. . . we all stayed for about three days, all of which were filled with trips to Manhattan Beach for body- surfing, swimming in the pool, and long nights of watching movies and tearing around the neighborhood causing trouble of all sorts, often including fireworks and/or dog poop. One of Carl's personal favorites was tying a smoke bomb by the wick to a car engine part. The L.A. heat, along with the heat of the engine, would light the wick and scare the shit out of the driver when plumes of smoke started billowing out from under their hood. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't, but it was the fact that he would be far from the scene of the crime that excited Carl.
. . . Unquestionably, the funniest thing that happened throughout the whole trip happened at the pool. The Rogers' house was located in a complex of houses, kind of like a condominium complex. All the houses were very nice, in California fashion, and they all shared two tennis courts, two pools and a hot tub. One day, alter playing a couple hours of tennis, the five of us decided to go swimming. We didn't feel like walking all the way back to the house for our bathing suits, so we decided to just go in our boxers. Alter cooling off for a while, we decided to head back to the house. We thought it was unacceptable to go back in our soaked boxers, and no one wanted to wear their shorts on top of their boxers, so we took turns watching the two gates for anyone who might be walking through while someone quickly stripped out of their boxers and got into their shorts. It was Seth's turn, and just as he dropped his boxers, Carl yelled that Mrs. Butcher was walking up the path. Seth froze, unsure of what to do. Just as she came into view, he sprinted across the deck and jumped into the pool, stark naked. He crouched at the edge of the pool, desperately (but unsuccessfully) trying to hide himself with a look of terror in his eyes as Mrs. B walked through, giving us all a look of disapproval. Carl, Andy, Scott and I were too busy laughing to notice. Alter about ten minutes, we were able to collect ourselves to the point when we could actually get off the ground, and we made our way back to the house. Sally later got a call that her sons and their friends had been skinny-dipping, that afternoon. That one took a lot of explaining.
-- Jared. Autobiography. 1998.