Rest Easy, Hippie.

The tide recedes but leaves behind

Bright seashells on the sand.

The sun goes down, but gentle warmth

Still lingers on the land.

The music stops, yet echoes on

In sweet, soulful refrains.

For every joy that passes,

Something beautiful remains.

As I know most of you are aware, we lost a legend over the holiday weekend. Hippie left us while doing what he loved most, camping on Washburn Island with his beautiful fiancé, family and friends. He went the way I’m sure he wanted to, surrounded by the ocean and those he loved. You don’t get more Cape Cod than that.

I’ve been staring at a blank page for days trying to put into words what we’re all feeling while also being sure to make Hippie proud. That’s when it hit me; the last thing that bastard would want is some sort of memorial about how great he was and how much I’ll miss him. Then again, I’ve always prided myself on doing the exact opposite of what he told me to, so here goes.

Visitation will be held at Chapman Cole & Gleason in Falmouth on Sunday, July 10th from 3:00-7:00pm

A burial service will take place at St. Joseph’s Cemetery on Monday, July 11th at 11:00am, immediately followed by a Celebration of Life at the Coonamessett Inn

All are welcome.



The first time I met Hippie was at The Beach House restaurant after he had reached out, aiming to recruit me as a writer. He showed up an hour late, shit faced, with some man-child he introduced as Ham Sandwich. I had no idea what to think but the second we sat down and he started talking about the site and his vision, I knew I had to jump on board. And I’m thankful every day that I did.

Who else do you know that can turn a dream into a fully functioning website that thousands of people follow? Or think up a god damn music festival and fill it with local talent and music lovers? Who else organized parties, functions and gatherings that gave back to the community we grew up in? No one. Because Hippie was one of a kind.

I mean that man literally made his dreams come true while sitting on his couch, pantless, talking shit. I want to be more like Hippie.

If we all take even a fraction of his love for life, music and hometown loyalty, the world will be a better place.

My thoughts are with everyone who had the privilege to know and love Hippie, especially his family and amazing fiancé.

Rest easy and may the waves carry you home, Damien.

*If anyone has pictures of Hippie for the memorial, please send to [email protected]


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Twitter: Hippie - Insane Tony

Ebola epidemic? How about heroin?

Addiction plagues states, towns, families and groups of friends. It doesn’t care about your ethnicity or how much money you make. It doesn’t care about your responsibilities or promises to others. Whether it’s alcohol, drugs or even spending habits; addiction has no prejudice with who and what it claims.

I read an article today from the Hyannis News that stopped me in my tracks;

“Sources report friends were trying to load an unconscious, limp, and gravely afflicted overdose victim into a taxi cab. The cab driver fortunately refused and witnesses in the neighborhood quickly phoned police.” – Hyannis News

THIS is what our beautiful home has turned into as a direct result of addiction and in this particular case, the heroin epidemic running ramped on not only Cape Cod, but small towns everywhere. I hate that when I come home to the place I love and consider my safe haven, it’s riddled with people I went to high school with that are covered with track marks or asking for money.

I think back to the post I wrote about Cape Cod friendships and it couldn’t stand truer against this incident of putting your half-dead buddy into a cab to try and get him the help he needed. Unless they just didn’t want to be found with his dead body in which case, what a shitty group of friends. They must have been from over the bridge.

Everyone’s acting like the world is about to end because of a few Ebola outbreaks, but last time I checked addiction claims an incomparable amount of lives compared to a fluid-passed disease that has killed less people in America than have been married to Kim Kardashian.

I unfortunately know firsthand just how easily addiction can rip apart families and ties that you spent your whole life building. But you know what it can’t take? Your memories and the positive impacts they had when they were clean.

So how about we all take some time today to remember a few important facts;

  • Addiction is a disease, one that can be treated but never cured
  • You’re more likely to have sex with a Kardashian than you are to contract Ebola
  • Don’t hang out with people from over the bridge
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Twitter: Hippie - Insane Tony

Yes, I’m alive. No, I don’t have ebola.

