Our friends at Tio Rodrigo called us up to help launch their new canned margaritas, so we headed toward Mexico, the land of street tacos, sunshine, and surf. In a predictable twist, Jonny's expired passport forced us to pump the brakes and stop north of the border, and we found ourselves in San Diego: home of slightly more expensive street tacos, sunshine, and surf.

As it would turn out, the rules about drinking on the beach are a little stricter around these parts. 1 open container ticket: $250. Watching Jonny nearly drown in 2-foot surf, while sitting in the sand drinking Sandía margaritas: priceless.

Where better to eat post-surf tacos than Barrio Logan, San Diego’s historic Latin neighborhood? La Fachada provided, dishing up tacos de lengua and carne asada mulitas, the type of comida autentica that will always make San Diego the king of street mex. With bellies full of tacos, we walked over to Chicano Park, the mural-plastered meet spot turned skatepark turned cultural gathering center. The local skate crew called us over, not knowing we had a secret weapon: Jonny is a kickflippin’ fool. We bet ‘em a couple canned margs, and the contest commenced, locals and mountain bros throwing down in a no-losers contest, throwing the wheels to the sky below the iconic Sueno Serpiente and Coatlicue murals. You can probably guess where we went after; my second-favorite taco spot was just a block away.