului, Maui. Blair looked distressed, but also looked really handsome. Dusty looked carefree. He was wearing a grey Modern Collective t-shirt that was chosen, specifically, to anger his sponsor, Volcom. The T was a size and a half too large. He was also wearing black Volcom jeans perfectly tight and sagged, Nike shoes and a Nixon backpack. And a Nixon watch. The Ceramic Player in black. Dusty is not as short as he appears in pictures. He’s long and stringy with small hands, freckled skin, bleached hair that may have once been red and a perpetual good-natured grin.
Blair hurriedly popped the back of his Audi and spilled three large cardboard boxes onto the street, tearing the tops off each when they hit the ground. They were from Volcom and Nixon. He grabbed handfuls of cellophane wrapped t-shirts and stuffed them into Dusty’s board coffin.
Dusty looked at me.
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