I’m sure you’ve all been dying to know where I’ve been the last few months. And by “dying to know” I mean you probs didn’t even notice and were totally fine not having random status updates and incriminating pictures clog your newsfeed.

But whatever, I’m back, so shove it.

I’ve been super busy traveling the world and working like a freakin’ psycho the past few months. I’ve literally been all over the country then had a nice 8-day stay in Spain followed by Paris and then New York. Which really only validated how much and why I hate that city, outside of like, two places, but more on that later. GOD I have so much to catch you up on..

ANYWAYS, all of these worldly travels led to a lot of alone time, which led to a lot of internal questioning, which led to a lot of important realizations. Mostly that I shouldn’t be allowed alone for long periods of time, but wanted to share these with you nonetheless because they’re funny and also completely useless. And no, I didn’t get ebola..

Side note: nothing makes me hate people more than the act of traveling. Everyone is in the way, no one knows what the fuck they’re doing and the chances that you’ll be sat next to a shitty baby and/or someone who is sick or doesn’t believe in personal hygiene is large. And by large I mean Every.Fucking.Time.


  • Scoring heroin at the dentist while simultaneously sexting the receptionist is easier to do than getting through U.S. customs
  • New England is the only place people walk up and down escalators. Everywhere else in the entire fucking world people just stand. Which I guess makes sense, but like, seriously? Get the fuck out of my way
  • Gingers actually are kind of rare. True story; people literally stopped me in the streets and asked to touch my hair or take pictures of me because they had never seen a girl of my complexion while I was in Spain. Okay, maybe they were just trying to get closer so they could steal my shit easier, which maybe happened, but regardless, they essentially gathered my tears to cure diseases and compared me to royalty
  • Have you ever seen the underneath of a sting ray? Looking down on them, they look like heavenly discs of grey soaring through the sea – but from underneath their stupid little faces honestly scare the bejesus out of me; like they’re now up there with sloths. I lost sleep over this, I’m not even kidding


  • I have horrible eating habits. I forget to eat for days at a time then consume anything and everything in my path. I had M&Ms, a bagel, a granola bar, 3 coffees and a chicken finger in the last hour. Who does that?! I think I ate more this weekend then I did the entire month of October
  • I think I’m going to to come out with my own sweatshirt line that is brightly colored and has funny sayings on it like “I hate everything” and “pizza before people”
  • I have the best boyfriend in the world. I’m sure every girl says this, but I’m confident mine is better because he sent me a surprise gift card to Burger King in the mail “just for being me”. If you need anymore proof, 1- you’re dumb because the only thing better than fast food gift cards is fast food, but I immediately realized he was in fact my soulmate when I found a Slim Jim he hid on the dashboard of my Jeep


  •  I love him because he buys me food.

My most important realization from all these travels, however….

…There’s no place like fucking home.

Screen Shot 2014-11-10 at 2.29.56 PM

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Twitter: Hippie - Insane Tony

My deepest sympathies to Eldon, his family and Skydive Barnstable..


I am beyond sad and shocked to have learned that the skydive instructor who passed away yesterday was the very same one I jumped with just a couple of months ago *Authors note: apologies to my BWF, Nintendo-No-Friendo, on re-publishing what I said I never would, but this tribute wouldn’t be relevant without the reference so I’m sorry, I’ll get you a green laser pointer and promise to pretend I’m not embarrassed next time you pull out the parabolic dish in public. Love ya, mean it.

I know everyone’s first reaction to those of us who willingly choose to jump out of a perfectly good plane is to tell us we’re crazy and that we must have a death wish, and to those people I have a few things to say;

  1. You’ve clearly never seen those planes because I was ready to jump out the moment we took off – that shit is SKETCH
  2. Everyone needs to feel alive and a rush of adrenaline now and then, it’s just that some require more extreme activities to achieve that than others
  3. Don’t knock it ’till you try it
  4. We’re all going to go someday. Though I don’t wish death on anyone in this world, it’s inevitable – we’re all going to meet our end one way or another. Although tragic and horrifying, Eldon went out doing something that he loved so passionately, he chose it as not only a profession but a lifestyle. He told me while we were spiraling down to the earth that he jumped, on average, 22 times A DAY, 7 days a week, weather permitting, and that he wishes it could be 122. May we all be so lucky to get up and do something we feel that passionate about every day.

Eldon was a man who loved what he did and who enjoyed life to the fullest, and to him I say thanks. Thanks for reminding me life’s too short to do anything BUT what you love and for getting me to the ground safely. You provided me with one of the greatest experiences I’ll ever know.

May the waves carry you home, Eldon.

Facebook: The Real Cape
Twitter: Hippie - Insane Tony

A Martian Filmed my Summer!

I always knew I was fortunate to spend not only my summers, but much of my life on Cape Cod. The below video my friend, Marvin the Martian, filmed and then created out of our last few months proves just that.

I would first like to formally apologize to Marvin for calling him Creepy McCreepster for ALWAYS having a GoPro with him everywhere we went and I now totally take it back. This video is not only a great documentation of our summer, but it makes us look so much cooler than we actually are. Great work, Marv! You keep doing you, and don’t let anyone tell you you’re weird for carrying around a camera on a stick.

I feel like this mini-movie captures what a real cape summer is all about. It’s taking the boats to hidden stretches of beach that tourists don’t know about, and staying there until it’s dark. It’s sitting in the sand until it’s cool enough that you need a hoody. But not pants. Because pants are the worst. It’s laughing. It’s cold beer and horseshoes. It’s various aquatic activities. It’s family. It’s Real Cape.

You leave your complaints on the dock and unpack nothing but cold drinks and good times from the cooler once you drop anchor.

If you’d like a 6-minute recap of what a Cape Cod summer looks like; watch the below. My favorites parts are where my adopta-sister, Kray Kay and I, hop on a jet ski and zip towards a fire on the we were actually going to help someone or something. We only made it half way, realized we forgot our Twisted Teas, and turned that shit around.

I also love Marv’s selfie shot while driving his Seadoo and his girlfriend, Delish, chasing the dog down the street in the beginning.  The highlight, however, is the nice scenic shot of Nintendo No Friendo and I playing fetch with some random dogs because it reminded me that we always got along on the Island.

Island rule; no fighting. Maybe I should live every day by Island rules..

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Twitter: Hippie - Insane Tony

Sharks? You should be more scared of a coconut


Fact: falling coconuts kill more people every year than sharks. That’s right, you are 5 times more likely to die during the collapse of a delicious fruit (are coconuts a fruit? Holy shit, what the hell IS a coconut?) that resembles a human testicle, than even be approached by a shark.

I firmly believe that people are so scared of sharks because they don’t know anything about them other than the fact that they’re stealth hunters who are expert creepers and whose main purpose in life is to kill things, swim and make baby sharks.

It drives me absolutely insane when people start jumping to conclusions about how “sharks are everywhere now” and “don’t go swimming”. Here’s the thing: sharks have ALWAYS been around. Have you ever thought that maybe our science and technology has just finally advanced to the point that we’re able to tag, track and monitor these Gods of the ocean more closely?? #RESPECT

daily95afternoon95randomness954995photos1951405985875*Photo credit: L.Allenby

Fact: You are more likely to choke on a hot dog than be attacked by a shark. Last weekend alone I had 4 hot dogs (I’m not proud of this by any means, but felt the need to personally validate just how serious that analogy is) and I’m still kicking.

If you’re scared of something, the least you can do is educate yourself so you know how to avoid it. Example: I’m PETRIFIED of sloths. Putting aside the fact that nothing that moves that slowly can be from this planet, let’s acknowledge the fact that they’re rapists. I’m scared of them because after a lot of research, I also learned they happen to be a huge carrier of disgusting diseases, pee on themselves often and grow mold on their bodies. Now that I think about it, that description also fits a lot of people I know…but that’s not what’s important here. Sloths are fucking useless and nobody likes a rapist.


Back to sharks. When the news story came out last week about the women that were ‘attacked’ by a shark on Cape I got so mad I punched a pillow.  You take a kayak out, at dusk, and paddle into a group of seals to “see if you can get a picture of a great white”, what the hell did you think was going to happen? Dusk is when sharks feed and kayaks look EXACTLY like their main food source which you decided to paddle into. I don’t wish physical harm on anyone, but a large, small part of me wishes they suffered a minor flesh wound just so they know not to fuck around next time.

Think about it..would you go into the jungles of Africa, dressed like a zebra, hoping to get up close and personal with a pack of lions? No. So, why would you think it’s okay to paddle into a shark’s home, disguised as their prey, then blame it for taking a nibble? You probably also blame trees and plant life in general when you get a splinter and 100% steal salt and pepper packets from McDonald’s because those are the kinds of people that would be stupid enough to paddle into open ocean in hopes of seeing a shark then get pissed when one decides to say hello back.

Fact: vending machines are responsible for an average of 13 deaths a year. That’s more than two and a half times the amount of injuries caused by sharks. Better think twice next time you punch in that code for a bag of snack mix, homie.

So basically, what I’m saying, is stop being scared of something that you have no reason to be. Learn when and where not to swim, don’t be an idiot and I promise you, you’ll survive your dip in the ocean. If you ask me, there are WAY more things to be scared of than being attacked by a shark. Like being mugged, making eye contact with those guys at the mall that work the perfume kiosks, or getting raped by a sloth..all of which have a higher chance of occurring than you being bitten by a shark. Maybe not, but in all seriousness, what the fuck is a coconut?!

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Twitter: Hippie - Insane Tony

True Talk Tuesday: I’m back, betches.

Soo apparently people were concerned and extremely curious as to where I’ve been the last few weeks due to my lack of posts.

In response to most of your questions;

  • No, I didn’t die
  • Yes, I’m still part of The Real Cape
  • No, my stalker didn’t kidnap me nor has he been holding me hostage in his basement
  • Yes, I caused the category 6 earthquake in California and
  • The rumor about me being in rehab, though funny and definitely the most interesting, is just plain ridiculous

But in all seriousness –

Where have you been?!

I wish my response was anywhere nearly as exciting as what’s listed above, but sadly I’ve just been insanely busy with my “real” job. Between traveling the country for work, prepping for a new position and spending time with my family; I haven’t had a moment to myself, let alone to write. Also, any free time I did have was spent sleeping and/or watching SyFy.

The most interesting trip was probs San Francisco a couple of weeks ago. I was of course there for the earthquake, because why wouldn’t I be present for the strongest natural disaster to hit the state of California in 25 years? I was literally tossed from my bed (not in a good way) at 3:30 in the morning and as soon as I realized what was happening I began to PANIC.

I don’t do well with natural disasters in general, so when one is thrown in hours before the biggest trade show/ career opportunity of my life while alone in a random city? Glitter Ginger don’t play that.

I was on the very top floor of the Hilton, and apparently newer buildings in California are built to “move with an earthquake”. I’m sorry, but by “move with an earthquake” do you mean rock harder than Janis Joplin on a fucking drug binge? Christ, that was scary. The earthquake, not Janice. I was so confused when I woke up via slamming my face into the carpet. It took a couple of seconds to figure out what was going on because I was 1 – woken from a dead sleep 2- was in the third random city in less than two weeks and 3 – took 5-7 melatonin (fuck you, time difference). My thought process was this;

What the fuck, why am I on the floor?

Well I’m alone so this is weird..

Where the fuck am I?

Oh yea, I’m in California.

Wait, is the room shaking? glasses begin to shatter

Is this a dream?

This isn’t a dream *I’m still on the floor..

I’m in California. They have earthquakes in California

HOLY FUCK IS THIS AN EARTHQUAKE?! pictures fall off the wall


Aren’t I supposed to get in the tub or something?! *I’m still on the floor..

NO, a doorway you idiot.

FUCK that, fetal position it is.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. *Never left the floor..


The end.

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Twitter: Hippie - Insane Tony